Page 44 of Park Avenue Princess

“Sort of like insider trading,” Hollis offered.

“Exactly,” Lynne states.

Addison then spoke up. “I also found out that the majority of the contributions to the City’s retirement fund through the Comptroller’s office has been shifted and is being invested in Hamilton Resources.”

“And somehow my father became the controlling entity of that retirement account,” Lynne says.

“And the wealth fund?” I ask.

Lynne faces me. “My father controls that. He was investing in high risk, high yielding ventures. Until more recently, that is.”

“How recent?” I ask, knowing where she’s going to go with this.

“They lost a great deal in that account this year and your father was furious. He basically ordered Carmichael and my father to do whatever it took to make up for the losses. That’s when they started tapping into other divisions, like the Dept. of Finance, the Dept. of Buildings, and yours, Dept. of Design and Construction.”

“Only your father was savvy to when you and I gained our respective positions and wanted to halt the embezzlement.”

“Yes,” Lynne nods. “But your father…

“My father demanded he continue to do whatever it took to make up for the losses.”

“But the interesting part about those most recent discrepancies is my father said he had no part in those. He doesn’t know who was involved and he wasn’t about to question your father about it. Dad assumed your father got impatient and convinced someone else involved in the scheme to supplement as well.”

“Damn,” I mutter.

Hollis holds up his hand like he’s in grade school, waiting for the teacher to call on him to ask his question. We all stare and he proceeds. “Lynne, why would your father continue for all those years when he obviously wanted to stop? And how the hell were they able to continue without getting caught? Well, until now that is.”

Lynne’s hand flexes in mine and I feel her stiffen. I notice her biting her lip, stalling to answer. Something must be very wrong. Something she’d rather not disclose.

She lowers her head, staring at our hands as she speaks. “Part of me thinks he made a stupid mistake, like he hoped he’d get caught. Wanting it to end.” Lynne looks up and our eyes meet. I try to project as much patience and understanding as I can. I want her to know I’m with her in this, here for her, no matter what.

“In the years I worked at my father’s firm, I found not one shred of evidence that any of this was occurring. Then Dennis receives a call from Carmichael and he starts digging. He uncovers the spreadsheets, the information on the wealth account. Dad got sloppy in allowing emails and data to remain in the company’s data base when all those transactions were usually handled on his private computer.”

“He’s being blackmailed, isn’t he?” Addison asks.

Lynne’s head whips up and I see color spreading across her cheeks as her eyes fill with even more sadness.

“Yes.”

“Must be something extraordinary to hold him all those years,” Hollis states, a touch of sympathy in his voice.

“It’s, yeah, it’s extraordinary,” Lynne says with shaky breaths.

I hold her hands in mine, hoping to offer reassurance, some level of comfort. “If you’d rather not say, if it has no real relevance to the situation, then we don’t need to know.”

She looks at me, relief sweeping across her face. “It’s incredibly personal and would destroy my parents. How your father could—” She stops herself from saying more as she shakes her head. “I’m sorry. None of this is on you and I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret.”

Addison breaks the silence. “Okay, so the question now is, what do we do about this situation? Lynne, if your father stops, will Hamilton expose whatever he has on him, thereby destroying him? And what about Carmichael and any others involved with the embezzlement? Do we somehow go back to the beginning, research when and how it all started, and expose Hamilton Resources?” She looks at me as if asking for permission to take down my own father. Her gaze then shifts to Lynne. “How would both of your mother’s be impacted?”

With that, Lynne releases a choked sob. She untangles a hand from mine to swipe at tears gaining momentum down her face.

“Lynne?” Addison prods.

Lynne merely shakes her head again as fresh grief transforms her face. Abruptly she stands and rushes to the bathroom. Both Addison and I stand as if to go to her.

“Please, let me.” I don’t even wait for consent before I’m heading toward the woman I’ll do anything to help. To protect.

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