“You can no longer corner me after meetings and assume silence protects you.”
“You are making accusations.”
“I am describing events.”
Grayson lowered his voice.
“Be careful.”
Nathan opened the schoolhouse door.
Not entering.
Just opening it.
“Everything all right?”
Eliza looked at him.
“Yes.”
Then at Grayson.
“We were finishing.”
Grayson put on his hat.
“This is not over.”
Eliza answered:
“I hope not.”
That surprised him.
She smiled.
“I would very much like a public meeting.”
Grayson left.
Nathan entered.
“You enjoyed that.”
“A little.”
“You were frightening.”
“Good.”
He smiled.
Then his expression became serious.
“You should not be alone with him.”
Eliza stiffened.
“Nathan.”
He raised both hands.
“Poor wording.”
“Yes.”
“I meant we should document every interaction.”
She relaxed slightly.
“That I agree with.”
He looked at the closed door.
“He is afraid of something.”
“Rejection.”
“No.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Men like Grayson become angry at rejection.”
“That was fear.”
Eliza thought.
“What would he be afraid of?”
Nathan looked toward the desk.
“I don’t know.”
They began finding out accidentally.
Three days later, Eliza received the school’s September supply invoice.
Coal.
Chalk.
Copybooks.
Lamp oil.
Heating wood.
Nothing unusual.
Except the amounts.
She had managed the schoolhouse daily for three years.
She knew consumption.
The invoice claimed they had purchased thirty-eight gallons of lamp oil since June.
Eliza stared.
Impossible.
The building was barely used after dark during summer.
Coal too.
Three tons charged.
Only one delivered.
She went to the storage shed.
Counted.
Then checked July.
June.
May.
Same pattern.
Overbilling.
Perhaps errors.
Then she saw the supplier.
Grayson Mercantile & Freight.
Eliza sat back.
Mr. Grayson’s company.
The board member responsible for approving school purchases was also supplying them.
She had known that generally.
Small towns had overlapping roles.
But she had never studied the numbers.
Now she did.
Nathan came home that evening to find every surface in the dining room covered with papers.
He stopped.
“Eliza?”
She looked up.
“Do not move anything.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“I was thinking about eating.”
“Kitchen.”
“This is my dining table.”
“Not tonight.”
Nathan smiled.
“Marriage is changing me.”
She ignored him.
“Come here.”
He did.
She showed him.
Invoice versus actual stores.