“The police haven’t made any arrests, so I’m guessing he thinks it might be someone at the school who hurt his son. Only reason Bob and I can figure why Larry has been so generous to Mr. Beck.”
The more she talks, the more I realize I am in over my head. I’ve never done anything like this before, and the best I can hope for is that I don’t end up ruining my own life in the process. But I have to know what’s going on. I figured I’d find something fishy in Mr. Beck’s records, but had no idea I might run across something like this. I don’t even know what “this” is yet, but so far it’s not looking so good for Mr. Beck, which actually helps me follow through.
“Generous?”
“I didn’t say anything, and I’ll deny it if you say I did, but one of our other tellers deposited a check from Larry Jennings to Mr. Beck the other day. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but when I was balancing her station, I just happened to remember my husband griping about Mr. Beck playing golf during school hours.”
“I’ll keep it to myself,” I say. “I’m not out to get him or anything, I just don’t want to be involved with something that doesn’t feel right. Gotta protect my own butt, ya know?”
She agrees, and we exchange a few pleasantries before I go. The more I find out about Dick, the better I feel about forcing his hand to give Jeremy the work permit.
Back at the high school, I stride in with shaking hands and flushed skin. I spent the entire drive over from the bank trying to calm myself down, but when that didn’t work, I decided to just go with it. With purposeful steps, I beeline for Margot’s desk. She looks up with concerned eyes and a frown. “Holly, what’s wrong?”
“I think I may have done something that could get me in trouble,” I whisper as I lean over her desk. “Mr. Beck had me deposit those checks, right? Well, please don’t say anything, but one of the ladies at the bank suggested that Mr. Beck may be making more deposits to his personal account than he should be.”
“I’ve been curious about that over the years,” she says quietly. Her eyes dart around the room nervously. “It’s always tiny little amounts, but it adds up. Tell you what, just refuse to run his personal errands from now on. That’s what I’ve started to do. But for now, you have proof he asked you to do it, so even if he does get his wrist slapped for too many expenses, you’re in the clear.” She finishes off with a friendly smile. I give her a nod and act like her words were the most comforting thing I’ve ever heard. In reality, they do comfort me. They tell me that if this goes south, Margot believes me.
“I’m just going to go tell him that I think my working hours are better served here, doing the work I’m paid for, not running errands,” I say quietly and straighten my back as I head down the hall toward Mr. Beck’s closed office door.
Two knocks later, after a thousand knots in my belly, doubts in my heart, and the overwhelming desire to turn around and run away, Mr. Beck shouts for me to open the door. When I turn the handle and enter the room, he’s at his desk with our attendance and grade tracking software pulled up. His face is a shade redder than normal, which is saying something considering he’s always a little on the red side. Jeremy Whelan needs this, the club needs this, but most of all, Grady needs this.
“I’d like to offer you one more chance to change your mind about extending a work permit to Jeremy Whelan,” I say as I close his office door and push the button lock into place.
“Holly, I’ve explained why I will not issue Jeremy a work permit, at length, to several people, and I refuse to have this conversation again. I’m sorry,” he says in exasperation. I nod, and pull out the deposit slip, and hand it over to him.
Now or never.
“What’s this?” he asks as his eyes try to make sense of the numbers on the small receipt.
“It’s your deposit receipt,” I say. I’m really doing this. I am. “This morning you sent me an email asking me to prepare three checks from the school’s vendor checking account to be made payable to you.”
“I did no such thing,” he shouts.
I raise my now steady hand in front of my face and shake my head. “You’ll find this is going to go much more smoothly if you can restrain your temper.”
“What are you doing Ms. Mercer?” he asks.