My Lost and Found Life Read Online Free PDF Page B

grand theft charges against Diane Mitchell, 42, of Burlingame. Mitchell allegedly embezzled $1.2 million from her employer, Warren Simmons & Co., in Redwood City. Mitchell, a bookkeeper for Warren Simmons for the past nine years, is missing, and authorities fear she may have fled the country.
    â€œShe was a trusted employee for years, and we totally relied on her,” said Arthur Warren, chief executive officer of this well-known architectural and engineering firm. “We’re all still in shock.”
    Burlingame Police say the fraud was uncovered by independent auditors brought into the company in preparation for a merger. They did not disclose what led them to suspect Mitchell of the theft. Two months ago Warren Simmons announced its proposed acquisition by Martinez Engineering, the largest firm of its type in the Bay Area.
    Ashley Mitchell, 18, the suspect’s daughter, has been questioned, but no charges have been filed. Mitchell had no comment when reached at their Burlingame home.
    Those four paragraphs were wreaking havoc in my life. At school, there were two equally distasteful reactions: some people were so-o-o kind and treated me as if they were oh-so-sorry for me, while others just whispered and turned away as if I had a communicable disease.
    The school administration fell into the pseudo-sympathetic category. Mr. Rachesky, the iron-jawed principal, took me aside to ask if they could “do anything” for me. I told him I was fine.
    Predictably, Mara was one of those that put on a bogus “you poor thing” act. I was lucky enough to avoid running into her all morning. Then, right before dismissal, I heard her singsong voice behind me.
    â€œWhat are
you
wearing to graduation?” I heard her say to someone. I kept my back toward her and my face averted, but it was no use. She spotted me and danced over.
    â€œOh, Ashley, how
are
you?” she said in her most sugary-sweet tone. “You must be going through
hell.
You poor thing, I guess this means you won’t be going to
Hawaii.
We should all do something, like, take up a collection for bail.”
    With my teeth clenched, I said, “Oh, Mara, that’s so-o-o sweet. You don’t need to worry about me, but I’m really touched because I didn’t know you ever thought about anything except what clothes to put on your back.”
    I walked away without waiting to see what she would say next.
    Scott’s attitude was the most hurtful of all. He ignored me—
me,
his girlfriend. When I finally thrust myself into the middle of his little group of poseurs, they all scattered as if there were a fire drill in progress.
    â€œOh, hi, Ash,” he said casually, looking down at his shoes instead of meeting my eyes.
    â€œOh, hi, Scott,”
I mocked him in a loud voice. I was angry and ready to rock and roll. “Maybe you’d like to explain why you walked right by me after French class as if you didn’t even know me.”
    â€œHey, don’t go postal on me,” he protested, finally looking up. “I didn’t see you.”
    â€œLike hell you didn’t. I know you saw that article in the newspaper. I know everyone has read it, and anyone who didn’t read it has heard about it by now.”
    â€œYeah, that was weird. I can’t believe your mom would...” He let it trail off.
    â€œI don’t believe it. And I can’t believe all my friends, even my own boyfriend, would start acting as if I’m a criminal.”
    â€œCome on, Ash, I don’t think you’re a criminal,” he said, rocking back and forth uncomfortably. “It’s just that, well, you know my old man. He’s being a real prick. He gave me his ‘I’m a big-shot partner with a distinguished law firm’ speech and said he can’t afford to have anyone in his family mixed up with an embezzler and the police and all that. He raised holy hell last night and told me to stay away