Chapter 110. Evidence of embezzlement
Lilly Bradley
Johnson Enterprises
I had seen Mr. Paige heading toward the elevator with a folder in his arm. I noticed he was nervous as he kept running his hand through his hair repeatedly. Had something happened? I focused on my work for a while longer, having already advanced several contracts. I reviewed the maintenance details of some properties and informed the team.
"Miss Bradley," I looked up from my computer and saw Jackson standing in the doorway. I hadn't heard him arrive as he usually did. I smiled, but my smile faded when I noticed his tense, serious face and a look filled with... Annoyance? Anger? I stood up quickly and furrowed my brow.
"What's wrong?" I asked, alarmed. "Has something happened?" He didn't answer, but came in and closed the door behind him.
"Sit down," he ordered. I did as he placed his hands on the back of the chair in front of my desk.
"You're worrying me," I confessed, not taking my eyes off him.
"Shall we have dinner?" he asked, which confused me given his evident posture in front of me.
"Yes, of course, but is something wrong?"
"Why do you think something's wrong?" he responded with a question, which surprised me.
"What are you hiding from me, Jackson?" I noticed his unease. He stood up abruptly and turned toward the glass walls. He put his hands on his hips and then sighed.
"Let's have dinner. I'll come for you at seven." Then he left the office without saying anything else or looking at me. My heart pounded hard; something was happening, and it wasn't good. When Jackson left, Mr. Paige appeared at the door.
"Do you have a moment?" I nodded, and he came in and sat in the chair in front of my desk.
"How can I...?" he interrupted me.
"Mr. Johnson is furious." I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
"Why?" I asked immediately.
"Five apartments in the Tower Chippifierld building have been sold..."
"Sold? They're not even authorized yet," I replied.
"That's what he said. You know no contract is made without his signature, but apparently, someone did it... and more than twenty million dollars have been lost."
"Do they know who it is?" He shook his head. "They need to find out immediately, that's a huge embezzlement..."
"But they're in serious trouble if they get caught."
Mr. Paige had left after that, and now everything was clear. Jackson was furious, who wouldn't be? I finished what I was doing in a hurry to be ready when he came for me. I looked at the clock, and when I heard footsteps and looked up, it was Richard. I stood up from my seat.
"Miss Bradley," he said immediately, apparently worried.
"Yes? Is something wrong?" He didn't say anything for a moment.
"Mr. Johnson is waiting in the car," I grabbed my purse to leave the desk and go, but he gestured for me to stop. "I would like to ask a couple of questions first." I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
"Sure," I waited for him to ask.
"Do you know what happened when Mr. Johnson came a few hours ago?" I shook my head.
"Mr. Paige..." Richard arched an eyebrow when I mentioned my boss, "...came and told me that Jackson was upset because some apartments in the latest acquired building had been sold."
"He just told you that out of the blue?" I nodded.
"Yes, the strange thing is that he came just to tell me that."
"Okay," he pressed his jaw, "Did he ask you to do anything outside of your work area yesterday?" His questions were strange but made sense now that I knew what was happening.
"Nothing out of the ordinary, contracts and deposits," I frowned. "Just that I went with an agent to check the maintenance details of the new building, but then we returned. It wasn't strange, that's how my other colleagues do it. I rarely do because I usually check other details, but... Why the questions? Do you already have a suspect?"
"I know it's normal for you to manage property funds, but..." he stopped his words. "I'm investigating. I've already informed Mr. Johnson that we shouldn't assume or take anything for granted without evidence."
"That's correct."
"I'll take you to the car; Mr. Johnson is waiting."
We went down to the lobby. As we walked towards the double glass doors, I thought about how furious Jackson must be, but his look was different. Richard opened the back door for me to get in, and as I did, I found him.
"Hi, I thought you would come to the office to get me."
"Sorry," he whispered, his gaze fixed on the window, the atmosphere felt tense.
"And where are we going for dinner?" I tried to lighten the moment.
"To the first restaurant I took you to," he turned his face towards me. "Do you remember?"
"The steakhouse, how could I forget, the best meat I've ever had." The rest of the trip was in total silence, separated. He didn't take my hand as he usually did, didn't look at me or ask how my day was, nothing. When I was about to ask about his day, the car stopped at the curb, and Richard opened my door. I thanked him and waited for Jackson. We entered the place, many began to greet him and ask about something I didn't pay attention to. He led us to the table, pulled out my chair, and I thanked him.
"I'll be back in a moment," he said and left me alone at the table. I placed my purse on the other empty chair and looked around. The table was next to the large window facing the street, until I found Jackson talking on his cell phone on the sidewalk. He was shouting, moving his hands from side to side, then ran a hand over his face, hung up, put his cell phone inside his jacket, and then talked to Richard about something else. Moments later, he entered the restaurant.
"What could be happening?" I asked myself as Jackson approached the table. He pulled out the chair to take his seat, his gaze evasive. I reached out my hand to take his, but he quickly pulled it away. "What's wrong, honey?" I asked, more worried than I already was. His eyes finally locked onto mine.
"I got the information I needed."
"I hope it's nothing bad."
"It's all bad." I raised my eyebrows, surprised.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked immediately, wanting to help him.
"It's about the embezzlement, the sale of five apartments. They've forged my signature, and thirty million has vanished into thin air..." he stopped his words. "Why didn't you come to me? You knew you could trust me if you needed money..." then I interrupted him.
"Are you insinuating that I had something to do with the sale of those apartments?" I asked, stunned. How could he even think I would do something like that? Jackson clenched his jaw, looking away. "Look at me," I ordered, and he did. "I would never do such a thing in my life. I don't need something like that. Don't you know me?"
"That's what I'm starting to question. Everything points to you: the cameras, the timelines, the bank account. So I ask myself: Do I know you?"