Family Man

can do. The kind of proof that would stand up in court is too damn hard to get.”
    “You got it.”
    “And in this case,” Luke continued thoughtfully, “we're not even dealing with a clear-cut embezzlement scheme or cash-skimming operation. Just a lot of little things that have been going wrong in the past six months.”
    “Yeah. No real obvious crime. When you get right down to it, the only thing you could really accuse the guy of is bad judgment. He had some managers do business with some suppliers who were financially shaky. Got burned. He encouraged Gilchrist Gourmet to expand too far, too fast. Got a little overextended.”
    “And had to retrench,” Luke concluded. “Had some trouble with the bank and lost a financing commitment. A definite pattern over and over again.” Luke turned off the screen and sat back in his chair. “Okay, Danvers. You did a good job. I'll take it from here. Thanks.”
    Danvers nodded and got to his feet. His left eye twitched. “Sorry I couldn't give you something you could use in court.”
    “What the hell. It costs money to go to court anyway. I can fire the bastard for free. And at his level in upper management, I don't even need to think of an excuse.”
    Danvers grinned. “You've got a point.”
    Luke waited until the door had closed behind Danvers, and then he sat quietly for a few minutes considering his options. The tricky part was going to be handling this without letting Katy know what was happening.
    She was fond of Fraser Stanfield.
    Hell, she felt grateful to him for helping her hold things together during the past few months.
    She would never believe him guilty of a deliberate pattern of corporate sabotage.
    Luke fiddled impatiently with a pen as he thought about Katy. She was too softhearted, that was her problem. She would go to bat for Stanfield without hesitation, just as she would for a member of the Gilchrist clan. She would look for excuses to explain Stanfield's behavior. She would find mitigating circumstances and ask for clemency.
    Luke knew the last thing he wanted to do was debate this matter with her. He always seemed to lose arguments such as this when he got involved in them with Katy. He would handle this problem quietly, cleanly, and without any fuss.
    Luke got up, picked up the file, and went down the hall to Fraser Stanfield's office.
    Stanfield looked up from a printout he was studying. He smiled quizzically, his gaze watchful. “Morning, boss. Heard you were in today. Saw Katy in the hall a few minutes ago.”
    Luke tossed the file down onto the desk. “The names Lawtry, Gibson, and Ragsdale mean anything to you?”
    Stanfield leaned back in his chair. “Should they?”
    “Yeah. They're three of the reasons you're going to be out on the street within thirty minutes.”
    Stanfield straightened abruptly in shock. “What the hell are you talking about?”
    “I'm talking about your deliberate attempt to drag Gilchrist Gourmet into a sea of red ink. Not enough to drown it, just enough to lower its value.”
    “If this is some kind of joke, Gilchrist, I don't get it.”
    Luke smiled thinly. “You don't have to get it. All you have to do is get out of here by ten-thirty.” He glanced at the clock. “That's twenty-nine minutes from now. Clean out your desk. I'll escort you downstairs personally.”
    Stanfield got to his feet, his eyes never leaving Luke. “Jesus. Are you crazy? Does Katy know about this?”
    “No. And she's not going to know. As far as Katy is concerned, you got a better offer. And now that Gilchrist, Inc. is in good hands again, you're going to ride off into your own rosy future.”
    “You're not going to get rid of me that easily, Gilchrist. I've worked in the inner circles of Gilchrist, Inc. long enough to know that Katy holds a lot of power. She'll go straight to Justine and tell her I'm being fired without cause. She'll tell Justine that Gilchrist, Inc. needs me, and Justine will believe her.”
    “Justine isn't running the company any longer, Stanfield.” Luke smiled again. “And neither is Katy. I am. And there's nothing you can say that will convince me I need you around.”
    Stanfield shoved his hands into the front pockets of his trousers. His face was tight with fury. “Mind telling me just what I'm being condemned for?”
    “The investigator says the nicest thing I can call it is bad judgment. The contracts you had with Lawtry, Gibson, and Ragsdale are good examples of your extremely poor judgment,