Damage Control - Page 39/83

“No,” I say, suddenly warm all over, when lately, everything has made me cold. “I’m not intimated.”

But I was so very drawn to him, I think, reaching the desk, where I find a female guard I’ve never seen before.

“Hi,” I say. “I work for Brandon Enterprises. I was here late two nights ago and a very nice guard helped me. His name was Randy. Big bulky muscular guy with dark hair.” I consider a moment. “Late thirties maybe? I wanted to tell his supervisor how much I appreciated it.”

Her brow furrows. “We have a Randy, but he looks nothing like that. Actually, I don’t know of anyone here that fits that description.”

“Maybe I’m remembering his name wrong.”

“We still have no one that fits that description. The two guys that were on that night were Randy and Josh, but he is twenty-five, blond, and good-looking.”

That’s one more guard than I saw the other night, but it doesn’t help me much. My formerly knotted stomach is now downright sick. “It must have been a Brandon Enterprises employee. Thanks anyway.” I turn away and start for the elevator. It could have been a Brandon employee. Seth will know. It has to be a Brandon employee. Right? I mean, who else could it have been?

CHAPTER TEN

SHANE

By the time I manage to get Seth on the phone, he’s already sitting outside the house of Brody Matthews’s estranged wife, preparing to negotiate her silence. Ready to remove at least one noose from my neck, I instruct him to finish the job and meet me at my apartment, sans Nick, an ex-Fed who will no doubt pressure me to go to them for help when he hears about Martina, regardless of the price to the company. It’s a detail that has me uneasy about his employment, but hiring someone else always represents the potential of betrayal, which I won’t even consider risking. In the meantime, I busy myself reading through the documents Emily put together for me from my father’s office. Aside from the hedge fund data, which has a few potential red flags, my real point of interest is my father’s file on our largest stockholder, Mike Rogers.

When I’d agreed to save the company last year, I’d initially thought owning a professional basketball team and having a public image to protect gave Mike reason to support my efforts to clean up the company, and I’d done everything to win his faith and keep him with us. And then he’d gone cold on me.

Looking for that reason, I open his file, and turn on my computer to start comparing years of financial data, setting every other thought aside and losing myself in the investigative process. Time passes, and I down another cup of coffee before the doorbell rings. Eyeing my watch, I see it’s already near noon. Pushing to my feet, I stand and head to the door, hoping like hell Seth has contained at least one of our problems. I open it and he seems to know what I’m looking for, because he announces, “Brody’s wife took the payoff.”

I give him a nod and motion him inside.

“Emily’s rent was paid on time,” he adds, following me to the kitchen, “which means her brother is, at least, keeping her off the radar, an indication he’s not throwing her to the wolves.”

“He already threw her to the wolves back in Texas,” I say, reclaiming my barstool. “The risk of the Geminis coming after her will always exist. She can’t return to the past, or law school, and I’m the person who is going to have to tell her that.”

“She’s smart,” he says, claiming the spot directly across from me. “She already knows.”

“Knowing it and accepting it are two different things.” I change the subject. “How much did Brody’s wife cost me?”

“Three hundred, and she agreed to leave the country.”

“Three hundred thousand dollars, and her moving expenses, all to cover up my brother’s mistakes. I’m living a year ago all over again, and then some. Adrian Martina showed up in the parking lot as Emily and I were leaving this morning. That’s why I sent her to the office ahead of me.” In normal Seth style, his reaction is a nonreaction, completely indiscernible, and I give him a rundown of the entire story.

“Showing up with Emily by your side,” he remarks, when I’m done speaking, “that wasn’t a coincidence. He’s aware she’s close to you.”

“And the irony of that,” I say, “is that he didn’t have to follow me, or watch me, to find out. My brother could have told him.”

“I’m sure he did,” he concludes. “Derek made them promises or Martina wouldn’t be in your operation. There have been bumps, which means Derek needs a fall guy, because I promise you, he doesn’t want the wrath of the Martina cartel.”

“And I’m the fall guy.” It’s this part of the equation I’ve spent the morning blocking with numbers and research and no one understands how Emily must feel with her own brother’s betrayal better than me.

“Adrian Martina handed it to you, all right,” Seth concurs. “That whole ‘you’re practically family’ thing. That was a mind game, a way of telling you that through your brother, you’re in this now. You can’t get out.”

“I’m not in.”

“You’re in, Shane, and you don’t just walk away from the Martina cartel. There would be a price.” He studies me a moment. “Nick—”

“No,” I bite out.

“He has friends at the Feds.”