My eyes scanned the columns, stopping on a debit from two weeks ago that had cleared while I was out with the flu.
Twelve thousand dollars had been wired directly to a personal account in Los Angeles.
“I asked him about it this morning,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“He told me it was travel expenses for the palm contract.”
Raymond looked at me over his spectacles, his expression entirely blank.
“A business travel expense of that size would require a board resolution, which you did not sign.”
“So where did the money actually go?” I asked, but he had no answer.
I walked back to the empty nursery office, my boots dragging through the damp pine mulch in the yard.
The five hand-carved cedar silhouettes sat on the shelf of the blue cabinet, exactly where I had left them.
I picked up the bird shapes, lining them up on the wooden desk.
I stared at the five cedar silhouettes, realizing the nursery accounts did not balance.
