Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Chapter seventy-seven
Eric
Iride down in the elevator with my father and two EMTs, my mind calculating the who, what, when and why of what just happened in that hotel room. All the while my father’s heartbeat on the monitor pounds a steady beat. The risk for him will come down to the type of poison, some of which can cause rapid and fatal organ damage.
Nothing about my father being a target makes sense.
Who benefits from him dying?
Me because I hate him.
Isaac because he gets rich.
Harper’s mother also gets rich.
I swing back to Isaac, and how damn scared he came off when he came to Harper’s house. I think he needed a fall guy. Harper and I didn’t work out.
Isaac did this, but that means he hired a professional.
The elevator doors open and I eye the EMT to my left. “I’ll meet you at the hospital,” I say, not about to ride with them. To do so would seem insincere, an actor in a movie of lies, and right now, the last thing I need is more lies.
Nevertheless, I follow the EMT crew, exiting the building behind them, but the minute I spot the press, I cut into the crowd, dialing Davis as I start the short walk to the hospital. “Where are you now?”
“I just got to the hospital,” he says. “Grayson said you needed us.”
“Exit the front of the hospital and go right. Walk a block down.” I eye the corner. “There’s a Starbucks.” I disconnect. I don’t care about making a showing at the hospital. I care about getting to Harper before her mother or the press gets to her, which means I need Davis to do damage control.
I finish the short walk and Davis is arriving at the coffee shop at the same time I am. He meets me at the right side of the entrance and buries his hands in the leather jacket he’s wearing over a T-shirt and jeans. “What the hell is going on?”
“I went to see my father. He took a drink from the coffee I brought him and started choking. I called an ambulance.”
“Holy fuck, man.” He scrubs his jaw. “Does Grayson know?”
“No. Go to him. Help him do damage control. Keep this away from Bennett Enterprises.”
“That’s impossible. You’re heading up a bid on an NFL team, Eric. You’re high profile right now.”
“Just do it. Make it happen.”
“You need an attorney, a criminal attorney. Call the guy Grayson was going to use for that big scandal he was in last year.”
“I’m an attorney,” I remind him. “And there’s nothing they can charge me with. I’m not going down.”
“You’re that sure?” he queries.
“Talk to Grayson. Do what you need to do to distance me from the company.”
“I thought you weren’t going down?”
“Don’t push me, asshole.”
“You’re negotiating the NFL deal right now.”
“You just said that. Move on. I saved my father’s life. Paint a picture in our favor.”
My cellphone rings and I grab it from my pocket and curse. “Fuck. It’s Grayson.” I answer the line to hear, “I called Reese Summer, that powerhouse attorney—”
I don’t ask how he knows what’s going on. I know. The Walker crew knows him. They do work for our firm, too. They called him. “Eric?” he presses, when I don’t immediately reply.
“I don’t need a powerhouse attorney,” I say. “That makes it look like I need a powerhouse attorney. I’m an attorney. You need to stay away from this,” I order, and it is an order. “Davis is coming to you. He’ll help you do damage control.” I hang up and focus on Davis. “Go get him under control.”
“He tried to hire that same attorney I suggested, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “You do need a powerhouse attorney. You handed your father a drink and he all but keeled over. He might die.”
“Go to Grayson,” I order.
“I’m going, but we’re going to talk about this.” He steps forward and pats my shoulder. “Because we’re friends and, genius or not, you’re being stupid. You’re fucked right now, man.” With that positive reinforcement, he walks away and Savage, who was obviously following me, steps to my side.
“I have good and bad news,” he announces.
“The bad news is your team told Grayson what was going on. What the fuck?”
His lips thin. “I’ll get back to you on that. Right now. This. We have security footage of a man entering your father’s room to deliver the coffee,” he says. “No one at the hotel recognizes him. That’s good news. It lends to a suspect other than you.”
“What’s the bad news?”
“He resembles a man we picked up on camera loitering around your building last night.”
Suddenly my father’s poisoning isn’t a singular event. “There’s a hitlist,” I say, “and I just happened to be there two times, at the right time, to save Harper and my father.”