Free Look Both Ways by Joan Early Page B

project ahead eased her panic, so she revisited some of the commendations she had received since joining the Sealand group.
    Sealand’s office on the west side of Canton was one of the smallest in the lending chain, and any visit from Waylon Deeds invariably sparked speculation. As soon as he arrived early one Wednesday morning, the rumors had begun. He was in town either to promote or dismiss. Susan paid little attention, though she did wonder why he constantly called her to ask for explanations and opinions that seemed outside the realm of her authority. His “how would you handle…” ended at three o’clock on Friday when he called and asked her to join him in the boardroom. Fighting rising annoyance, she tapped soundly on the closed door and waited to be invited in. The entire board of directors, including Tom Waverly, smiled at her.
    “Have a seat, Miss Cross,” Mr. Deeds said, nodding to the empty chair across from his.
    She felt her throat closing.
    “I’ve been a constant harassment to you the last few days, Miss Cross, and I apologize,” Mr. Deeds said.
    “It was no trouble at all,” she said, feeling as if he had read her mind.
    “It was, but with good reason.” He looked around the room. “This company is growing like wildfire, Miss Cross. Sealand is now making mortgage loans in twenty-six states, and we hope to add the other twenty-four. With this rapid growth, there’s been no time, and no person, to ensure uniform standards in our branches. We’ve got one office down in Louisiana, for example, that financed sixty-eight homes, packaged the loans, and tried to sell them to an investor without realizing they were prefab homes. We can’t have that kind of thing.”
    Mr. Waverly nodded in agreement. Susan’s hands were damp and her throat felt parched.
    “We’d like you to head Sealand’s loan production team, Miss Cross. You’d report to me, but everyone here will be at your disposal if need arises. You’ll make periodic visits to all branch cities for quality control purposes and make changes at your discretion.”
    Susan remembered that as a magical moment in her life, and the most memorable in her career. Her father was right. She had been a good student, even in graduate school. When Mr. Deeds had pushed a legal pad across the table showing her proposed salary as head of lending, she had seen concrete evidence that her studies had paid off. Managing a small production office had been effortless. This was her first major challenge, and she would not allow the treachery of others to shorten her stride.
    Price walked in the door and her mind was made up. It was possible that Mr. Deeds had learned of Price’s unscrupulous practices, feared retaliation, and had sent her in to remedy the situation. Or maybe as a scapegoat? Looking at his deceptive smile, she silently vowed to personally expose him and avenge the citizens of Cedargrove, even though the results could prove painful.
    She opened the meeting and introduced the newcomers.
    “I’m sure most of you know Angie Edwards from loan servicing, and this is Perry Trask, head of our legal department. As some of you know, the lending practices of Sealand have come under scrutiny by a group of citizens from Cedargrove Heights. Rev. Willard Cartwright and several others met with me and claimed applicants were denied loans with Sealand because they wanted to purchase homes in that particular neighborhood. I attempted to pacify them with contrasting figures, but that didn’t suffice, as I was told in a follow-up meeting with Rev. Cartwright. I asked Perry to join us today because I’m afraid this matter isn’t going away. Since the loan denials were made before my arrival, I’d like Price to share his knowledge on the subject.”
    Her words had burned bright crimson paths across his face.
    “I know of no such practices here at Sealand. This whole thing is ridiculous. I hope you’re not agreeing with this man.”
    “Whether I agree or