Kindred Souls

Chapter 3

3

AlmaSeventy-eight emails, twenty-three voicemails, and a stack of files taller than Love await me when I get to my office Monday morning. I set my coffee down beside the towering pile of paperwork and plop in my chair with a sigh. I’m exhausted, and my day has barely begun.

I love it here. Lion’s Lair was our dream, mine and Leo’s, and it’s more than I could’ve ever hoped for. We’re making a difference in people’s lives by keeping kids off the streets, away from drugs, and in school, and I’m humbled by that. Yet I’m tired. It wasn’t always this overwhelming. There’s so much to do, and I feel like I’m failing.

Halfway through my fourth email, a knock sounds on the office door.

“Alma, there’s someone here to see you, a Nate Jackson,” Jen, our greeter, tells me.

I stand from my chair, “Nate? Oh my gosh, send him in.”

Nate was one of the first teens that Leo and I helped relocate from his abusive home, put into a good foster home, and finally adopted. He, like so many others, is the reason this place was created.

Nate steps into my office, all seven feet of him. “Nate!” I squeal and wrap my arms around his middle.

He hugs me tight. “Hi, Alma. I was passing through town, and I just had to stop in.”

I release him from my embrace. “I’m so glad you did. Sit.” I motion toward the sofa. “I want to hear everything. You’ve grown like eighteen feet since I saw you last.”

Nate chuckles. “Nah, not that much. But I’ve grown some.”

I take a seat beside him and put my hand on his. “You look great, Nate. You’re good?”

“I am.” He smiles, a real genuine one, and I’m filled with gratitude.

I press a hand to my chest, tears coming to my eyes. “I’m so glad.”

This is just what I needed today, a success story to remind me why our work here is so important.

“Is Leo around? I’d love to see him, too.”

My heart plummets into my stomach, and the air leaves my lungs. For a moment, I’m completely immobile—frozen in this alternate reality where Leo’s name is spoken in the present tense.

“Alma?” Nate questions, and his voice carries concern.

I shake my head, pulling myself back to the present. “Um.” I swallow the lump in my throat, releasing a sigh. “Leo passed away, Nate, over three years ago.”

I should have realized he didn’t know. How would he? He was adopted by a family in Florida well before Leo’s passing. It’s so strange to be with someone who, until just now, thought of Leo as a living, breathing person.

“No! Really? What happened?” His face is one of shock.

“I know. It’s a lot, and I’m sorry.” I pull in a breath. “He…overdosed. He had been clean for five years, and he slipped once, and unfortunately, the d**g was laced with fentanyl, and it killed him.”

I haven’t had to deal with this type of encounter for a while now, but after Leo’s death, I decided that I was simply going to tell the truth when the topic came up. I’m not ashamed of my husband. He was a good man. Addiction doesn’t affect the worst of us. It doesn’t discriminate. Sometimes, it pulls down the best of us, and people need to know that. If Leo’s story can save even one person or stop one teen from turning to drugs, then his death was not in vain.

Nate raises his arm and clutches the back of his neck. “Alma, I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” A single tear rolls down my cheek. “Me, too. He would’ve loved to see you. Who knows? Maybe he can see us. I hope he can, anyway.”

“I was looking forward to kicking his a*s in a game of one-on-one.” Nate chuckles sadly.

“Ooh, if anything would bring him back, it would be a basketball challenge.” I smile. “He could never resist competition.”

“He thought he was all that.”

“That he did.” I nod, laughing under my breath.

“You know he wasn’t that good.”

I grab a tissue and blot beneath my eyes. “Oh, I know.” I smile at the memory of Leo on the courts playfully trash-talking the kids like he was an NBA superstar. The teens ate it up and loved the competition, especially since nine times out of ten, they’d kick Leo’s butt.

“Remember that game that went on for hours? It was Ollie and Leo against Wiley and me. Every time Wiley and I would get within a point of winning, Leo would raise the ending score so the game would continue, making it go on forever. You finally showed up with pizza to get us to stop playing.”

More tears come at the memory, and I wipe my face. “I remember. Gosh, no one ever talks about him. I think it makes them feel uncomfortable, or maybe they don’t want to make me sad.” I hold up the tissues in my hand. “But it’s so nice to remember him.”

“He was the best,” Nate says.

“He was,” I agree. “You know we have a little girl?” I stand and walk over to my desk to retrieve a framed picture of Love. I hand it to Nate. “He never met her, but she looks just like him, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, she does,” Nate says in awe. “She’s beautiful, Alma.”

