Page 83 of Fate and Fortune

“What makes you think I’m involved?” she asked lightly, hoping to change the subject. “I haven’t been in town all that long. But I do like it so far.”

“It’s just a hunch,” Gabe said with a shrug. “Call it my reporter’s instincts. It’s none of my business anyway. Now, let’s get back to some possible assignments for your first week.”

It was far too late to back away now.

Alli was in love with Sam Winslow.

“Let Henry know that if he’s not in my office in ten minutes, I’ll have his desk cleaned out and his belongings thrown out on the front steps. And no, I’m not kidding. I’m tired of him ducking me and giving excuses.”

Sam had already made this call to Rick’s assistant. He was tired of all the bullshit. He’d been patient too long, and mostly as a favor to his father. Joel had always protected Henry and Rick even when they didn’t deserve it.

But they’d gone too far this time. Sam had the proof sitting on his desk in a file he’d received from the investigator regarding those shell corporations and phony purchase orders.

“I’ll do what I can, Sam,” Henry’s assistant Miranda replied, her voice sounding panicked. “But I can only tell him what you said. I can’t make him do it.”

No one could make Henry do anything. That was the problem. He thought he was invincible and smart. He couldn’t be more mistaken.

“I know, Miranda. I’m not holding you personally responsible. Just pass on the message. That’s all I ask.”

Sam made a mental note to ask HR to reach out to Miranda about possibly applying for Alli’s job. If the woman had been able to put up with Henry all these years, she must have had the skills and patience of a saint.

“I will, Sam. He’s in his office now.”

But not answering his phone. That’s why Sam had called Miranda instead.

“Ten minutes,” Sam repeated. “And thank you.”

He hung up the call, taking another fortifying sip of his coffee. No matter what other people might think, Sam didn’t relish calling anyone on the carpet. Least of all Rick and Henry, who would only whine, complain, and then blame someone else for their shortcomings. They’d never introspect or think they might be the problem.

The file folder was right in front of him, filled with incriminating evidence that Rick and Henry had been embezzling from Winslow Financial for years. The total was certainly in the millions at this point. It hadn’t been enough that they’d barely worked and were totally incompetent in their jobs, yet pulled down generous six-figure salaries and bonuses over their careers. No, that hadn’t been enough for the greedy bastards. They’d decided to help themselves to even more to support their lazy, indulgent lifestyles, probably rationalizing it away. Both of them seemed convinced they were geniuses.

Had Joel Winslow known and ignored it?

Sam didn’t think so. His dad had always been easy on Rick and Henry, but one of the few things Joel wouldn’t like would be theft. Sam was sure Joel would blow his top and make those two wish they’d never been born.

Sam wasn’t planning on revenge and retribution, Joel-style. At this point, it would be enough to get them out of the building and out of his way. But if they didn’t cooperate? He didn’t have any issues calling the sheriff about their criminal behavior. He’d give them one chance to end this quietly.

There were still five minutes to go, and Sam picked up the envelope of photos that Terri had given him, idly shuffling through the stack. They were mostly from events at the firm, like the annual Christmas or Halloween parties. Leigh was in some, along with Rick, Henry, and Joel, plus a few people that Sam didn’t recognize. From the clothes worn, some of the pictures were from a long time ago.

He couldn’t help but notice how much Zack and Cooper resembled a much younger Joel. Tate looked more like their mother, as did Piper. Frankie and Sam? They were a mix of his two parents, although neither of them was thrilled that they’d inherited anything from their father.

“I’m here, goddammit, and you better never talk to me like that again,” Rick said, his voice loud and booming as he strode into Sam’s office. His face was already red and angry, having built up a head of steam on the way. “Who in the fuck do you think you are? When I tell Joel⁠—”

“You’re not going to tell Joel shit,” Sam cut his uncle off immediately, standing up and walking around his desk to slam the office door shut. No one needed to hear this, although from his actions, it appeared that Rick might want just that. “You’re going to sit the fuck down and shut up for once in your pathetic life. Or I can just call Sheriff Finn now, and you can explain to him how you and Henry have been embezzling from this company for years. That’s a felony, you know. And orange is not your color, Uncle Rick. It makes your skin look a little too sallow.”

Rick’s eyes widened, and he blinked a few times before finally sitting down on one of the chairs opposite Sam’s desk.

Maybe I shocked him into silence. It won’t last long, though. He’ll come out swinging in a few minutes.

Sam didn’t waste any time, picking up the folder from his desk and handing it to Rick.

“Take your time,” he said. “It’s all in there.”

Rick did take his time, and the silence stretched as the older man leafed through the documents, each more damning than the last. By the time he finished, he was far paler than he’d been when he’d arrived.

“You’ve got nothing,” Rick finally said, tossing the file back onto Sam’s desk. His uncle tried to look cool but was clearly rattled. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Nothing?” Sam echoed, his smile widening at his uncle’s discomfiture. “I have your name on literally dozens of phony purchase orders for corporations that you and Henry own. That’s not nothing, and I think that law enforcement will see what I see.”