Page 9 of Bad Situation

Chapter 3

Naked on a Street Corner

Jen

“You want my daughter to willingly march her ass into a meeting with the FBI to answer questions about a case they’re trying to make on her? You’re two bricks shy of a full load.”

After I called to inform my dad about the warrant, my parents hopped on the company jet and returned home faster than I could blink. Cam’s shot off more texts to me than I’ve ever received from him, wondering what the fuck is going on. I’m sure he’s reached his word usage for the month. He wouldn’t stop until I finally responded, telling him I’d let him know when I found out, because I’m fucking clueless.

There’s nothing like being clueless to bring out your vulnerability. I might as well be standing naked on a street corner for the world to see.

“Calm down, Kipp.” Patrick tries to appease my father who’s sitting across the room. “We want them on our turf—home court advantage. We’ve got the best criminal defense attorneys in north Texas on our side. They’ve advised Jen to answer their questions with us present. We won’t let her incriminate herself and, if she’s telling the truth—”

“Excuse me,” I interrupt. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Not. One. Thing.”

Patrick looks at me and sighs. “Sorry. All I’m saying is, if you cooperate and answer their questions, it will only help your cause. You said you’ve done nothing wrong. Let’s prove it. I don’t know what they think they have on you. We might not know unless formal charges are filed and we get the discovery. The only thing our attorneys have heard are whispers of wire fraud.”

“Wire fraud?” my father belts. Kipp Montgomery is an imposing figure any day but, right now, he’s on fire. His deep voice rumbles through my downtown Dallas condo, enough to make me wince if I wasn’t just as shocked by Patrick’s news.

“Wire fraud?” I mimic my dad but in a higher voice. “The only person I ever wire money to is my broker. That makes no sense.”

“The lead counsel from Lehmans just called as I was on my way over here and that’s all they can get out of the FBI. We’ve made the appointment for first thing in the morning. I will be there along with the team from Lehmans. You don’t answer a question unless we give you the nod, but it’s important you come across as helpful and willing to get this rectified.” Patrick stands and collects his things. It’s late—almost midnight. Just when I thought I was done for the day, my dad wanted a briefing and Patrick came over to rehash it all over again. “Get some rest. There’s nothing to prepare for. Lehmans is digging through your bank records as we speak and I’ve ordered an internal audit, as well.”

“What time is the interview?” my dad demands.

Patrick makes his way to my door before turning back one last time. “Nine o’clock. But it doesn’t matter that you’re her superior or her father. You can’t be there. Now, leave her alone so she can get some rest. We’ll get her through this. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Patrick.” I walk to the door and lock it.

My dad sighs and leans back into his chair. Right now, I want nothing more than to be by myself and for this entire day—no, this entire fucked-up situation—to be over. I walk to my kitchen and open the fridge, grabbing a container of hummus I pray is still good. After giving it a smell, I head to the pantry for crackers. It’ll have to do. I need my bed even though I doubt I’ll be able to sleep.

“Jenny.”

I look out from my kitchen and through the open space where my dad looks uncomfortable, sitting in a chair that’s cool as shit but not made for relaxing. The black iron industrial frame and white cushions are a stark contrast to the plush leathers he’s used to at the ranch.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what this is about, but Patrick will get it worked out. I trust him and Lehmans is the best.”

All I can do is nod as I chew on a semi-stale cracker lumped with hummus and hope he’s right.

He goes on to tell the truth that I worry about every day. “This is a bunch of cockshit. Everyone knows you’re in the position you’re in because you’re my daughter, but you’ve proven yourself. I know you worry about that—hell, it’s written all over you.”

I swallow and go for another cracker that really just tastes like sawdust. “I don’t know, Dad. The FBI served a warrant today and I was the subject. The last thing I’m worried about right now is proving myself capable of doing the job my Daddy gave me.”

He gets up and ambles over to me. “Quit with the sass.”

At fifty-nine, my dad is still in shape since his hobby is working on his ranch. It’s where he is every evening and weekend, laboring side-by-side with his ranch hands. Whereas Cam and Ellie got my mother’s blue eyes and lighter hair, I’m all Kipp Montgomery. He might be more salt than pepper now, but his once dark hair—the same as mine—is still thick and wavy. When he gets close and his eyes, the color of fresh tilled earth, land on me, it’s all I can do to hold it together. Pulling me into his arms, I suddenly don’t feel like a CFO—like someone who carries the weight of a corporation around on my shoulders. I always have to prove I can do the job I was handed instead of being handed the job because I proved I could do it. No, I’m exhausted and feel too old to only be thirty.

“You need a real meal.” He changes the subject. “I’ll have your mom cook for you. You eat like shit.”

I return his hug yet refute him. “Mom just had a heart attack, in case you forgot, and her experiments with low-fat recipes have been nothing but a disaster. I’ll stick to eating my own shit food.”

“You’re too skinny,” he gives me a squeeze before taking me by the shoulders to level his eyes on me. “I worry I’ve put too much on you. Now, with this happening today, I don’t want the stress to get to you.”

I give him a small smile. “I’m doing exactly what I always wanted to do and you know it. Yeah, I could do without the federal warrant and wondering what the hell is going on. But, other than that, I’m good. Really.”

He leans in and plants a kiss on top of my head. “Get some sleep and call me after the meeting tomorrow. Your mom is a mess of worry over this. I wouldn’t let her come tonight ‘cause all she’d do is flutter around like a chicken with her head cut off.”

I’m more grateful for that than he knows, but I change the subject. “How are the wedding plans coming along? Is Paige feeling okay?”

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