“Thank you.” I smile toward the photo in my hand, utter infatuation radiating from me. I’m so in love with this little girl. I put the picture back on my desk. “So tell me about you. What are you up to? What brings you back to Michigan?”

Nate and I chat for over an hour about his life in Florida and reminisce about Leo. It’s therapy for my soul. The stress over my growing to-do list has vanished.

“Before you leave, let me take you by June’s office. She can set you up with a scholarship to help with college,” I tell him.

“It’s not necessary, Alma. I qualified for loans. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will, but please let us help. The funds are there, and you are more than deserving. I insist. I’m so proud of you, Nate. You don’t even know how much your visit has meant to me today. Thank you.”

We step out of my office and walk toward June’s door.

“You all saved me, Alma—you, Leo, this place.”

I take Nate’s hand in mine and squeeze. “You saved yourself, Nate. We just gave you the tools.”

“June.” I tap my knuckles against her door before pushing it open. “This is my dear friend, Nate. He is one of our first success stories. I’d like to get him set up with some scholarships, please, as much as we can.”

“Sure thing! Come on in, Nate.” June stands from her desk to greet him.

“Make sure to stop by next time you’re in town, and the best of luck in college. You will do amazing things, Nate Jackson. I believe in you,” I say to Nate before hugging him tight.

“Thank you, Alma, for everything.”

I leave Nate in June’s capable hands and make my way back to my office to tackle my day, feeling like I can conquer the world.

After just one email into my world conquering, and my door swings open. A winded Eduardo swiftly shuts it behind him, a large folder in his grasp. “We need to talk,” he whispers, his dark eyes darting from side to side as if he’s reassuring himself we’re alone. Eduardo has always had a flair for the dramatic. It’s one of my favorite things about him.

“Oooh, this sounds serious,” I tease.

“It is,” he says flatly with no trace of a smile. This gets my attention, and I click out of my email.

Standing, I walk around my desk and motion for him to sit beside me on the couch. “What’s going on?”

“Well, it started when I went looking for the invoice for that one bouncy house place that we used last year for the spring carnival. They were really great. Remember? I couldn’t find their name or contact info, so I went looking for the original bill. When I was looking through the files, a few things didn’t add up. I didn’t want to alarm you or bring attention to the situation before I knew for sure, so I’ve been doing some digging. I had to be very careful so that I wouldn’t arouse suspicion and cause a certain someone to cover her tracks. That’s why I’ve been working late this past week, so I could have the building to myself.”

I halt his thought process. “Eduardo, spit it out. I’m going crazy here,” I say.

He inhales and releases an audible exhale. “Alivia is stealing from us.”

“What do you mean?” My brows furrow.

“I mean, she’s stolen at minimum two hundred thousand dollars from this place.”

“How do you know? That can’t be. She’s been with us from the very beginning,” I protest.

Alivia has been head of finance since we opened. She is a trusted friend and colleague. I’m having a difficult time wrapping my mind around Eduardo’s accusations.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I’m a hundred percent certain. I made sure I had all of the documentation ready before I brought this to you. I have copies of everything. I’ve only gone back a year and a half, so more than likely, it’s probably even more. I don’t know when she started.”

“Okay, let me see.” I nod toward the thick file in his hands.

He takes me through the documentation, and it’s blaringly obvious that Alivia has been skimming from the funds with fake invoices for a long time. “I can’t believe she did this.” I shake my head. “This is a charity, for goodness' sake. She’s stealing from kids! Does she have no heart? How did I miss this?”

“This isn’t your fault, Alma. You’re doing the job of ten people. You can’t be everywhere all the time. You trusted Alivia to handle the money and thought she was. You had no reason to investigate. Plus, the way she did it was very crafty. She knew what she was doing.”

“Ugh.” I slump against the back of the couch. “This makes me sick.”

“What should we do?” he asks, looking at me for answers.

“Don’t do anything yet. Just act normal. I’m going to consult with legal and see what the next steps should be. I’m thinking I’ll get legal and a tech team in here after close tonight to see if they find anything else on her computer or in the rest of the files. I don’t want her to think anything is amiss and get rid of any evidence, so be nice today.” I hold Eduardo’s stare. “Can you do that?”

He waves his hand through the air, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been nothing but cheerful with that thief for a week. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” I nod. “I guess I have some calls to make. Thank you for bringing this to me. I appreciate you, E.”

“You know I’d do anything for you and this place.” He pats my hand, giving me a sympathetic smile.

I nod. “I do.”

Taking the file of evidence to my desk, I pick up the phone to make some calls.