Jax didn’t look happy and didn’t argue with her conclusion. Instead of dying in a car accident, his parents could have beenmurdered. For what? Or committed suicide? Prickles ran up and down her spine.
“Someone at Pendleton’s firm is sending us all the old Franklin files Jax requested—including correspondence. With Pendleton dead, there’s no one there to give that order.” Roark nodded at the paper pouring from the printer. Apparently caught up in the mystery, he dropped his Cajun accent.
“No one to countermand it, either,” Jax pointed out.
Roark ignored the correction. “I’m printing some of the more interesting stuff. Wonder how much a company gets paid to fix votes?”
Wow, she hadn’t gone that far in her thinking. “Enough to kill for?” Evie grabbed the correspondence rolling off the printer. “Even to this day?”
“We don’t know that. But if Pendleton died for these files, we’re all in danger.” Jax snatched half the sheets from Evie’s hands.
“So is the person who sent them. Or we’re all paranoid or bored.” Evie scanned the letters looking for glaring guilt, but the devil was always in the details. She had to read each one, line by line. “These are all over thirty years old, on Ives Mining letterhead, signed by Aaron Ives. But Franklin was partner, wasn’t he?”
“Possibly a silent role, since he had his own practice and presumably knew nothing about mining or microchips. Start-ups require cash and Franklin may have invested.” Jax dropped the papers he’d read and reached for the ones Evie discarded.
“I’d like to get my hands on one of those voting machines,” Reuben announced. “I can see how this baby functions, but I need a machine to follow the connections. A newer one would be good.”
Roark printed out a short list. “Lookin’ like Sovereign settled the voter fraud suit. A few minor players got slapped with fines. The major ones rolled the operations over into a new firm called DVM. This here’s a list of stockholders in the Southeast.”
“Stockholdershere, not California?” Evie grabbed the paper. “Oh, yeah, baby, even I recognize half these investors. Is it legal for politicians to own a company that makes voting machines?”
“What isn’t legal is doctoring the machines, if that’s what they’re still up to.” Jax looked at the list and whistled. “Most of these guys have been in office for years. Maybe we can hand this over to the FBI?”
“The feds opened their case against Sovereign twenty years ago—right about the time your parents got themselves killed.” Roark went silent as he stared at a file he probably shouldn’t have accessed. “We might oughta take a look at the case they compiled.”
If it was an FBI file, she didn’t want to know. Evie reached for the document folder they’d found at the bank. “Put the original material in here. I’m sending it to Cousin Orbis. I want to know what the man who put these in the safety deposit box and buried the key wasfeelingwhen he did it.”
She knew the men were worried when they didn’t argue.
Seven
The next morning,Jax contemplated chewing nails as he walked up and down the streets around the county courthouse, trying to judge whether to sink his last dime into setting up an office here. He needed an income. His most lucrative choice would be a position with a corporate firm in a city. Only, he’d never wanted his cushy corporate job at S&S. He’d wanted a career in the diplomatic corps.
But Afghanistan had put an end to that. The military had made him paranoid. He’d only accepted his adoptive father’s offer of a situation in S&S because his real dad had worked there. The distrust of authority he’d learned in the military had led him to wonder if his parents’ deathhadn’tbeen accidental, so he’d been investigating—until Stephen Stockton had been arrested on the Ponzi scheme. With his suspicions that the firm wasn’t what it should be confirmed, Jax had quit in disgust.
There might be more evidence to be found at S&S, but after Stephen’s arrest in the land scheme along with Mayor Block, official fraud units combed through the office now. He was better off investigating from the outside.
He didn’t believe his biological father had been killed because of Stephen Stockton’s fraud. His adoptive father wasn’t much of a killer. Hell, Jax didn’t even know if his parents’ accident hadn’t been just that, an accident. It was too late to go back and investigate speed and tire tracks after twenty years. He’d read the report. It was worthless.
But voter fraud... there was a subject he could dig his teeth into. Except he couldn’t make a living at it. Aaron Ives hadn’t left any fortune, just acres of arid land.
Neurodiverse and unprepared to survive in the real world, his sister had been living with their adoptive father when all this came down. Stockton’s house was up for sale now, removing Ariel’s safe place. Jax had to support her as well as himself. They wouldn’t starve immediately, but an income beyond his fees from Loretta’s trust was required.
Finding a For Rent sign on a respectable brick building housing a CPA, another attorney, and a dentist, Jax called the number on the sign. He was unsurprised to be directed to the first-floor accounting office.
A lank-haired blond wearing a gray suit met him in the reception area. “Geoff Hayes, CPA, pleased to meet you. Damon Jackson, right? You’re the guardian for the little rich girl?”
So much for keeping Loretta’s identity secret. After the bodies of her parents had been dug up outside of town, everyone knew who she was. “Co-guardian,” Jax acknowledged warily, shaking the accountant’s hand. Maybe this was where he should start trying on a new name.
“Ha! Maybe we could work a deal. I’ve got a great office upstairs, overlooking the courthouse. You steer her tax work my way, and I can give you a discount, throw in the utilities.” Geoff led the way up the stairs. “I’m talking to Paul Clancy about partnering with me as a financial advisor. He’s an investment broker and on the town council, good fellow to know.”
So, this was where it started, the oldI’ll scratch your backroutine, the good ol’ boy network. Jax got a discount office, Loretta got overcharged for her taxes. Hire Clancy to handle her wealth, and he’d invest in the locals who paid him favors, regardless of what it did to Loretta’s accounts. Little by little, the money got siphoned off, and very few would be the wiser.
“Her father already hired a tax guy and advisor in Savannah,” Jax said, checking the cleanliness of the stairway. It seemed well kept. “We don’t have a reason to change. He knows the accounts.”
“Ah, well, can’t blame a guy for trying. The office is prime property, should attract good clients. Heard you were from Georgia. Got a license for South Carolina already?”
“Yup, fresh out of law school I applied for multiple licenses. I wanted variety.” He’d not wanted to work for Stockton. But life happened.