Bad Seed (Jubilee, Kentucky #5)

Chapter 10

The fire at the warehouse had taken the fight out of Wilhem Crossley. After the raid, he’d mistakenly assumed it was over. Then the murders and the fire happened, and he began to wonder if it was a warning to him that he’d be next—or even worse, that his son might become a target.

After calling Harley Banks to warn her of his fears, he called his lawyer into the office to update his will and to make certain provisions in case he was unable to make decisions for himself, and then he canceled all of his appointments and went home.

Tip saw his father leaving the building, but instead of calling his dad, he called his secretary.

“Frieda, I just saw Dad getting into his car. Is he okay? Did he say where he was going?”

“Once his lawyer left, he said he was going home for the day,” Frieda said.

Tip frowned. “He met with the lawyer?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, thanks. I think I’m going to run by the house to check on him. He’s been depressed about the warehouse fire. Thanks for the info,” he said, and headed home. He found his father in the library, sitting before the fire with a glass of whiskey on the table near his elbow.

“Dad! Are you all right?”

Wilhem turned, frowning. “Tip! What are you doing home?”

“I came to check on you. What’s wrong—and don’t tell me nothing, because I know better. Talk to me. I’m not just your son. I’m also your partner. If there’s trouble, I need to know about it, too.”

Wilhem’s hand was trembling as he reached for the glass of whiskey, took a sip, and then set it aside and leaned back, staring through the mullioned panes of the french doors leading out onto the patio.

“See that pair of cardinals at the feeders?” Wilhem asked, pointing.

Tip walked past Wilhem and gazed out onto the snow-covered lawn.

“Yes, I see them. What about them?” he asked.

“Now look over to the far left, there…under the holly bush. See the feathers in the snow?”

“Yes, looks like a hawk or some predator killed a bird. So what? Survival of the fittest, and all that,” Tip muttered.

Wilhem grunted. “Yes, and the animal world and the human world aren’t so different. We’re all going along, minding our own business, doing what we do every day, and we forget that life can end in the blink of an eye. We think we have everything under control, and we’re being honest and fair, and we forget to look behind us. Or above us, as the case may be for the bird. That’s what happened to us. While we weren’t looking, someone took advantage of our business, betrayed our trust, and then killed to hide their deeds. I can’t fight what I can’t see,” Wilhem said. “I think burning the warehouse was a warning. A kind of retribution for messing up someone’s dirty little nest. I’m afraid they’ll hurt you. I’m afraid that auditor I hired to do a simple job might be in danger because of her association with me.”

Tip sat down on the ottoman at his father’s feet. “I’m here, Dad. I can take care of myself, and I’ll hire guards for you. I’ll even call the auditor myself and warn her to be careful. Is her number in your phone? Give it to me. I’ll call her now while we’re here together.”

“I already called her,” Wilhem muttered.

Tip sighed. “Again, I remind you we’re partners here. I need to be kept up to date with what you’re doing. So, what did she say? Was she worried? We can hire some security for her at her apartment.”

“She’s not at her apartment. She’s already on another job.”

“Then where is she? We’ll get security on-site for her. I don’t want you fretting.”

The cardinals had flown off and Wilhem was staring at the bird feathers scattered on the snow. “All I know is she’s not at home.”

Tip knew his father’s health was fragile. He feared this would trigger a heart attack. “Then give me her number and I’ll check in with her to make sure she’s doing okay so you can quit worrying. I think the arson investigator is due tomorrow. I plan to be on-site at the warehouse to see what he has to say. Oh…what was her name again…Harlow Banks?”

“Harley. Harley Banks,” Wilhem said, then pulled her number up on his phone and Tip added it to his contact list. “I think I’m going to go up and lie down for a bit,” he said, picked up his drink, and walked out.

Tip watched him leave, frowning at the sight. He’d never thought about his dad getting old. But it was as if he’d aged ten years overnight. What a mess. What a miserable mess.

***

Harley’s sleep was restless, and she was grateful when the sun finally came up over the mountain. She dressed, made a pot of coffee, and snagged a protein bar from the mini-fridge before returning to her spreadsheets.

It was just after 8:30 a.m. when the phone in her room rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” Brendan said. “You haven’t called room service for breakfast, so I’m checking on you.”

Harley was unaccustomed to having anyone for backup and was touched by his concern.

“Whoa. You really meant it when you said you’d help, didn’t you?”

