Chapter 5 - THE AUDIT OF BITTERNESS
By 8:00 AM on Monday, the executive office of the Carpenter Bistro Group on Larimer Street was humming with a tense, focused energy. The office was not grand—it sat above his flagship diner, smelling of fresh coffee, fried bacon, and the industrial floor wax used to clean the linoleum below.
Thomas sat behind his steel desk, three thick green ledger books open in front of him. Across the table, his head accountant, a sharp, middle-aged woman named Martha who had been with him since he opened his second location, was clicking away on her ten-key calculator.
"It’s worse than we thought, Thomas," Martha said, sliding a printed expense report across the desk. "Over the last twenty-four months, the secondary corporate card assigned to your father under the 'Marketing and Outreach' allowance has been used for things that have nothing to do with the restaurants."
Thomas scanned the lines. Country Club fees: $1,200. Premium Golf Pro Shop: $850. High-end cosmetic treatments: $600. And a recurring monthly charge of four hundred dollars to an estate planning attorney in Cherry Creek.
"He was using my company money to fund a legal defense against me," Thomas said, a cold realization settling into his throat. "Martha... pull the payroll records for the catering division. Is there anyone else on there I didn't personally authorize?"
Martha hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keys. "Your father added his cousin Gary to the consulting roster six months ago, Thomas. He’s been drawing twenty-five hundred a month as a 'supply chain advisor.' I thought you knew. The authorization form had a signature that looked like yours."
Thomas reached out, took the payroll document, and looked at the bottom of the page. The signature was a crude, shaky forgery of his name—the ink style matching the cheap blue gel pens his father kept in his shirt pocket.
"He didn't just take the help, Martha. He stole from the business," Thomas said softly. His voice didn't rise, but Martha, who had seen him handle health inspectors and aggressive union reps, leaned back slightly from the desk.
"What do you want to do?" she asked. "We can report this to the police. It's forgery and corporate embezzlement over ten thousand dollars. That’s a grand larceny charge in Colorado."
"Keep the records secure," Thomas said, standing up and grabbing his denim jacket. "I’m going to see him before he has time to get his story straight with Sarah's lawyers. If he wants to talk about 'place,' let's see how he likes the look of a deposition room."
As he stepped out of the office onto the stairs, his phone began to ring. It was the principal of Samuel’s elementary school.
Thomas stopped on the landing, his heart skipping a beat. "This is Thomas."
"Mr. Carpenter, this is Principal Evans," the voice on the other end said, sounding cautious and strained. "We have a situation here. Your mother, Helen Carpenter, is currently in the main office. She’s demanding to withdraw Samuel and Jacob from their classes, claiming there's a family emergency and that she has temporary custody. She has a document, Mr. Carpenter... but it looks old."
May you like
Thomas felt a violent surge of adrenaline hit his system. "Don't let them leave the room, Principal Evans. I'm five minutes away. If anyone tries to take my kids out of that building before I get there, call the police and tell them it's an active abduction."
He tore down the stairs, running through the kitchen of his diner, ignoring the startled shouts of his line cooks as he slammed through the back door into the alley where his truck was parked.
