Author's Note: This is the second to last chapter in this series. When I began I had absolutely no idea the first story would evolve into this tale. Your kind comments, feedback and suggestions had a lot to do with that (both good and bad). I can honestly say they made a huge difference, so thank you and please keep them coming! And stay tuned for the lust-filled conclusion on Emerald Isle...
As usual, all characters engaged in sexual activity are over 18.
*****
Lying in bed together in the morning, Dave was fuming from the discovery that Stacey had put herself in danger staking out his office at night. He clenched his teeth together and said, "Tell me what's been going on."
"Of course, I'll tell you everything, but there's one thing I want to say first," Stacey said. "I can help you. And you need my help. So stop patronizing me and telling me not to worry my 'pretty little head' about it. Something bad is going on."
"Fine, as long as you promise me not to do something so stupid again."
"I promise. And, um... "
Stacey leaned in and kissed him. "You know I'll always be your little girl... especially when we... um..." She blushed a little bit.
"When we...?" Dave smiled.
"Well I don't want
that
to change!" she said anxiously.
Dave laughed. "It won't, baby girl. Go ahead."
Stacey launched into her story: the billing anomalies she was discovering in accounting; fake receipts and suspicious suppliers; the relationship between Fred and Kathy; the activity in Dave's office at night; Paula's father; all the things she'd overheard about "SAS" and the "people" who knew what was going on; the stolen key; and lastly Joyce's warning that Dave had to protect himself immediately.
Dave listened to all of it, astounded at how much she knew, with ideas swirling through his head; the first thing that caught his attention was Fred's comment about this "all being over in a few weeks." Stacey mentioned hearing that twice.
He got up and paced in his room, thinking, finally saying "Well, that has to be what he means."
"WHAT?!" said Stacey.
Dave sat next to her. "You remember how I told you I had a surprise for you when I got back?"
"Oh yes!" she said excitedly.
"Well the 'surprise,' baby girl, is that I was going to take you to Emerald Isle. How does that sound?"
"Oh!" Stacey gasped with delight. Emerald Isle was a beautiful resort in the outer banks in the southern part of the state, full of gorgeous beaches and amazing sunsets and cute little beach houses. She and Dave had occasionally vacationed there and it was her absolute favorite place on earth. She said, "I love how that sounds! When? But what does this have to do with what's going on?"
"It has everything to do with it. We wouldn't be going down just for a vacation. It's also work related. There happens to be a big business retreat down there in two weeks—one of those 'let's pat each other on the back' and wheel and deal kind of things I've always avoided like the plague. Well I was going to go this time because, depending on how it goes, I could sign the papers right then and there, franchising my name and my businesses."
"Oh!" said Stacey.
"This is a big deal, Stace. A big, big deal. I've been in some talks, there are a few things to work out, but I was supposed to be meeting there in two weeks with the representatives from the auto companies I work with—Porsche, Volvo, Mercedes, they're all going to be there. That's why I thought I could take you along and we could make a trip out of it."
"And you think that's what this is about, somehow?"
"It makes sense. That's when the deal's supposed to go down. These kinds of 'conventions' are always full of shady dealings. And anyone who is anyone in the Raleigh business world is going to be there."
"So you think this is what they meant by it all being over in a few weeks—that something's going to happen at the convention."
"Or before. It makes sense. I can't think of anything else it could be."
Dave got up and started pacing again, muttering to himself. Stacey heard him say "fucking bastard" about three times. Finally he stopped in front of her.
"Right. I need to go to the office, right now, and make some phone calls. You coming, super sleuth?"
"Yes! Just let me get my files!"
+++
On the way there Dave called a locksmith, and Carlos, asking if he would mind coming in on a Saturday.
Dave was talking as they drove. "I'm getting the picture, I think. This has to be about this deal. It has to be. Fucking things up so I can't sign those contracts."
"What do you mean?"
"Honey, these companies are looking very carefully at how I run things. If they knew I can't even manage a simple cash flow, or control my employees... they're not big risk-takers, these people. If even a hint of a scandal is hanging over my name, it could blow everything. SHIT, that asshole! Why didn't I see this coming?"
Stacey noticed him gunning the motor and clutching the wheel, obviously very pissed off.
"Would that be so bad?"
"Well it wouldn't ruin me, but... it is everything I've worked my whole life for! It's not about the money, although there'd be plenty of that... it's about the recognition and my name and... "
Dave didn't quite have the word for what he was feeling. He could only say vaguely, "... freedom... of some kind... I'd be free."
"Free?" Stacey asked, curious.
Dave took his eyes off the road for a second to touch her face. "Yes, baby girl... free."
+++
In the empty office building, they parted—Stacey to go rummage around Fred's desk, and Dave to see to securing his office.
Stacey sat down at Fred's huge, impersonal oak desk with trepidation, not really expecting to find anything. She opened drawer after drawer. It was mostly files... hundreds of bland, boring files. What the hell was she going to do with this?
After an hour of looking, something caught her eye—the name, "Southeast Prime Auto Parts," printed on the tab of a folder. That name! It was one of the suppliers she'd noticed. Odd that this file would be here. It was sandwiched between a number of similar files that all seemed to have to do with auto parts. Tools, tires, anything you'd find in a garage. Odd that the CFO would be interested in such technical things.
She decided she'd Xerox the Southeast file, and write down the names of all the other companies in the same little section of files. Hmmm... if she hadn't poured over those tax returns or had those accountants look things up for her, she never would have noticed.
Stacey observed that Fred had no personal items of any sort on or in his desk. No photos, mementos, not even mints or a few pennies. It was antiseptically clean. She had just about given up when, running her hands deep inside every drawer, she felt something. It was an envelope, taped to the top. She pulled at it, and brought it out to look at it, and saw the tiny little corner of a photo sticking out. At last something interesting!
She pulled it out. Inside were several photos, and a letter. When she took the photos out, she gasped. It was Dave. Several pictures—some of him alone, some smiling shoulder to shoulder with Fred. They must be 20 years old. She smiled in turn seeing her father at such a young age. He certainly was handsome back then, but nothing compared to Fred's blonde beauty. Fred looked totally different! Much less of an unfriendly asshole. There was warmth and happiness in his face as he posed with Dave proudly in front of Dave's first shop. She barely would have guessed it was him.
Then she pulled out the letter. It was a formal business letter with the heading "Statistics Analysis Systems, SAS" at the top in engraved script. She looked it over:
To: Frederick Hayes, Financial Account, SAS
From: Bradley Broughton, V.P. of Finance, SAS
