Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Genevieve stared intently at the email glowing on her computer screen. Just a month ago, she had uncovered several troubling inconsistencies in a client’s reported assets and holdings. The amounts submitted to the IRS didn’t match up, which meant both she and the accounting firm she worked for could face serious legal consequences. Yet, her client, the 68-year-old Misty Cohen, seemed determined to convince her it was nothing more than a simple oversight. Misty, who owned fifteen bakeries scattered throughout town, wanted Genevieve to believe she had simply forgotten about hundreds of thousands stashed away in an offshore account. The idea was absurd.

Genevieve cracked her knuckles, preparing herself to deliver a firm warning—that if Misty didn’t come clean, the full extent of the discrepancies would be reported to the authorities. Just as she was about to draft the message, the door to her office slammed open with a loud bang against the wall.

Charlotte came rushing around the desk, her strawberry-blonde hair tousled and wild, her glasses sitting crookedly on her nose. A radiant smile stretched across her face, almost threatening to split it in two. In her hand, she waved a thick folder like a treasured prize.

“We’ve hit the jackpot,” Charlotte declared with excitement.

Genevieve let out a tired sigh and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. “For what exactly?”

Charlotte’s eyes sparkled as she explained, “I just got a call from a company in New York. They’ve got some unaccounted-for funds and want to hire a firm to investigate.”