My Crazy Hot Interstellar Affair

7. IRS Agent "Not Amused" With Comically Bad Tax Return

The phone rang. Rosalie answered. "Yes, Miss Lilith? The Internal Revenue Service?" Rosalie said, fidgeting with the glossy fabric of her clown pants and eying Andie.

Andie's eyes opened wide. "What, the IRS is here already?"

"Yes, Miss Andie. Shall we send him away?"

"What? No. Let me talk to Lilith." Andie took the phone. "Please send the agent down."

"Do you not want him to get the usual ... treatment?" said Lilith.

Andie didn't like the way Lilith hesitated before saying the word "treatment." As if it were code for something terrible. "No, please see he arrives here untreated."

Lilith sighed. "As you wish."

A few minutes later, the receptionist arrived with a beanpole of a man. He took in the broken door, the broken wall, the odd-looking accounting staff. He zeroed his gaze on Andie and said, "Your tax return is actually making sense now."

This could not be good.

"Thank you, Lilith. I'll take it from here."

"I will return to accompany him out when you are finished with him," said Lilith, flashing her eyes and nodding her head, as if trying to impart an important meaning.

"Thanks. Please come into my office? Mr.—?"

"Will. Will Montgomery, Miss Bank." The auditor towered over Andie and coldly avoided her outstretched hand. His light brown hair was short and curly, and his green eyes exuded intelligence. He had three lines deeply etched on his forehead, lines that looked as if he'd endured years of taxpayer excuses. He wore a gray suit, a bit worn but neatly pressed.

"How do you know my name?"

"Read The Star Enquirer this morning."

"About me?" Uh-oh. She still hadn't told Sterling. What if she heard about Andie taking the job by reading the tabloid? She had to call Sterling ASAP. But first Andie had to handle Mr. Montgomery. It wouldn't be hard. She'd dealt with auditors many times and found them to be among the more reasonable of bureaucratic government zealots.

"Yes. I know all about you, Miss Bank."

How much did he know about her past? Her previous job, her old boss who stole from the company and tried to frame her for the crime? Even when she was proven innocent, the jerk tried to cast a shadow of doubt over the truth. Was Mr. Montgomery trying to throw Andie off her game? It would not work. Andie picked up her purse and briefcase from where she'd thrown them when she'd hit the floor earlier and opened the office door. "Ernest, could you please get me last month's financials? Also, I'd like to see the company manual and the list of personnel approved for expenditures by department."

"We are not sure what those are," said Ernest.

This was going to be a long day. Andie sighed. "Do your best." She ushered the auditor into her new office.

The room was shaped like a cube—no window, no office supplies, no trash bin, calculator, nor any pictures on the wall, which given the artwork in the rest of the building, was probably a good thing. The top of the desk was glass with a hulking, old computer. The guest chair had a worn grey corduroy seat. "Please sit." Andie gestured to the unfortunate chair. She lowered herself into a black leather swivel chair and opened the bottom drawer of a credenza next to the desk to store her shoulder bag and the camera. She'd have to get a lock installed. This place didn't seem at all safe.

"How can I help you?"

"Miss Bank, I'll get right to the point. We are preparing to file fraud charges against your company. This has gone on far too long, and we haven't received satisfactory answers to any of our questions. Your entire 1120 is a joke." He patted his leather audit bag.