Midnight Assignment

“Mother!” John Castle shouted.

Elise and everyone else in the room jumped in shock.

“Everyone still has a job!”

“Oh, that’s good,” she said.

Elise couldn’t help the way her gaze slid over to meet Noah’s pale blue eyes. He looked as dumbfounded as she did.

“Except us,” the son sighed.

Elise cut her eyes toward him and then back to Noah. He gave a barely discernable nod and turned toward the vice-president of the bank. “Mr. Castle, can we speak in your office? There are some questions we need answered.”

The man’s shoulders slumped. “Of course.”

When Noah left with Mr. Castle, it was just Elise and one other agent left with the bank president, Mrs. Amelia T. Castle.

All the documents indicated that Mrs. Castle still ran the bank. She’d been president since 1971 when her husband had died. Her signature appeared on every important document to this day. A stack of papers sat in the middle of her desk, and as far as Elise could tell, the woman had been in the office all day.

But Elise was having a hell of a time accepting that Mrs. Castle could have had a hand in deciding to pursue the high-risk loans that had eventually crumbled the foundation of the sixty-year-old bank.

“Mrs. Castle?” Elise cleared her throat and tried to speak more loudly. “Did you understand what I told you earlier about the auction?”

“Of course I did, dear. Would you like a piece of candy?” She held out a bowl filled with the kind of old-fashioned ribbon candy they used to sell at general stores.

“No, thank you. I just want you to be aware that on January 4 the bank will have a new owner. Simpson Finance.”

The woman’s eyes closed for a moment, and her smile finally faded. “Yes, I know. Simpson Finance. They took over a bank in Lincoln last year, and they’re still up and running. It’ll be fine, I suppose. It’s time for me to retire. I just worry about my little Johnny.”

Little Johnny? “Yes, well… I’m sure he’ll land on his feet. He seems like a smart…boy.”

“Oh, he is.”

A smart boy who was old enough to be a grandfather himself. Elise straightened her spine. This woman was the president of the bank and there were rules to be followed. Ninety years old or not, Mrs. Castle was going to get the spiel.

“Starting tonight, our forensic accountants will begin reviewing every account at this bank in an attempt to give the purchasing financial institution the most accurate account of bank assets—”

“Oh, I should hope so.”

“I should warn you…” Elise swallowed the sour taste in her mouth. She felt like she was threatening someone’s nana. “That any serious discrepancies will be turned over to federal prosecutors for further investigation and possible criminal charges.”

“Well, I’ve nothing to worry about there, my dear. Of course I don’t.”

“Your customers’ accounts are safe, up to and including the maximum amounts insured by the FDIC, and we will be here from 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. to assure every one of your customers of the safety of their deposits. However, once you are escorted from the premises, you will not be allowed to return unless you’re under the supervision of Mr. James or one of his team.”

She paused and searched Mrs. Castle’s face for some sign that she understood the permanence of all this. But Elise could make out nothing beyond the powdered, papery skin and the deep lines that framed her mouth and eyes.

A small, tasteful Christmas tree glowed behind her, the halo of white lights making the whole scene that much more surreal. Just as Elise decided that nothing was getting through to her, Mrs. Castle sighed.

“I suppose you’d better find me a good box, then. I’ve got to start packing.”

Hoping the woman’s gray eyes were simply watery with age and not grief, Elise nodded as she stepped out into the hall to call for a box. In the relative quiet of the hallway, she took a moment to remind herself that this was one of the happy endings. Yes, she was firing this sweet old lady, and John Castle would lose his job, as well, but the rest of these people would start the new year with a paycheck. So when a junior team member hurried over with a box, Elise forced herself to walk calmly into Mrs. Castle’s office and help her begin to pack. She could do this for her, at least.

Then the long hard work of combing through the accounting would begin.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_90d891d4-584e-52e9-a9ef-471112b9587c)

IT ALWAYS FELT GHOULISH taking over someone’s abandoned office. Elise had refused to take Amelia Castle’s office, so she’d been left with John’s instead.

Seven hours into the takeover, she was too tired to sit down, so she stood at the black window and stared out. The cold glass poured icy air over her face, helping to rouse her a little. Blinking lights lit up the neighborhood beyond the parking lot. Wreaths hung on the doors. Most of the windows were dark now, but the houses still looked cozy.

Families were in those homes, exhausted from the holidays. Happy and tired. Elise wished she were at home. Better yet, she wished she could go back two days to Christmas itself and curl up on the chair in front of her little fireplace. Or best of all, she’d return to a previous Christmas where she could be with her dad. She missed him so much.

The one place she didn’t want to be during the holidays was here, at this bank, stuck in close quarters with Noah James.

“Someone’s funneling money out of this bank.”

She jumped in shock and knocked her head into the glass. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

She waved an impatient hand as she turned toward Noah. He stood in the doorway like an avenging financial angel. Hopefully he couldn’t see the forehead print of makeup she’d left on the glass behind her. “What did you say?”

“There are discrepancies. They’re small but consistent.”

“Seriously? Someone’s embezzling from this bank?”

“Money is missing.”

“How much?” she demanded.

“The individual amounts are small enough not to draw attention, but I don’t have a definite figure yet.”

“So, not a lot. Come on, Noah. Even I can tell these people are apple-pie, small-town folks.”

“Small-town folks are no different than you big-city types, Elise. Some are good, some bad.”

“Do not try to tell me old lady Castle is a bad seed. For God’s sake, I thought she was going to make me a sandwich!”

He shrugged, the hardness of his face not even hinting at softening. “If not Mrs. Castle, then her son. You don’t really think she’s been running things, do you?”

Elise frowned down at her coffee cup, feeling suddenly exhausted. She liked these people. The old woman who still came to the office every day. The son who’d come in to help carefully pack up his mother’s office. They were real people. Good people. Elise needed them not to have dark, hidden sides. It was just too damn close to Christmas to deal with that kind of crap. “She claims to still be in charge of day-to-day operations.”

“John Castle says he started taking over some responsibilities in 1998.”

“Regardless, I don’t believe the Castles were stealing money from the bank.”

“When did you grow a heart?”