Death of the Ayn Rand Scholar by Gray Cavender (classic literature list txt) 📕
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- Author: Gray Cavender
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“And order some wine. Wes said that you two came here quite a bit…so what’s good?” She started scrolling through the wine options.
Jillian asked, “Whites or reds?”
“It’s so hot out…I’m going with a white.”
“OK,” Jillian said as she turned her menu toward Georgia and pointed. This one’s nice…I’ve had it before.”
“I’m good with that…I like Sauvignon Blanc. What are you having?”
“Think I’ll have the same.”
Their server, a young woman, appeared and actually took a seat at the edge of their booth. “What looks good?”
They placed their wine orders and passed on any appetizers. The server said that ordering the same wine made her life easier, and added, “The gentleman who just left paid for your vinos. I may join you.” They all laughed.
After she had left their table, Jillian said, “So, Wes said you’re from LA. How’d you end up here…if it’s OK to ask?”
“No worries. Quite literally, I came for the job.”
You left LA to become a detective in Tempe?”
“Basically yes. I’d been looking at different police departments, saw the ad for Tempe, did some online research…and here I am.”
“That’s amazing.”
“I know, it seems strange at first, but once you break it down…not so much. See, I majored in Accounting in college.”
“Yes, Wes told me that…he said you went to UCLA.”
“Unh huh. And during my junior year I had this prof who was a forensic accountant. He was a professor and all that, but he also consulted with ‘5 0’ (you know, LAPD). He’d even lectured at the FBI Academy. I really got into the class…it was more exciting than the usual LIFO and FIFO stuff—those are accounting terms about inventory management,” she said, and made a dismissive wave with her hand.
“Anyway, forensic accounting was so interesting that it made me actually want to do the homework in the class. The following semester, I took another class with him, a one-on-one Independent Study, and learned even more. We covered actual cases he’d worked…you know, balance sheets-type stuff, but they produced convictions…and sometimes in high profile cases. Then, when I was a last-semester senior, he helped me score an internship in Loss Prevention—but in Accounting, not just Security—at Macys.”
“And that got you here?”
“No yet,” she laughed. “After I graduated, Macys hired me to do essentially the same thing I’d been doing as an intern…only now it was a real job. I stayed with them two years. They even paid for my CPA review course. I aced the exam…so…I’m a real accountant….and that leads to how I got here.”
Their drinks came and they toasted. Jillian thought Georgia was a striking woman. Her black hair was cut in a Halle Berry pixie cut. It was a great style because it emphasized her high cheekbones and her dark reddish-brown complexion.
“Ooh, good choice…I wondered if I’d be able to get a nice Sauvignon Blanc in the desert,” she laughed. “Anyway, to make an already much too long story short, my prof really encouraged me to stick with forensic accounting, which I was able to do at Macys.”
“So, were you at a particular store? Or were you more corporate?”
“Corporate…I didn’t want localized loss prevention work. And my professor helped on that because he had connections at Macy’s. At corporate, I got to work fraud cases involving large distributors.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“Absolutely, and once I got that kind of work on my resume, I wanted to move into law enforcement. Honestly, my ultimate career goal is to be a Fed…hopefully the FBI. They do so many corporate and white-collar crimes these days, and forensic accounting is almost always a piece of the puzzle…like what I did at Macy’s. I’m hoping that my accounting background AND now actual law enforcement experience will give me the credits for getting in with the FBI.”
“Whew, sounds like you’ve lined-out a great career plan.”
“Do you think so? It’s one thing to plan all this out but it’s another pull it off…you know what I mean?”
“Yes, believe me…I know. And working with Wes will help, too…more than you know. I learned so much working with him.”
“He told me a touch about your current case. When he described the victim, my first question was whether or not you knew her…you know, because you were an ASU student. He said not. Still, I guess it’s a lot to deal with…I mean because you went to the U here.”
“It is, although really, it just makes me more determined to solve it.” Jillian took a sip of water and changed gears.
“What about your parents…how were they about you moving to Tempe? And how were they about you becoming a detective?”
“Well, we are a black family, she said, and framed her face with her hands and struck a pose. “So, no, my parents were not big on me being a detective. OK, I’d describe us as an upper middle class family. Mom and Dad are both college grads, they have good jobs, we live in Santa Monica…we’ve got the whole American Dream thing going. But we’re still black. Which means if 5 0 stops us we gotta worry. I was 14 when we had ‘the talk.’ You know, about how to act if I get stopped…when I get stopped.”
“I hate that.”
“It is what it is. And what I’ve laid out, that’s what I want to do with my life. And at the end of the day, whatever their reservations, Mom and Dad are behind me…a thousand percent.”
“Same with my parents. By the way, you said they went to college…what do they do?”
My dad is an exec with Ralphs. That’s a big grocery chain in California. I don’t think they’re out here. He’s up there in the pecking order,” she said and pointed toward the ceiling. “And Mom is an exec at SONY, the record company division. Her degree was in Engineering and she was on that techy side of the business for a long time, but a few years ago she
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