“I always mean what I say. I just don’t always say what I’m thinking. So, what sounds good? Hot oatmeal with brown sugar and peaches, pancakes and bacon, or a ham and cheese omelet with fresh croissants?”

“Yes,” she said.

He chuckled. “Pick one.”

“You had me at omelet and croissants,” she said.

There was a long moment of silence, and she thought they’d been disconnected. “Brendan, are you there?”

“Yes, ma’am, just absorbing the fact that the way to your heart might be through your stomach,” he said.

Now she was silent.

“Sorry if that was out of order. I’ll turn in that order for you. Coffee and juice?” he asked.

“Yes, please, and I am not offended by anything you’ve said.”

She heard a soft sigh. “Good. That would never be my intent. The police will be contacting you today. If it’s okay, I’ll stop by this evening before I leave work.”

“It’s very okay. Considering the tedium of my job, you are becoming the highlight of my day. See you later.”

“Absolutely,” Brendan said. I am the highlight of her day, and she’s becoming the woman of my dreams…and in them, too. What the hell am I going to do when she leaves?

Then he shook off the worry, wrote down the order, and turned it in to room service.

A short while later, there was a knock at Harley’s door, and then a voice, “Room service.”

She recognized the waiter with the food cart and let him in, and as soon as he was gone, she sat down and ate her way through the best breakfast she’d had in years.

Hours later, she was working on the last six months of data from the hotel purchasing department when she got a call from the front desk.

“Miss Banks, there are three policemen here to see you. May I send them up?”

“Yes,” Harley said, then quickly hit Save on what she’d been working on and made a run for the bathroom to check the condition of her hair.

Some women put on makeup before the arrival of guests. Some changed clothes to present their best appearances. Harley just needed to make sure her hair didn’t look like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket. Brushing and combing hair like hers never happened, but she could work wonders with her fingers and a hair pick, and after washing a smear of ink from her cheek, she went back to the living room.

Moments later, there was a knock at the door.

After a quick look through the peephole, she opened the door. Aaron and Wiley Pope were flanking a fit, middle-aged man in uniform with a Harrison Ford squint and a serious set to his jaw. He immediately flashed his ID.

“Police Chief Sonny Warren, and Officers Wiley and Aaron Pope. May we come in?”

“Yes, of course,” Harley said, and stepped aside for them to enter, then led them into the living area.

She chose the chair next to the sofa, then gestured for them to sit. They moved in unison, removing their hats, and as they sank into the cushions, Harley read their body language.

Aaron flashed a quick smile. Wiley was already sizing her up, and the police chief was obviously curious and leaning slightly forward. She quickly opened the conversation.

“Thank you for coming. As you know, I find myself in a precarious situation, and will be grateful for any help or advice you might give me.”

“I know what Brendan told his brothers, but I want to hear all of it from you,” Sonny said.

“Right,” she said, and began explaining her previous job and what she’d uncovered, and the ensuing raid on the warehouse, all the way to the phone call with Wilhem Crossley and her concern as to whether to stay or go.

“Do you have any idea who’s behind this?” Sonny asked.

Harley shrugged. “I assume, the boss behind the trafficking ring. I never did uncover a name and the only money trail I found went from Wilhem Crossley’s business to shell companies in foreign countries. There was no direct paper trail from the warehouse back to Wilhem. And now the accountant who was juggling numbers is deceased.”

“What are the feds doing about this?” Sonny asked.

“I have no idea. I was debriefed for several hours, turned over all my notes to the federal agent in charge of the case, and assumed they would follow up.”

“And that’s the federal agent who was murdered,” Sonny said.

“Yes, sir.”

“My guess is that’s what got him killed,” Sonny said. “I know when one of our own goes down, we comb heaven and earth to get justice, and sometimes things get lost in the shuffle. That case will wind up on someone else’s desk, and they may or may not view it as a priority since the gang was arrested, the hostages freed, and the warehouse torched. They’ll be focusing on finding the shooter. I’ll make some calls to see where they stand with it, but if I do, and if there’s a mole in their unit who’s been looking the other way, my call could send a signal to the hit man as to where you are.”

Harley’s eyes welled, but she was furious. “Don’t anybody freak. I’m not about to go all weepy here. I cry when I’m mad,” she muttered.

Aaron smiled. “That’s way better than what Wiley does when he’s mad.”

“That’s not fair. I don’t hurt people,” Wiley said.

“No, but you can yank a knot in someone’s attitude faster than any other officer on my force,” Sonny said, and then they all laughed, including Harley.

