Chapter Twenty-Five
Ally flexed her fingers, fighting hard not to grab one of the loose pages on the table and shred it into a thousand pieces. Instead, she dragged her fingernails across the desk, resisting the urge to scrape the varnish.
Twelve hours after he’d returned, and Vincent still looked like he’d just stumbled in the door. He’d come out of his room a few minutes ago, dressed in jeans and struggling with a white dress shirt—the tails hanging out on all sides.
“Fuck this. Fuck all of it.” He growled as he fumbled with the front of his shirt, struggling to line up the buttons. “I can stay in my damned bathrobe—it’s almost time to go back to bed, damn it.”
Ally gritted her teeth. She’d spent most of the day wanting to indulge herself in a good, long cry in the shower or to curl up in bed with a pint of ice cream, but she was unable to do either. Edgar had his hands full trying to deal with Vincent, and she’d spent her time on the phone, canceling the day’s meetings and dealing with company business as Vincent roared and moaned his way in and out of getting humanized again with Edgar’s assistance.
He sat on the couch, bleary-eyed and scowling. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, flopping against the white shirt. “I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss over this. We’ve got the cash covered.” He gestured at his wallet lying nearby. “I brought almost all the money back. Would have brought more if that bitch hadn’t screwed up my game. I was about to pull in a huge pot with a winning hand.”
“Maybe.” Ally gestured at the pages spread out across the table. “Maybe not. The forensic accountants are still looking to see if there’s anything else you’ve screwed up with your theft. You can’t just take money from wherever you want and assume it’ll all balance out in the end. There are debtors to be paid, customers…”
“It’s not theft.” He waved her off with an annoyed snort. “That’s as much my money as it is yours. It’s all going to work out in the end—I’m going to cut this deal and make a lot of money. What’s good for me is good for the company, right?”
“Mom and Dad are going to figure it out sooner or later. They’re not dumb. They do study the books every now and then. You can’t keep taking money out of the company.” She tapped the pencil on the desktop. “You make enough. If you’re going to gamble, do it with your own salary. Don’t take anything from Sheldon Construction.”
Vincent shrugged. “There wasn’t time. I heard about this hot game in Reno, ten thousand to walk in the door. Couldn’t pass up a chance like that. Not after coming so close to getting that money back. So damned close.” Vincent grabbed a nearby bottle of water and wrestled with the cap. “Mom and Dad are old and retired. They don’t need to know anything about this. Going to be our money, anyway, when they die.”
“And the embezzlement?” The words came out harsher than she wanted, surprising her.
He tossed the cap at her. “Come on. The houses are getting built and the contractors paid on time. No one’s getting hurt. Think of it as a bonus.” He sipped the water. “At least I’m not spending money on women. Or in your case, men. How much did you pay that jerk?”
“I told you—he works with Jessie. The woman I sent after you.” A throbbing started behind her left eye. “He’s a computer expert. Helped track you down.” She forced herself to keep talking, push through the pain. “This accusation he made—is there anything to it?”
“The New York thing?” Vincent waved a hand in the air. “Of course, not—I’d remember something like that. I’m not a monster.”
“I remember you being in New York. It was just before we went to Europe.” She was careful to keep her tone as neutral as possible.
“Sure. Me and five billion other people.” He snorted. “If there was anything to this, don’t you think the cops would be on it?” He waved a hand in the air. “Five years since this supposedly happened and no one’s come to us asking about this. You gonna take the word of an IT guy over mine? Use your common sense—he’s messed in the head ’cause his buddy got killed, but that’s none of our business. His problem, not ours. Guy should get some treatment for PTSD. Making accusations like that can get him in trouble.”
“So, you’re saying Trey lied?”
“I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. Maybe he was running some sort of long con and figured we’d pay him off to go away once he flashed those pictures at us. Play on our bleeding hearts. Who knows what his plan was?” His eyes narrowed. “After you gave him access to our files, let him stomp all over our records. Edgar filled me in while I was getting changed. You broke into my computer and phone. You invaded my privacy.”
“We needed his help. We had no idea where you’d gone, what you were up to. Hell, Jessie was afraid you’d been kidnapped. It was the right thing to do.” She wasn’t going to let herself get twisted around on this point. “You’d have done the same thing in my place.”
