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)
“You tell me. We’re waiting for additional testing. Perhaps we can chat today. Should I come to you? Because I can’t seem to find you at the hospital.”
“I saw a couple of your uniforms who seemed to be more interested in accusations and slander than protecting me and my family.”
“It’s their job to ask questions.”
“But not to harass innocent citizens which is a distinction that cost the police department millions upon millions of dollars. Find the man.”
“Who’s the man?”
“You want me to do your job? Wait. Yes. You do. And I expected that, which is why I hired Walker Security. We’ll be by the hospital later today. You want to talk to me, find me when I get there.”
“Which will be when?”
“When I get there.” I hang up and dial Blake. “Do you know a Detective Rider?”
“I met that prick last night. He’s chasing a promotion and thinks taking down one of the Kingston family, and its car empire, is his ticket.”
“Of course, he does,” I say dryly, right as there’s a knock on the door. “Who the fuck is at my door and how’d they get past security.”
Blake laughs. “It’s me and Savage,” Blake says. “And we have donuts.”
“Let yourselves in. We both know you have the code.” I disconnect and about thirty seconds later Blake and Savage are sauntering across the living room, both dressed in jeans and Walker Security shirts.
Unfortunately, they’re not alone.
Grayson’s with them, which Blake conveniently left out, and thank fuck his perfectly-fitted, gray pinstriped suit tells me he’s headed to the office. “Where the hell are the donuts?” I ask.
Savage pulls a bag out from behind his back. “Donut holes because we’re dealing with so many assholes.” He laughs. “Get it?”
“You’re a fucking idiot, man,” I say, taking the bag from him. “And for the record, I like éclairs. They don’t come with holes.” I head to the kitchen with a bark of Savage’s laughter at my back. “Coffee’s on the house,” I say, motioning the men to the pot.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Blake says, walking in that direction with Savage joining him.
Grayson steps to the island across from me as I pop a donut hole in my mouth. “How’s Harper?”
“Sleeping and staying.”
“Staying,” he says, his eyes sharp. “That’s good news. Did you tell her?”
“Yes,” Harper says, her voice floating down from above us at the railing. “He told me. And yes. I’m staying.”
I glance up as she heads down the stairs, dressed in a black skirt and an emerald green blouse paired with knee-high boots. “Glad to hear it,” Grayson says, rotating to greet her. “For how long?”
“She’s moving in with me,” I state, not giving her time to change her mind. “She’s not going back to Denver.” I watch Harper, waiting for her reaction.
She rounds the island and stops beside me, her arms wrapping around me as she says. “No. I’m not going back to Denver.” She pushes to her toes, kisses my jaw, and then glances at our company. “What’s happening?” she asks softly. “Why is everyone here?”
“For the coffee,” Savage says, as he and Blake join us with cups in hand.
“Everyone has coffee but me,” Harper says, rolling with the punches. “I hope that and the donuts means this is a power breakfast that makes this all go away.” She moves to the coffee pot.
“We’re peeling away the layers,” Blake assures her.
“What layers?” I ask. “Get to the point. Did you find something in the documents I had you pull?”
“You’re not in the will,” Blake states. “I’m sending you the documents soon. As for anything that connects dots between you and your brother, I’ve got plenty of data, but nothing that stands out to me. You can let that mind of yours go to work.”
“Where’s Gigi right now?” Harper asks, stepping back to my side, coffee cup in hand.
Blake’s lips thin. “Gigi got off a plane in Europe and disappeared at a private airport, where she diverted to at the last minute. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a man in position at that airport. She’s sneaky and she’s gone, at least for the moment.”
“My God,” Harper says. “What are we into? What makes a woman her age run and hide with this kind of determination? She’s literally got to be afraid for her life.”
“Which makes sense,” Blake replies. “She must know what we know. Her son was poisoned. She must think she’s next.”
“Who inherits? Isaac?” Grayson asks before I can.
“The oldest living biological child,” Blake states.
I frown. “But it doesn’t state Isaac’s name?”
“The verbiage is likely an attorney-inserted basic clause,” Blake replies, “especially considering you’re years younger than Isaac.”
“I’ve never found the Kingstons don’t do anything without purpose, especially something this important. Is there another sibling?”
“He fucked around with my mother,” Eric says. “It’s hard to believe she was the first and last woman he did that with.”