Chapter Thirteen
Killian was once again reluctant to leave her the next day, but he had to. Meredith arrived early, bringing more “borrowed clothes from Jade” that he had instructed her to buy. He hated lying to Luna, but his hands were tied. She was too proud to take his money, but it was obvious that she was in need of clothes. The maternity outfits she had in her closet at her apartment were all too small and threadbare. Besides, he loved seeing her in those sexy sweater dresses that showed off her curves and baby bump.
He kissed her goodbye and gave Meredith a playful scratch on the head like he used to do when she was little. As he drove to work, he vowed he would find whoever was trying to harm Luna and his child soon.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Quinn asked as they all sat around the small meeting room at the Lone Wolf offices.
Killian paused. When he and Luna had first met, he had toyed with the idea of doing a background check on her, but resisted. He wasn’t out to use her to steal the tapestry at that time after all, plus he didn’t want to invade her privacy. But, he supposed this was for a good cause. “Yes. Go ahead.”
“Luna Rhoades,” Quinn began as he pulled up the information on his tablet PC. “Twenty-five years old. Former place of employment, Portland Museum of Art. She was terminated four months ago following the theft of the famed Gastlava Tapestry.” His brother raised an eyebrow at him.
Killian gritted his teeth. “We already know that. Keep going.”
“Although the Portland PD didn’t charge her with any crime, the owner of the tapestry, Larry Bakersfield, sued her in civil court for damages amounting to twenty million dollars.” Quinn whistled. “She retained the services of Brian McGill, one of the top lawyers in the city and he was able to defend her resulting in the judge throwing out the case. Wow, I bet that must have cost her a pretty penny.”
Killian felt lower than shit, and from the look Connor was giving him, his brother agreed. Guilt gripped him. The magnitude of what Luna had lost when he split was just hitting him now. Why Luna was still sticking around now was a mystery to him.
“What else?” he said, his hand gripping his coffee cup so tight, he feared it would break.
Quinn cleared his throat. “Well, I dug back further and…” He gave the tablet a tap and pulled up a mug shot of a man. “John W. Rhoades—Luna’s father. He’s currently serving a life sentence in the Arizona State Correctional Facility. Rhoades was a petty thief, previously did a nickel for armed robbery. When he got out, he did a big bank job with his usual accomplices, but he shot a cop hence the life sentence. Luna was two years old.”
“Christ.” Killian rubbed his palm down his face. Everything clicked into place now. His inner wolf was pacing again, urging him to go home and make sure Luna was still there, as if it was afraid she’d bolt anytime. All this time…he didn’t know about her father.
“Hey, Kill,” Connor said. “Focus. Think about that later. Remember what Archie taught us.”
Killian nodded. “Compartmentalize.” He took a deep breath. “So, what’s your analysis?”
“Two possibilities,” Quinn began. “First, maybe someone’s out to get revenge on dad. Either an old accomplice or maybe someone on the inside.”
“Or it could be Bakersfield,” Connor added.
“Hmm…Bakersfield lost in court, but I’m sure he made off with the insurance payment,” Killian said. “Besides, Luna doesn’t have anything else he could take.”
“So you’re thinking of the prison angle?”
“Work on it,” Killian instructed Quinn. “And let me know what you find out.”
Killian spent most of the day locked up in his office, trying to rack his brain and remember any details from his time spent with Luna and the last few days to see if he could think of anything significant that could help him. But, his thoughts kept straying to the past and what he had done to her. The lawsuit, having to sell her apartment, and of course, her father serving time in prison. What a shit-show she had to deal with. He vowed to make it up to her, but somehow, he just couldn’t think of anything he could do to restore her to her old life. And part of him didn’t want to. He wanted to be selfish and keep her with him forever.
“Killian!” Quinn burst into his office, Connor hot on his heels.
The hairs on his arms stood on end. He knew that look on Quinn’s face. He’d found something. “What is it? Did you find any more info on John Rhoades?”
He shook his head. “No. I mean, yes, but only to eliminate that angle. All of his accomplices from the robbery are either dead or on their last legs. And nothing significant on any prison inmates either. John Rhoades turned to drugs and became violent, so they put him in solitary for most of the last decade.”
“And—what did you find?”
“This,” Quinn showed him the screen of his tablet. “Larry Bakersfield has been in New York for the last week. I have his private jet logs to prove it. He’s also secured the services of at least a dozen PIs all over the city. I hacked into some of their servers to look at invoices. He’s been having her followed ever since she moved here.”
A chill blasted through Killian and he gripped the edges of his table so hard his knuckles turned white. “What else? Anything significant?”
“Yeah, we really need to get better security for the office. For a security firm, we’re pretty lousy at keeping ourselves safe,” Quinn quipped, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I picked up those guys who came in here on a couple of surveillance cameras around the block and got some good pictures of their faces.”
Three mug shots showed up on the screen. Connor let out a soft growl as his eyes landed on the one in the middle.
“Jack Borden, Gene McConroy, and Marty ‘Shorty’ Alberts. Shorty was the guy who was in charge of the attack on the office. All career criminals with various arrests ranging from robbery to assault.”
“Can we connect them to Bakersfield?”
“We sure can,” Quinn said in a smug voice. “While Bakersfield paid his PIs with checks, he must have used cash for these guys. He withdrew a large amount from his bank in Portland just before he left and as soon as he landed…” Quinn pulled up another piece of footage. “Bakersfield met with Shorty the day before the attack here.” There were two men on the screen, standing on a street corner. The footage was grainy, but Killian recognized Bakersfield. He handed the other man a large manila envelope. “Got this from a camera across the street. We got lucky because they were meeting right in front of the British Embassy and security there is tight ever since those terror attacks. Right after this, Shorty headed over to Brooklyn and paid for four rooms in a seedy no-tell motel, and then they headed here.”
“Fucking hell!” Killian cursed, slamming his fists on his desk.
“What do you wanna do now, Killian?” Connor asked. “Should we go get these guys?” His brother looked like he was ready for a serious fight.
Killian wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around Larry Bakersfield’s fat neck and watch his face turned blue. But, unless he was prepared to make Bakersfield disappear from this world, there would be consequences to assaulting such a prominent figure. It also wouldn’t help Luna or give her her old life back. No, Larry Bakersfield had to be dealt with publicly. “Call the Alpha’s office,” he instructed Quinn. “We’ll need the clan’s connections for this one.”