Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
While waiting on the drinks, I text Savage: How is she?
Still asleep, he replies. My wife, Candace, is here. I had her come over because I thought she might need a friend.
Savage wins a thousand points from me with this action. Alana just declared herself without friends, and she might actually need a female to talk to right now. Thank you, Savage, I reply.
A few minutes later, I arrive at the SUV to find Blake and Smith leaning on the vehicle and more than eager for my offering. By the time I’m holding only two cups, Joey is joining us and eagerly accepts the extra.
“That was interesting,” Joey says, sipping from his cup, the wind gusting around us in a quick, but violent, outburst, ocean salt lingering in its aftermath. “Seems like he might take care of your problem,” he continues, “but I’m concerned this meeting was a setup. Maybe he really means to kill him, but I say you get blamed.”
My brows dip. “How do you even know what we talked about?”
“We bugged the outdoor patio before you got here,” Blake replies. “We heard it all. I agree with Joey. Seems like a setup.”
“I concur,” Smith chimes in. “He’s a bad dude who’s done lots of bad things but still managed to evade trouble himself. He’s trouble of the gnarly kind.”
Like a setup. I allow those words to roll around in my head a few beats. They’re not wrong, and it makes me question every assumption I’ve made about Caleb. Did he tell me about my father’s push to kill Alana’s father because he was coming to my aid? Or because my father wanted me to know? Did he warn me about Alana because he intended for me to protect her? Or did my father want me to know that even with a heads-up, I couldn’t protect her? “My father pays him well. Regardless of any lean my direction he’s indicated, I wouldn’t assume anything with Caleb but his loyalty to my father.”
“Agreed,” Blake states. “Your father’s a master manipulator, the fucking best, and Caleb’s his equal in every fucking way.”
I think back to the conversation and the topic of the Russians. There had been a sharp uneasiness about him on the topic. “He’s worried,” I say, my voice firming as my gut screams at me. “I saw it in his eyes. There was something cutting and uneasy about him, hidden behind a façade of easygoing. Which leads me to ask, what’s going on with the Russian interrogation?”
“Our prisoner swears they were hired to scare her and you, and that’s all.”
“These are bad dudes,” Joey says. “I’ve had exposure to the Russian mob, and believe me, they might have sent in nobodies, but that simply means they’re protecting resources.”
“Normally my father would have turned to Caleb,” I say. “He wanted the disconnect in case the police got involved.” It’s not a question. It’s what I know of my father and how he operates. “And that means Caleb could have coordinated the Russian activity.”
“We’re watching him, and he’s tapped,” Blake says. “So far, nothing that connects dots. Where is your head right now, Damion?”
My cellphone rings, and I snake my phone from my pocket to find Max calling, and the last thing I’m in the mood for is stockholder bullshit, but I answer. “What, Max?”
“I’ve called you ten fucking times. The board is losing their fucking minds. Your woman accusing your father of killing her father? What the hell is going on? We need to meet.”
“We meaning who?”
“For starters, you and me. Today.”
“I’m in a meeting. I’ll call you in half an hour.” I disconnect and meet Blake’s stare. “I need this to end.”
“I’ve got the material on your father you gave me for the FBI. I have a meeting set-up with a friend, but you need to know they’ll dive deep into you and the company. Even if you’re innocent of crimes, they’ll make you feel like you aren’t.”
“It’s too complicated. Too drawn out,” I say, waving off the idea.
Blake’s attention remains fixed on me. “Where’s your head on this?”
“I need to shake his world, rattle him while you’re watching, and force him to expose himself. Alana set the stage. I need to layer on the hell, even if it means she has to go to the police and push for him to be questioned.”
“I was in the Army with a local detective,” Smith says. “I can get him involved.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Blake adds, “but the more Alana speaks publicly, the more pressure it places on law enforcement to act. Better use her now to end this than allow her to remain exposed. We’ll protect her.”
“Like we protected her last night?” I challenge.
“Point taken as a punch in the gut,” Blake concedes, “but she’s safe, and you have my word she will stay safe. A pressure campaign comes with risks. The person feeling the heat will buckle, it’s just a matter of when and how. It might not be the how you wish for. You have to be prepared for that.”