“Maybe,” he answered. “But that’s not the point.” He leaned in. “I need to know that you believe me. We’re family, right? When I tell you he’s full of shit, you got to believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
The headache blossomed inside of her skull. “Of course, I do.”
“Good. This asshole, he’s a hacker and a danger to the company,” Vincent snapped. “I planned to be back in time for the presentation just fine.” He touched his chest. “As far as the other stuff goes…let’s keep it in the family. You stand by me and I’ll stand by you—we don’t need any outsiders poking around.” For a second his face softened. “Come on, Ally. You know I put everything I can into my work. I work hard, I play hard. Needed some fresh air, to clear my mind without Eddie nipping at my heels. I had a few drinks and got invited to a poker game away from the official tables—more fun than giving the casino their cut. I was going to call Eddie, fill him in, but one thing led to another, and I never found the right time.” He sighed. “I’m sorry I scared you; that’s all on me. I’ve apologized to Eddie. You can ask him.”
“Right.” She drew a deep breath to steady herself. “Time to focus. The presentation’s a week and a half away, so we don’t have any time to lose. Edgar will get your study schedule set up, and we’ll call downstairs to reserve the boardroom so you can practice. When you’re up to it, read over the material. We’ll begin run-throughs as soon as possible.”
He scratched his head. “Good. Shouldn’t be any problem.”
“We put out the word you were sick with food poisoning for the past week, so you’ve got a bit of breathing space there to recover.” She looked him over, taking in his appearance. “So, if you’re still feeling a little out of sorts and want to slow down, it’s fine. No one’s going to look at you any differently.”
“Food poisoning? Couldn’t you think up with something sexier?” His lips curled away from his teeth in a wide smirk. “Kidnapped by a flock of showgirls and taken to one of those cathouses out of town?”
“Food poisoning worked.” She gritted her teeth. “It worked while Jessie hunted for you.”
“The crazy woman.” Spittle flew across the table, soaking the pages. “She came right in. She came right the fuck in and screwed up the game.” He thumped the table with both fists. “The pot was close to a hundred thousand dollars.” His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “You had no right to send her after me. You’re not my sister, you’re not my mother—you’re my cousin.”
Ally sighed silently as she took in the sudden personality change. It was normal for Vincent to twist and turn after these drunken bouts, but this time it grated like never before, salt rubbed into an open wound.
Not enough time for this.
“Vincent. I need you to focus.” She rapped her knuckles on the files in front of her. “We need you to ace this presentation.”
“She almost got me killed. Don’t you dare pay her the full amount she charged you for this…” He shook his head, fumbling for the words. “This kidnapping. You start at half and bargain her down. The bitch handcuffed me like a goddamn criminal. She handcuffed me.” He shoved his hands in front of her, pressing his wrists together.
She couldn’t resist. “I know. I added the cost of the cuffs to her bill and gave them to Edgar. In case we need them again.”
Vincent’s face turned scarlet. “You…” His mouth opened and closed but nothing came out.
Edgar entered the room wearing a light-blue dress shirt and jeans. She saw the wheels turning behind his eyes, assessing the situation.
Vincent found his voice. “Listen. I want you to destroy her. Call the lawyers, sue her for unlawful confinement, kidnapping, whatever they can find. I want her out of business, forced to beg for pennies in the street. What she said to me, she…” He whipped his head to one side as Edgar placed a hand on his shoulder. “What?”
“It’s almost time for your massage. The ladies will be waiting for you.”
Vincent blinked in confusion. “Massage?”
“Yes.” Edgar tugged on the back of his shirt, urging Vincent up onto his feet. “The spa here is lovely, one of the best in the city. I’ve arranged for you to receive the best massage, the best haircut, and the best manicure this evening in a private appointment. A nice relaxing time, all for you.”
“A good idea.” Vincent cleared his throat. “An excellent idea. Thanks for setting it up.”
Edgar caught Ally’s eye and nodded.
She returned the gesture, grateful for the save.
“We’ll talk about this later. Let’s go.” Vincent turned and strode out, followed by Edgar.
Ally slumped in her chair, mentally and physically exhausted.
Finally, alone with no chance of distraction, she allowed her thoughts to turn to Trey and the ticking bomb he’d left behind.
