Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“Damn.” Swearing reminded me to check on my nephew, and I spotted my sister’s kid speeding off in the distance. “Mason! Don’t go past the ice-cream shop. Circle back this way, buddy.”
He turned around and pedaled toward me and my potential client.
“Did you see how far I rode?” Mason shouted from yards away, grinning.
“I did. And good job turning around when I called you.” I circled my finger, indicating the area around us. “Just stick closer, okay? We’ll get the chocolate peanut-butter-cup scoop when I’m done here.”
“My favorite!” Mason said as he pedaled off in the other direction.
I joined Andrew in leaning against the boardwalk fence, getting back to business. “I gotta ask—how did nobody notice? You said you and your brother were Thompson’s right-hand men.”
Andrew sighed. “We all manage investments in our own area of expertise. There’s a lot of movement. A discrepancy of pennies goes under the radar. Even a big loss isn’t rare—that’s the nature of this type of fund. Then this cocoa bean farm went belly-up, taking a lot of investments down with it, and at the same time, Eli suddenly retired and opened a nightclub. With his new wife. Well, fiancée.”
I almost laughed but ten million wasn’t funny. “So, big red flag.”
“Yeah.” He sounded embarrassed—even apologetic. “Only then did we look back over his accounts and realize there was a pattern. Believe me. I feel like a fool for not catching on sooner.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” I said, trying to reassure the guy. “Just give me the details. You believe he embezzled all this money over the years from these little hidden investments,” I recapped. “Now here’s the ten-million-dollar question: got any proof?” I felt for the guy, but I didn’t move without hard evidence.
Andrew nodded and opened a file on his phone. “Besides the financial audit, we did a data search. Twenty years of data, memos, and documents. I can send it over.”
I wanted Kate to verify it all. She had the expertise and the analytical mind. I had the bullshit detector, but it wasn’t pinging with this guy. He seemed legit.
“So, why not go to the cops?” I asked. “The SEC?”
“I’d rather resolve this as quickly and quietly as possible. We want to recover our clients’ money and get it back to them. Headlines won’t help us do that.”
I nodded, liking that answer. “Send me the paperwork today. We’ll get back to you with a final decision.”
We parted ways, and I made good on my promise of chocolate peanut-butter-cup cones. Wasn’t going to risk my status as the cool uncle by not coming through.
Two hours later, this cool uncle was carrying a conked-out Mason into the office. I settled him on the corner couch without disturbing his snooze then went to ask my sister what she’d learned so far.
“All the docs from Andrew checked out,” she said. “Looked into Thompson and his fiancée. Willow runs a classy art gallery, and she’s made some impressive deals over the years.” Kate clicked through a few pages of her research. She was fierce while digging into a case. We shared the same drive, the same motivation. No surprise there. She’d practically raised our much younger siblings after our parents were killed in a car crash several years ago. “Here’s where the gallery is. Convenient for tourists.”
I leaned over her shoulder. “Show me the bars and cafés near the gallery and nightclub.”
A few clicks on the map where she’d zoomed in covered the street with pins. “Never say never. You’re planning to—gasp!—socialize while you’re there?”
“Not a chance, matchmaker.” I straightened and took out my phone to book a flight. “Always start in the bar when you’re looking for information.”
I did not socialize on the job. Work and women didn’t mix. A stunning brunette named Rosalinda had taught me that while I was on the trail of a stolen Medici artifact in Venice. Damn good lesson I never wanted to repeat.
No woman was worth risking my livelihood and my family’s well-being for.
Especially a backstabbing thief of a woman.
My focus was work and only work. That was exactly how it would be in Flamingo Key. I’d be there to do a job, perhaps squeeze in a spot of snorkeling, and head home—and nothing, and no one, would get in my way.
2
FAIR PLAY
Ruby
A school of fish shimmered like bright blue jewels as they swam past me, making dainty ripples in the crystal-clear water. One darted close enough to brush my leg, making me laugh—silently, since I had the regulator in my mouth.
I waved at my brother and pointed to the underwater camera he held, motioning for him to capture all this. Cole gave a thumbs-up. The Miami sun filtered through the water like a faint spotlight on the sunset-pink reef. I swam alongside glittering blue tang fish and plants that danced in the current, tranquil and silent. As I skimmed the sandy bottom of the shallow ledge, a dazzling pair of purple parrotfish shot past, racing into an underground cavern too narrow for humans. I signaled Cole, moving my hand in a circle. It’s a wrap. The parrotfish would be hard to top.