Chasing Frost by Isabel Jolie
Fourteen
Sadie
It’s almost eight p.m., and Chase’s office light is still on. I’ve been hanging in my office, attempting to follow him out the door to randomly meet up at the gym again. He’s been in meetings all day, but he piqued my curiosity this morning. It’s completely possible he was just texting a friend or wasting time on a video game, but whatever he was doing, he most definitely didn’t want me to see.
Everyone else has gone home. The office is empty, and the only sound is the faint buzz of the fluorescent hall lights. My neck muscles are sore, and the small button wire in my shirt is rubbing my skin raw. It’s time to call it a day, but first I’ll stop by and see if I can learn anything more about what has Chase Maitlin working late.
I pause in the doorway and watch him. A few pieces of hair stick out from the right side of his head as if he’s been pulling on them, and he’s wearing black frames I’ve never seen before. The black frames give him a studious persona. Yes, with those glasses, he’s rocking a sexy book nerd look. His sportscoat hangs on the back of his office chair. There’s a stack of file folders on his desk, a pencil in his mouth, one in his hand, one behind his ear, and his focus is on the large monitor on the corner of his desk.
I inch forward enough to see the screen. It’s an Excel sheet. The folder on his desk is also open to report details in Excel format.
I softly tap on his desk. “Hey.”
He sits back in his chair and removes the pencil from his mouth. There are dark indentations all along the yellow paint from his teeth. He frowns and glances between me and the monitor.
“Everyone’s gone home. You going to be leaving soon?”
He glances at his wrist, then rubs the side of his face.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yeah. But I don’t know what I’m dealing with yet.” His voice is low, and it’s as if he’s talking more to himself than to me.
“Anything I can help with?”
He scratches his chin then lifts his glasses and rubs his eyes. He sets the black frames down and rests his elbows on the edge of the desk. “I have a feeling you’re going to be very involved. But…” His voice trails off, and he fingers one of the file folders on his desk. He sighs. “I’ve found some errors. But the more I dig into it, the less I think it’s an accidental error, and the more I suspect it could be purposeful manipulation of the numbers.”
I sit down in the closest office chair and let my briefcase slide to the floor. I hope my wire is working. “What makes you think that?”
He looks at me, but it’s a vacant stare as if he’s looking through me. He shakes his head and exhales. “Look, it’s late. I might be overthinking things. I might…I could be wrong. Let me do some more digging into this, and if I need to, since you’re our new internal auditor, I’ll come to you.”
“What are you worried about?” Give me something.
“I’m worried I might have to fire someone. Have you ever done that? Had to let someone go?”
“No.” Be honest when you can. Undercover 101. “But I’ve been in a situation where I found out someone had made mistakes. And I got them in trouble.”
He leans back in his chair. His eyes glaze over again as if he’s slipping back into his thoughts.
“Is this someone you care about?” I ask.
He inhales loudly, and his chest rises. “Not like what you may be thinking. But it’s someone on my team. And…it could be a big fucking mess. You know South Fork Research?”
“Yeah.”
“Like I said, I’m still digging into it. But if I’m right, there are some errors that could impact that deal. It could be some serious egg on BB&E’s face.”
“Are you worried about your job?”
For the first time since I’ve entered his office, he smirks. A touch of jovial Chase returns. “Nah. There are days I don’t even know why I’m in this job.” He raps the desk with his knuckle. “And today is one of those days.” He exhales and rubs his forehead. “No. I’m worried about my team. But…I still don’t know what I’m looking at. It’s like maybe I’ve watched too many crime shows and my mind’s off on a wild car chase.”
“I’d love to be able to help you. Maybe a second set of eyes could help clear up things.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to hand me a folder, but instead he flattens his palm over the stack.
“No. Before I bring you in, I gave Garrick a chance to dig into it. If he’s made careless errors, I want to give him the chance to discover it himself.”
“If? You think there’s a chance he made intentional errors?”
Chase’s gaze falls over my right shoulder. His eyes close to slivers. He swallows then swivels his chair back to his monitor and puts on his black frame glasses.
“Ask me later in the week.”
I’ll take that as a yes. Chase Maitlin discovered what we’ve known existed, and he’s now researching it himself. If I’m right, that means Chase Maitlin is not the guilty party. He has also effectively dismissed me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I rise, showing him I’m taking his hint and leaving his office.
He doesn’t turn away from his monitor. “No. I’ve got meetings for some other clients down in Miami. Maybe Chicago later in the week. I should be back in the office on Friday.”
I pause in the doorway. “You still thinking you’ll make the wedding?”
“Yeah. Wheels in the air three p.m. Friday, so we’ll need to leave the office by two.”
I want to ask him more, but he’s lost in the monitor. I have Anna’s contact information, so I’ll reach out to her.
When I get home, I pull out my FBI issued cell and text Hopkins.
Me: Maitlin digging into reports. Acting like he’s discovering. Not acting like he’s guilty.
Within seconds, Hopkins responds.
Hopkins: Think he’s on to you? Could he be playing you?
His serious countenance comes to mind. All the pencils and the crazed hair.
Me: Unless he’s a trained actor, no.
Hopkins: Be careful. Sound tape of Michell’s and Tom’s office from this morning is mostly inaudible. Tom berated Mitchell. Our interpretation is the anger was over you being at the club. Also possible Mitchell told Tom you’re FBI. There’s disagreement on the team on this point, but be careful. If you’re right, and it’s not Maitlin, any other suspects?
Me: Garrick Carlson. That’s who Maitlin suspects. But Maitlin’s comments hinted he thinks others are involved. Was wearing a wire. You can listen to the conversation. 8 p.m. in Maitlin’s office.
Hopkins: Walters only wants to know who’s responsible. Once we know that, we pull you. Cooper Grayson found the bugs in his office. He’s BAU, but knows he’s being monitored.
Cooper Grayson is the head of the Chicago Real Estate Development Group. That’s not the account Maitlin’s concerned about right now, nor the account that has piqued the SEC’s interest. But the charity’s purchases of property at highly inflated prices from Grayson’s company all around Chicago are partially responsible for kicking off the investigation into McLoughlin. If these guys really are as integrated as we believe, then they know the pressure’s on. And if Mitchell’s in on it, then they all know I’m FBI.
Which means Maitlin could be playing me. Garrick could be the patsy. I haven’t made any progress, because I still have no evidence.
I switch over to the notes app on my phone and tap the keys.
Maitlin in on it? Gut says no. Mitchell in on it? Gut says yes. To do: Spend more time with Garrick.