She went back to earlier that day, when she’d ordered Trey out of the room. Edgar had taken Vincent into their suite, manhandling the chuckling, snorting jerk as she fought not to cry.
She hadn’t. As soon as the door had shut, she’d made a phone call, sending her computer security expert on a hunt.
She had her answer in the early afternoon, the email sliding into her mailbox between phone calls.
Trey had told her the truth regarding his accessing her family’s history.
According to the expert, Trey had stayed clear of the personal files, the archives that could have given him the details about Vincent’s actions five years ago. Wherever he’d gotten the information on Vincent, it hadn’t been dug out of the family vault. The firewalls around that hadn’t been breached or even tested—anything he’d learned had been from other sources.
She’d followed the email up with a phone call, unwilling to lay out her second query in a text message.
“Thank you.” She felt numb, realizing she’d been wrong about Trey—perhaps in more ways than one. “There’s one more thing I need you to do.”
She’d laid out her request.
“That’ll take a little longer,” the expert said over the phone. “You’re asking me to go outside my usual stomping grounds, beyond our company files.”
“Understood. Do what you can, just keep it legal. Consider this a priority—put everything else on the shelf. I need this done as soon as possible.”
“I’ll call when it’s ready. Best guess, a week, maybe two. Have to wait for some callbacks, and even then, I won’t be able to tug too hard on those strings.”
“Do what you have to do. If you have to pay for it, go ahead and send me the details. Thanks.” She hung up and wiped her eyes dry. There was work to do, and she was the only one who could do it.
Now as Edgar hustled Vincent downstairs for some pampering, Ally wondered if she’d done the right thing.
And if she hadn’t…what else she could do.
Ally rose and went to the window, the headache clogging her mind. The hotel room presented an excellent view of the Strip, the most famous tourist area in Las Vegas.
If she squinted, she could see the Devil’s Playground in the distance, the popular nightclub only a short drive away.
She checked her email again, hoping for some answers. Instead she found an email from Lyon Investigations. It took only a few seconds to download and open the document on her screen. Jessie had sent an itemized bill, a short professional email with the invoice attached, and payment information.
It was…enlightening.
Jessie hadn’t charged for the extra men Dylan sent off to search the bars and nightclubs, choosing to only list what she herself had done.
It still boggled the mind.
The photographed receipts were for parking lots, food—the usual expenses. The loan shark payment was there as well, listed under “extras.” Some were enigmas, begging questions.
Such as a charge for a dozen shots of whiskey, very expensive whiskey, at a high-priced bar in Reno.
Ally licked her lips, unable to keep her eyes from wandering over to the locked bar.
Don’t.
Don’t even think about it.
The invisible devil on her shoulder nattered about picking a fight with Jessie, considering she was in on Trey’s deception. She and Dylan had pushed Trey into Ally’s life, put him right where he needed to be to confront Vincent. It’d serve them right if she refused to pay the entire bill, or at least demand a discount for their actions.
An angel chirped in her ear, pushing the thought away.
She’d agreed to let Trey go into their files. She was the one who had asked him to stay, and he’d been the one to save her from the loan shark and his men.
Ally’s beef was with Trey—not with Dylan and definitely not with Jessie.
She tapped in the payment information without hesitation, charging the fee to Sheldon Construction. If her parents picked up on it, great. It’d save her trying to figure out how to bring up the topic.
A yawn came up, shocking her as she covered her mouth. It was time to shut things down and go to bed.
Her skin tingled at the memory of last night, of the way Trey had felt—how he’d touched her body and soul, how he’d shown her a side of him she’d never suspected existed.
And she’d thrown him out the door, her stinking drunken brother standing beside her.
Damn it.
She rubbed her cheeks.
You couldn’t take the chance, she told herself. You couldn’t risk the company, taking him at his word he hadn’t hacked the servers, or used you to further his own goals.
But he hadn’t—as far as she could tell, he’d told her the truth.
Except about her adopted brother.
He had to be wrong. There was no way Vincent would have run down people in the street and then fled the scene.
Would he?
She glanced at the wall, remembering the man who had brashly walked out only a few minutes ago.
A cold ball of fear curdled in her stomach.