2019-06-11 - Little Secrets

[THEN]

A bottle of whiskey sits on the coffee table, a glass beside it is currently half-full but has been filled and emptied more than once tonight. Easton has a laptop on his lap, folders all around him on the couch and a very thoroughly confused expression on his face. He shuffles more paper, looks at the figures in the spreadsheet. He goes back to the contracts, and reads again, highlighting some lines, circling other things. All that he's missing basically is a big board of photos and documents with red string on it on the wall, but that's his next step.

Finally he gives up closes his eyes. He needs help unraveling this shitshow. He needs someone to dig into this, and yes, he knows a PI. And he's sure that Baylee would help, but he's trying to keep some things under wraps. She can probably be trusted, but at least for now he'd rather keep her out of this. And so he picks up his phone and texts Kevin. They barely know one another but surely he knows someone who can help him look into his own restaurant, quietly. Which of course brings us to ....

[NOW]

Sitting at a table in a small coffee shop, with a satchel on the ground next to him, Easton looks very much like a man who hasn't slept. He has a huge mug of coffee in front of him and is doing his best to demolish a giant cookie, which doesn't stand a chance.

Magnolia had to arrange the meet-up during the day because, well, her kid is in school and it means she doesn't have to arrange a babysitter, and that's basically all she can hope for. She comes into the coffee shop in her best slacks and button-up shirt, looking all kinds of professional. She's got a leather backpack slung across her shoulder -- the kind that holds a camera with some room for other stuff. She scans the shop briefly, and then, spotting Easton in all his loneliness, meanders toward him. Only when she's close enough does she inquire, "Mr. Marshall?"

Spotting her when she walks in, Easton assumes that's who he's meeting but just in case he keeps going about his business. He smiles though as she approaches, not a super warm smile, more of a tired trying to be friendly smile. "Easton, please." He doesn't go far as to actually say outloud that Mr. Marshall is his father, but boy does he feel that. In his bones. "Ms. Jones? Thanks for meeting me." He waits for her to get situated and asks, "Did you want to grab a coffee first or just get right on into it?"

"Magnolia," Magnolia provides in turn before she casts a glance toward the menu and registers, and she casually sets down her bag. "Um." She thinks about the few bills she has in her wallet, the maxed out credit card, and what exactly might be in her checking account. Then she nods. "Sure, hold on." With a quick step, the tiny blonde goes over to the counter and gets herself a drip coffee, which she then saturates in cream and sugar and some of that ground nutmeg before she returns to the table and takes a seat, shuffling her bag off to sit at her feet. She takes out a pad of paper and a pen -- very old school. "

Easton waits patiently for her to get a fix her coffee, while idly picking at the cookie that as usual looked far better than it tasted. Plus he's going to have to run that off and that's a lot of running. When she's back though, he starts in, "Right. So, this is probably a common first line, but I need to keep this quiet. I have an NDA for you to sign before we begin, if that's okay." Yes, it's a pretty boiler-plate NDA that looks like it was downloaded off the internet but still Easton wants to at least attempt to cover himself here. He slides it over to her.

"If you didn't have one, I would have offered one," Magnolia says about the NDR. Then she is sliding the paper toward her and in a pretty good script of cursive, she signs her name -- M.L. Jones. Then she glances up toward Easton with a quick smile. The agreement is slid back to him, and then she folds her arms in front of her with the coffee steaming to her left. "Alright, how can I help you?"

Easton feels a bit foolish as she reveals that it's standard practice, but what does he know, this is his first PI-hiring. He relaxes a bit now that the document is signed though, but still looks very high strung in general, as probably many of her clients do. He exhales and says, "I own a bar in town, The Two if By Sea. Or, more accurately, I thought I owned a bar, through an LLC setup by my family." He pauses and considers how much information is helpful to share and how much he can hold back. "I'm the owner on paper, but I chose to set it up with a general manager and just work there as an employee, to get... re-acclimated to civilian life." And to prove he wasn't crazy, and a lot of other things that she doesn't need to know, at least not yet.

"It turns out the paperwork for all that? Doesn't make any sense. And I can read a contract just fine. But the accounts, the contracts, the whole thing has... more layers than it should." He again looks like he might elaborate, but stops himself, for now at least.

If Easton feels foolish, Magnolia either doesn't notice or is good enough at this to not look like she notices. She is instead taking a couple notes as Easton launches into it. She's all shorthand and cop-style note-taking -- quick, precise and in a language only she can understand. Then she stops, looking up to him with a slight tilt of her head. "Alright, so there's some question as to why there's too much oversight on something that shouldn't have that much oversight." Beat. "And you want me to look into why that is."

"Yes." Easton nods seriously, it's pretty clear that he's both disturbed and a bit embarrassed that he doesn't even know how his own bar is setup. "I need someone to track down who these parties are. Quietly." Because like all good PI clients he feels the need to make it clear that he's looking for discretion. "I should be the sole owner. It looks very much to me that I have investment partners plural, but the companies and corporations don't actually lead anywhere that I can see." Which is not a good sign. That part is not spoken out loud, but again his face is pretty expressive in it's gloom.

"Further. The operating margins all seem on the up and up in gross. I'm clearing an expected amount." Obviously, there's a but and it comes in... "But." there "There's far more ins and outs in the accounts than I can track. I hope you love accounting ma'am." Yes, he just called her ma'am despite being close in age, it just slips out some times!

Magnola shorthands a few more notes into her notebook, nodding her head emphatically with each statement. She looks up after a moment, head canted to one side. "Do you have a list of these companies and corporations that appear to be investment partners?" Beat. "Have you found any contracts specific to each? It would be helpful to look at those." Then she jokes a couple more notes, stalled out briefly at the ma'am. A humored, but somewhat dry smile traces into place, and she squints at him. "Don't call me ma'am... makes me feel old." Then she takes another couple notes. "I'm not the biggest accounting fan, but I got a CPA consultant that I can tap to see if she can find anything wonky. Out of place. Maybe there's something happening that she can pinpoint."