“I understand the reference. I recently had the privilege of witnessing one of Wiley’s most impressive arrests,” she said.

Wiley sat up a little straighter. “You did?”

“I did, to the chagrin of a pickpocket named Virginia, who demanded your name and badge number.” Then she rattled it off in the same clipped tone that he’d used. “‘Officer Wiley Pope…spelled like the one in Rome…related to half the population of Jubilee. Badge number ten, as in the number after nine, but the one before eleven.’”

Both Aaron and the chief burst out laughing.

Wiley grinned, completely unashamed.

The laughter shifted Harley’s tears. “Okay, my mad is dissipating. And I’m not one to run or hide. I asked for your help and I’m not about to start telling you how to do it. Make the call. I’m not leaving this room until I finish the job I came to do, and then when I do leave, I will shout to the rooftops where I go next. At least that will eliminate the danger afterward to anyone here.”

“Do you want a guard?” Sonny asked.

She shook her head. “Putting a guard on the door outside this room will advertise my location. I’ll just work fast and hope for the best.”

“You have Brendan,” Aaron said. “He’s already on your side and as faithful as the day is long. Trust him. We all know he’s the best of us.”

“Just don’t tell him we said so,” Wiley added.

“I wish I had a family like yours,” Harley said.

“There’s always room for one more,” Aaron said.

Harley saw them out and locked herself back in, but Aaron’s words were still ringing in her ears.

She went back to work, only to be disturbed a short while later by the maid who came to clean, and then a member of the staff refilling the snack bar and mini-fridge. At that point, she stopped work and retreated to the sofa until they were finished.

But before she could get back to work, the house phone rang again. It was the manager, Larry Beaumont.

“Good afternoon, Harley, this is Larry. I just wanted to make sure you have everything you need, and that if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“All is well, and work is proceeding. The room is very comfortable, and the food and room service are superb,” she said.

“Good to know, and remember, I’m available any time.”

“Thank you,” Harley said, and hung up.

His jovial tone and continued reminders that he expected her to need his input to do her job both aggravated her, as well as raised an inner alarm. In her experience, the ones who were too helpful were always trying to throw suspicion on someone else.

And now that he’d interrupted her workflow, she was curious enough to log onto the website of the wholesale vendor furnishing toiletries to the hotel. After locating the same products that Beaumont had been ordering, she clicked on the Chat With option. As soon as someone responded, she pretended to be the owner of several B and Bs and wanted to know in what quantities the toiletry products were sold and what the prices were.

A minute or so later, the answer popped up along with the question, If the prices are suitable, are you ready to order? If so, I can send you a link .

She was already stunned by the difference in costs and responded with an I’m still checking other sources. Thank you for your information , then left the website.

She went back to her spreadsheets and started putting in the numbers of quantities ordered by the hotel for the past six months, then used the cost from the website as what the invoices should have reflected, and started to smile. Bingo!

She began running a background check on the owner of the wholesale business, and then repeated the process for the meat wholesaler as well, and found that the discrepancy of his meat costs to other customers versus what he was charging the Serenity Inn was huge.

If she could find a link between them and Larry Beaumont, then she’d know he was getting some kind of kickback. She just needed to prove it. Right now, everything depended on what the background checks revealed, and that was all still in progress, so she returned to the spreadsheets. No matter what else she uncovered, Ray was still expecting the profit-and-loss statement and his audit.

***

It was well after 6:00 p.m. when she finally stopped for the day. Her eyes were tired. The numbers were beginning to blur, and her neck and shoulders were sore. She needed to make a massage appointment at the spa downstairs. But she was starving, and she hadn’t heard a word from Brendan since this morning, and it bothered her that it mattered.

He’s a heartbreaker, Harley. Mind how you go.

She picked up the room service menu, scanned the options, and then picked up the phone and gave them her order. Cheeseburger with fries. A Coke and a chocolate tart. Harley’s version of health food. Her mother would be appalled.

Time passed, and with no word from Brendan, she assumed work had interfered and thought no more about it. Nearly an hour later, a knock at her door, and a voice. “Room service.”

She peeked through the peephole and sighed. It was him.

He wheeled in the food cart, kicked the door shut behind him, and then paused. “I have invited myself to supper. Is that okay?”

Harley laughed. “Very okay,” she said, and began clearing a spot at the far end of her table. As soon as the food was laid out, they sat, this time with the ease of old friends.

“Did you have to work late?” she asked.

Brendan was already chewing a fry and nodded as he swallowed.

