Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“I need to go further back.”
“More binders for me to carry?” Gavin asked, watching the employees moving around us.
“Unfortunately, yes.” I stood with a sigh. “And many more reports for me to review, line by line.”
He followed me to the records room and helped me bring back stacks of binders. Going backward week by week over the past six months, I started matching physical stock against the closeout packets from shows.
One report made me pause because the final usage total during the next day’s reconciliation was higher than the number on my original field sheet. I figured I had grabbed the wrong packet and checked the job number twice. They matched.
My sheet showed what left the warehouse, what we fired, and what came back. The final report claimed more material had been used or damaged than I recorded.
I found a second discrepancy. Then a third.
Each difference was small enough not to raise a red flag due to the sizable cost of the shows. But when added together across several jobs, the missing amounts were substantial.
Several of the packets in front of me had revised numbers with no real explanation. All from jobs I signed off on, and my original sheets still matched the return forms from the sites.
I started pulling every file with my name on it to confirm the pattern. The discrepancies clustered on displays I had supervised. A lot of them were from my first solo jobs. The company's records made it look like I kept losing track of small amounts of product, but I was certain my numbers were right. “Dammit.”
“What’s wrong?” Gavin asked.
“That’s what I want to know,” my dad murmured.
I’d been so focused on the reports that I hadn’t noticed him joining us.
“You should both see this.” I waved them closer and walked them through my discovery. Len joined us a few minutes in.
My dad scrubbed a palm down his face. “Could some of these be honest mistakes? You were still getting used to solo jobs on the older ones.”
I understood his impulse to search for an innocent explanation, but the question still stung. I’d been extra careful back then because I was all too aware that most of the people I worked with thought I’d been given the role purely because of who my dad was. The last thing I wanted was to prove them right.
“No, I tripled-counted everything on my earlier jobs.”
“Field sheets are only the first part of the closeout process for a reason,” Len pointed out. “Once material returns, the crew finishes inspection and modifications are made. We should comb over every document before we accuse people of theft.”
Not only did he focus on my dad while I was the one who’d discovered the issues, but his explanation made my work sound unreliable without directly accusing me of being careless.
I jabbed my finger at the pile, angry that someone had changed the usage after the paperwork left my hands. “Valid corrections document why that number changed. These reports contain no damage form, transfer notice, or crew statement supporting the difference.”
Gavin pulled three altered statements and slid them across the table next to their corresponding field sheets. “If these were mistakes, why does every correction show inventory loss?”
He’d caught the heart of the problem while it was still a niggle in the back of my brain. None of the adjustments decreased the amount supposedly used on those jobs. “That’s a great question.”
He looked up at Len and my dad. “Mistakes happen in both directions. But none of the discrepancies Tamsin has found show extra material returning to the warehouse. Every change created a shortage that someone benefited from.”
“We need to review more reports before jumping to conclusions.” Len raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ve worked with some of these guys for more than a decade. We can’t accuse them of stealing without actual evidence.”
I barely held back my huff of irritation because he sure didn’t seem to have a problem with suggesting that I’d messed up without proof.
Luckily, my dad knew me well enough to get him out of the room. “We’ll keep digging. You go ahead and keep the warehouse functioning as close to normal as you can.”
Len nodded. “Will do.”
As the echo of Len’s footsteps became softer, Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need to know how far back this goes, how much we’re missing, and if the same person signed off on the adjustments.”
“I won’t stop until I have those answers.” For him and for me.
He headed back to the front office to handle the influx of client calls, and I began pulling more reports. My anger sped up the process. Somebody thought my name and age were the perfect cover. They expected others to believe I made mistakes out of inexperience. But I was going to prove how wrong they’d been to pull me into this.