Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“You’ve got something, don’t you?” I look up from my own work of starting a spreadsheet and proposal for Four Brothers. Even if they have no problem with me branching out, I want it fucking official and them to sign off on it. Plus, each of us brings something different to the table; they may notice something I missed, or vice versa.
“Fuck, yes, do I ever.” He turns his laptop around, showing me a multitude of listings on the MLS website. He must notice my confusion. “I’ve tracked back each owner, compared them to the listing agent, then I did the same for the agent. Found a massive discrepancy after my IT tech said the real estate company was an umbrella company.” Four Brothers knows all about that, using our own when shit went down with Ezra’s woman, Millie.
“You’re shitting me. How did I not notice that this same agency has all of these listings?” I ask him.
“Because all of these were added recently. When you looked at Isabelle’s parents’ building, there were only a few under this agency. Now there are more than ten, all bunched together. Someone was thinking they’re slick. Not as slick as my tech. I don’t know how Noah Boudreaux can afford this since he’s claiming he’s destitute with his financial affidavit. He owns the umbrella company. What he doesn’t own is all these houses. A quick look at the property appraiser’s website tells me everything I need. He’s going down, and I’ve barely scratched the surface.” There’s a gleam in his eyes. This is the shit he lives for, dissecting a case to put it all back together.
“Does that mean he’s selling property he doesn’t own, lying to a judge, his attorney either being none the wiser or playing right along with him? Holy fuck, man. Isabelle has been trying to divorce this asshat for nearly nine months. Noah has no idea who he’s fucking with.” One worry is off my shoulders. The same can’t be said for the rest. Two steps forward and one step back has been the name of the game for a month now.
“I’m willing to bet you a million dollars his attorney is part owner in the umbrella company and that the judge is bought and paid for, too.” I sit back in my chair, running my hand down my face. Son of a bitch. This is going to destroy Amelie, to hear about your father swindling not only your mom but also other innocent people, trying to take it so far that Isabelle would have to pay him some kind of compensation. It’s an entirely fucked-up situation.
“What’s the next step? I mean, back home, we’d bust this shit right open, leak it to the press, and let them have a hay day with it.” So much for protecting Amelie from added stress. She’s going to carry this until the bitter end, and if Sly can’t figure out how to make Boudreaux pay back all the money he’s taken from innocent bystanders, well, she’ll really lose her shit.
“I’m going to do some digging on his attorney and judge, then do the same as we would in New York. Which sucks for you. I’m assuming you’ll be with Isabelle and Amelie every step of the way. You’ll be putting everyone, including yourself, on your father’s radar. I’ve yet to dig deep into what Mrs. Wescott talked about. The more I think on the topic, the leerier I am about the situation.”
“I’ll be with her. I’m not letting her or Isabelle’s ass swing in the wind without some kind of protection. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to hire some security. Neither of them are going to close the Inn, and they damn sure aren’t going to stop going on with their day.” I start going through other variables. Amelie can hold her own should she have to deal with my parents; it’s the media shit storm that can be fucking brutal.
“We’ll get that taken care of well before the case breaks.” Sly nods, thinking the same as me.
“As for my family, it might not be a bad idea to get ahead of whatever they’re scheming, there is no doubt in my mind, mom will do whatever it is to make sure she’s sitting in the green. Even if it’s helping dear old dad out, no matter how many times he bangs his secretary. Wescott is the money chain, and she’s there to ride the coattails.” The more I replay the conversation with Sly, the less optimistic I am that my mother is doing anything out of the goodness of her black soul.
“Already ahead of you. The Wescott’s are proving a bit more difficult to tap into without leaving any footprints. By the time we bring this to the press, I’ll have that lined up as well.”