“Somebody didn’t show up for their shift, and we all had to pitch in to cover the lack. It wasn’t bad. There have certainly been worse times. How was your day?” he asked. “Did my brothers show up?”

“Yes, and the police chief. He’s very nice. He’s going to make some calls to see where the feds are on the case, in the hopes they’ll know something we don’t. I pulled up my notes on that case, thinking since time has passed, I might see something I missed before, but I keep going in circles.”

“Talk to me about it if you want. If it’s not privileged information or anything, I’m a good sounding board.”

Harley paused. “Really?”

“Absolutely, lady. I’m your man, remember?”

“Give me a sec,” she said, took a quick bite of her burger, then bolted out of the chair and sprinted across the room. She was still chewing when she came back with her laptop and opened it.

“Okay, here goes. After it all went down, a man named Maury Paget was the only Crossley employee involved in the gang that I could identify. During questioning, he agreed to testify for a reduced sentence, but was killed in his cell. Obviously, to silence him from testifying.”

“Right,” Brendan said.

“And, I get why the federal agent was murdered. In the hopes that the case he was working would wind up in a slush pile. What I don’t get is why I’m being targeted. I turned over everything I knew to the authorities. I wasn’t a threat. I didn’t have a horse in the race. I’m just a numbers woman.”

Brendan had been eating while she was talking, but so far, he saw the logic in everything she said, until she questioned her part.

“So, what if it’s not about the usual revenge, but simple payback for being bested by a female? It wouldn’t be the first time a man’s ego controlled his behavior,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. “Okay…I can see that, but the warehouse fire doesn’t add up. Why burn down an insured warehouse and all the contents? That loss is going to yield millions of dollars in insurance benefits for Crossley Imports, which would benefit Wilhem Crossley, not punish him.”

“Maybe that was just a random incident, completely unconnected to the raid,” Brendan said.

“Maybe so,” she said, but kept staring at the notes, scrolling down, then back up to check the timelines as she ate.

“So, what about this?” Brendan asked. “What if the fire wasn’t about punishing Wilhem, but about recouping losses from what he lost that was being funneled into the trafficking ring?”

Harley nodded. “I’ve thought of that, but it doesn’t ring true for the man I knew. Remember, he’s the one who realized something was wrong within his company. He’s the one who hired me to find out where his money was going. He’s been dead honest with me from the start, and when he found out about the countless women being funneled through the warehouse, I thought he was going to pass out.”

“Okay,” Brendan said. “Then if it wasn’t Wilhem who’d committed arson, who else benefits from the insurance payout?”

Her frown deepened. Her fingers were resting on the keyboard as she let that question sink in.

But Brendan kept up the questions. “Who else besides the old man would have had easy access to the warehouse and control of the purchasing department, other than this Paget guy who got arrested for it?”

“God! I can’t imagine. I ran background checks on every employee who ever handled money at Crossley or had access to the financial department. I even ran one on Wilhem, but didn’t tell him. Who did I miss during the three weeks I was there?” And then it hit her. She missed the man who wasn’t there!

“Oh my God! It was right in my face! Why didn’t I see it before?”

“See what?” Brendan asked.

“Tipton Crossley! Wilhem’s son, heir, and co-owner. He wasn’t there. I never met him. It never occurred to me, but he’s the man who is taking over the business so Wilhem could retire. He already oversees the purchasing and accounting side of the company. The man who travels all over Europe and Asia, buying products to import to the United States. He could easily forge his father’s signature on anything.” Then she stopped herself. “No. No. This doesn’t make sense. Why would he take such an ugly route into human trafficking? His father is rich. I saw Tip’s salary and bonuses when I was auditing. He has no reason to commit this kind of crime. He wants for nothing.”

Brendan looked past her shoulder to a painting hanging on the wall, then wadded up his napkin and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket like he was going for three points. It landed in the basket without hitting the rim.

“Sometimes, pretty lady, it’s not about want, but the adrenaline rush of danger. For some people, no matter what they have, it’s never enough.”

Harley had seen that look in his eyes before and knew that, for a few moments, he’d been somewhere else.

“At this point, anything is possible, I guess. I know nothing about his lifestyle. What I do know is that opening this can of worms could backfire or bring the unnamed kingpin to justice, but if I follow this lead, I am going to need help. I do not have the clearance for deep diving in personal lives or hacking into bank accounts.”

She was frustrated and worried, and trying to figure this out before someone killed her, and Brendan felt helpless. But when she closed the laptop and set it aside, it was as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders, and he thought of Rusty.

