Page 31 of Sins of the Father

CHAPTER 14

CILLIAN

Ispot the pattern during my Monday security scan, three days after my father's birthday celebration. Every week, I review access logs - a habit that catches problems early. The IT report shows unusual files being pulled in our archived accounting records.

"These all trace back to Ms. Kelly," Wagner says.

"How long has this been happening?" I ask.

"Six weeks. Started out broad, then she narrowed it to specific subsidiaries from 2014-2015."

I nod at Wagner to go. Not random searching – a very targeted investigation of specific years and accounts. The dates match up to when we made some major financial adjustments. Restructured assets, and trusts none of the accounts are red flags if I scan over them.

I deep dive into the information she has been looking at. Orla's digital pathway cuts through our archives with a singular purpose. South Harbor Holdings. Emerald Shipping Logistics. Cormorant Enterprises. All shell companies for moving moneyfrom the family business into the mainstream. All of them with accounting ‘adjustments’ we made.

All of the companies my father had assigned to Thomas Nolan.

The name finally clicks in my mind. Our accountant, he died in 2015. One of only a few outsiders we ever trusted with sensitive work. My father liked him, and by the names of the accounts he managed, he had faith in his ability to keep secrets and do his job.

I pull up his old personnel file. Thomas Nolan, 48, survived by a daughter. Died March 8, 2015. Orla's focus on these exact dates can't be coincidence. I don’t believe in those.

Those quarterly reports contain transfer authorizations that we need to stay buried. I use my security code to access the restricted files. The March 2015 transfers grab my attention - they all have Eamon's signature on them. My brother hates paperwork. I have never seen him sign anything.

Three Cayman transfers, processed only days before Nolan died. The timing alone raises my suspicions. When Nolan died we all presumed it was a threat, a message from our rivals and nothing more. But my brothers signature, the fact that someone is digging into that short time frame—it doesn’t sit quite right. My father was running things then, I didn’t have access to all the information. I was getting my degree and making lofty plans.

A knock at my door interrupts my racing thoughts.

"Come in," I say.

Orla walks in. "The Jensen revisions you wanted me to do."

I watch her as she puts them down. She is calm and collected—still has no idea that I know she’s a fucking traitorous rat. Either she really is hiding nothing or she hides everything well.

"Thanks. How's the archive reorganization going?"

"On track. I've fixed the 2013-2015 files and out them in the new system. Much easier to find things now. That we have technology not brown folders piled to the roof."

She mentions that exact period of time. I make a mental note, that si where she chose to start her filing project.

"You didn’t need to do the years prior?" I say.

Her pause lasts a fraction of a second.

"Prior to that we don’t need to keep the records by law, so they can stay a mess." she answers. "I doubt the IRS will go back to the stone age if they ever do audit us."

It sounds legitimate. Any assistant might have done the same thing. But my gut says it is more than that, she is poking at 2015 for a reason, but what?

"I value your attention to detail," I say. "Show me what you've done."

We walk to the archives, and I watch how she moves among the files. She knows our system too well for the short time she has been here.

"These subsidiary accounts use different reporting methods," she explains, pulling South Harbor Holdings files - the exact company from her digital searches.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Quarterly reports don't match up to the yearly totals. Most companies have small variances, but yours usually match perfectly. These have manual adjustments, journals, corrections."

She found the exact discrepancies we created to move funds discreetly. Knowledge that an employee shouldn’t have—secrets she shouldn’t know.

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