At the prompting, Easton nods and reaches into his satchel. He pulls out a manilla folder with a good think hunk of papers in it, all highlighted and notated. Granted a good 50% of the notations are just WTF?! or WHO IS THIS?, so it's not a ton to go on, but he's at least started to figure out at the very least all of the things he needs answers to. He's just exhausted his poor single research star stat with some google searches. "I have these. It's a lot of paperwork with lots of extra clauses that are not anywhere near boilerplate language. I tried to highlight most of what looked weird to me, but some of it might just be me not understanding something." It might be, but not all of it. "As much as you could redact before sending her, I'd appreciate it." He has an uneasy feeling that he's not going to love the answer to these questions, but he's committed to asking them, for now.

The annotated contracts are taken carefully, and looked over with a slight tip of her chin. "Huh." It's not a very informative syllable. She flips though them, mostly taking in his annotations first, and skimming some of the rest. Then she looks up at him with those blue eyes, and she quirks up a quick smile that doesn't quite warm her eyes. "It's alright. I can take a look at this and figure out what I can do." Then she folds her arms in front of her, pen put down. "Is there any reason why you think someone would have contracted with these investors? Who was in charge of your bar before you resumed ownership?"

Easton watches her carefully as if somehow expecting her to immediately realize the issue. The 'huh' therefor getting a bit more attention then it should, as he sits up a little straighter. He deflates just a touch as he realizes that of course she can't just figure it out, but that was more some hope that he was missing something obvious and of course there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, right? No. At the question, he seems very reluctant to tell her, "My father purchased the bar, through an LLC setup with me as the controlling interest. It was uh.. my parents way of trying to help me readjust to civilian life and start a new career." He is loathe to admit how privileged that sounds, but she's going to know far more about his situation anyway so there's no reason to hold that back. "They've had business partners here in Gray Harbor for years, so at first I wasn't too surprised, except I can't trace where any of those names lead and I'm not sure I understand any of the financials, which don't look like anything I'd expect for a dinky little tourist bar."

Magnolia is nothing if not a carefully contained enigma most of the time. She doesn't even look impatient as she waits Easton to find his stride in answering her question. She doesn't even pick up her pen. She just listens, nodding slightly. "Alright. I'll want to start by looking into the LLC. Then I'll start investigating the investors and seeing if I can get leads. Do I have your permission to check into the bar's financial records? I might be able to trace where the income is coming from, even if it leads to shell companies." She's got connections, after all. Now she picks back up her pen, and writes some notes. "Would your parents provide in any insights?"

Easton seems encouraged by her outline of where to start and is readily agreeing, "Sure. I can get access to all the financials. Technically the general manager is taking care of this for me, but I had a question about ... something, I don't even remember what prompted this. And then I fell down a rabbit hole." He realizes that there is a glaring hole there, and adds, "And I haven't asked my gm about this. It's..." He scrunches his face trying to think how to word this, "It's fucking weird. And I'm not saying she's playing me? But it's one of the possibilities." At the question about his parents he frowns, "I'd rather leave them out of this." He would have rather they stayed out of everything altogether, but it seemed like they were genuinely trying to help him at the time. Now? Maybe less so.

"Well, I want to talk to your general manager, too." Mags tilts her head again, those long forelocks cutting across her brow. "Who hired him... or her... by the way? Was it you, or was it through your parents?" Though this is just on the tail of Easton wanting Magnolia not to involve them, and she once more gently sets down the pen. "And if I come up with evidence that they might be behind the investors?" While the question is delivered in that matter-of-fact tone, Magnolia just gently arches a brow-- a small hint at the actual inquisitiveness behind that answer.

"Yea.." Easton seems less enthused about this, but he knew going into this that bringing in a PI would mean talking about things and someone digging around. He reminds himself of that and tries to openly answer her questions. "She was recommended by a business associate of my fathers. I don't know who, he just said she came highly recommended. "Look, I will not be surprised if there is some shady shit going on here. And even less surprised if my father's involved." Which is just reason number ten thousand and five he tells himself he should have said no to this entire deal. "I mean.." He sighs, what does he mean. "Just, whatever you find, please let me know. I will pay you, even if you tell me the contracts somehow sold my dirty, used, runty soul to Colonel Sanders." And his wee beady eyes.

Magnolia can almost sense the discomfort, so she settles into a simple, professional smile; it's comfortable, easy. "It's alright, Easton. Part of our agreement is also that your business stays your business. Whatever my investigations turn up are for you to know, and I will promptly forget once my job is done." Then she bobs her head with a more serious nod. "To be honest, based on this initial interview, I think that I will be surprised if there isn't some shady business going on."

Easton visibly relaxes when she clarifies that his business will remain his business. He nods seriously, but it's clear that some of the tension has drained out of his shoulders as the relax just a touch. "Appreciated." Obviously most of her clients probably feel the same way, but Easton's never hired a PI before or felt any situation interesting enough to do so. He has relaxed enough to remember his cookie, which he shoves another chunk in his mouth right before saying, "Yea, still holding out hope that my head got so rattled I forgot how to read a contract. I think I'd prefer that at this point."

Magnolia bobs her head slightly. Then she makes one last note in her notebook before she looks up. "Well, I can't promise I won't bring you bad news, but I'll do my best to find the silver-linings." Then Magnolia is getting up and giving Easton's hand a shake. "I'll be in touch." She slings back up her bag and starts for the door so she can begin her work. Clients. The best.