Chapter 13: The Payroll Reserve

I got back to the new studio at five with the recording in my pocket, and I told nobody about it.

Lane's helper was sanding the edge of the last walnut panel.

Lane was on the phone with a supplier, and he held up two fingers to say he'd be quick.

The door chimed.

Brett's partner came in with a black binder under his arm.

Behind him walked the two men who had been missing from my loading dock.

They still had Shelby's paint on their boots.

"Lorena," the partner said. "I'm sorry to do this here. I tried your husband's phone six times."

"Do what?"

"Show you something he should have shown you."

He set the binder on the cutting table, the one with the cracked corner, and opened it to a page of figures.

Lane ended his call.

His helper put down the sander.

"This is the payroll reserve for Tolbert Builders," the partner said. "It pays our whole crew every two weeks and covers our insurance."

He put his finger on a line.

"Three weeks ago it held forty-one thousand dollars."

He moved his finger down.

"Last Tuesday twenty-five thousand of it went to the Haverton Charity Committee."

I looked at the number.

"Brett told me it came from his owner distribution," I said.

"It didn't."

"That's what he told me in Shelby's kitchen."

"I know what he told you," the partner said. "He told me it was a donation the company had approved. I never approved it."

The taller of the two men cleared his throat.

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