“I don’t know if she’d agree or not, but I can call Rusty Pope, the cousin who’s ex-FBI. She may still have contacts who would help, and she may know some other agents who were part of busting up that gang…if you want me to.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I want you to. Explain what we’ve talked about, and if she’s willing to give me some pointers or advice, I’ll gladly take it. If she is, just ask her to give me a call.”

“That much I can do. Now, back to your visit from the PD. Are they going to put a guard on your room?” he asked.

“I told them not to. All that would do is alert a hit man as to where I was. And on another note, I like your brothers. They’re sweet and Wiley’s funny.”

“Yeah, he’s a character for sure, but he is the guy who’ll have your back faster than you can blink. He walked in on a bank robbery in progress a couple of years back. The perps were caught off guard, and by the time they knew he was there and fired at him, he stepped behind a pillar and put two on the floor. He fired off a shot at the last one, too, but took a bullet in the chest. It knocked him completely off his feet and would have killed him but for his bulletproof vest.”

Harley was finishing her burger the whole time he was talking, completely caught up in the story.

“That’s awful! Was he hurt bad?”

“Cracked rib, knocked the breath out of him. And his girlfriend, Linette, was one of the hostages. They’d already killed one of the bank executives before he got there. After the shooting, everyone who’d been on the floor gets up and starts running toward the door. He can’t breathe, but he’s trying to get up to stop them from leaving the scene, knowing the police will have to question everyone there. We’re all tough. Wiley always says Clyde beat the mean out of all of us until the only thing left was the good our mama gave us.” Then right in front of her, he snagged a french fry from her basket and ate it.

Harley laughed and, without thought, started to dab at a drop of ketchup at the corner of his lip with her napkin. He grabbed her wrist and dispatched the ketchup with one lick, then kissed the back of her wrist as an apology.

“I was savin’ that for later,” he said.

Harley burst out laughing. “You are a caution and a delight. I have never met a man like you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s a good thing, for sure. What else do you know how to do besides be your witty self, go fast on motorcycles, and bake like an angel?”

“I’m an open book,” he said. “All you have to do is turn a page.”

And just like that, the moment went from light to weighted with insinuations she could explore or ignore.

“I love to read,” she said, and pointed at his ketchup ramekin. “I’m out of ketchup. Can I double-dip in yours?”

Brendan took a breath. Right now, he was thinking about everything they could do together besides share leftover ketchup. Don’t say it. Just don’t the hell say it. Instead, he set the ramekin beside her plate.

“Sure thing. My fries are gone. Help yourself.”

They continued to eat, sometimes in mutual silence, sometimes popping up a new question, until they were down to dessert.

“I’m saving my tart for later,” Harley said, and got up to put her tart in the fridge, then turned around just as Brendan ate his tart in two bites.

When he caught her smiling, he shrugged. “I have never been completely full in my entire life, so if there’s food in front of me, I eat it.”

“It’s those long legs of yours,” she said. “Impossible to fill up, I guess. And I cannot imagine how your mother kept four of you fed.”

“Some days she didn’t eat. We didn’t know it at the time because we were just kids. Aaron figured it out when he got older. After that, we all refused to eat until she had food on her plate, too.”

Harley’s eyes welled. “Sometimes your stories make me cry. Other times, I have this overwhelming urge to hug away all your bad memories.”

Brendan stood up and opened his arms.

“We’re all huggers in my family. I would treasure one of yours.”

Harley didn’t hesitate. She walked into his embrace, laid her cheek on his chest, and wrapped her arms around him. It was like hugging a mountain of man and muscle, and she’d never felt so safe.

Her curls were right beneath Brendan’s chin. They were as thick and soft as he’d imagined, and the moment she was in his arms, it felt familiar, like she’d been made to fit. He wanted to kiss her, but all she’d offered was a hug, and that was enough.

Then she turned loose and stepped back. “That felt exactly like I thought it would. And selfishly, I needed your hug more. Thank you.”

Brendan ran the back of his finger down the side of her cheek.

“That which is given freely needs no thanks, but repeats are always welcome. You need to rest, so I’ll take myself home.”

They put all of their plates back on the food cart, and Brendan wheeled it out into the hall. “Lock yourself in, lady. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Talk to you tomorrow?” she asked.

“Count on it,” he said, and pulled the door shut after himself, then waited until he heard all the locks turn and the safety chain jingle before leaving.

Harley was still thinking about Brendan when she went to run her bath. She was hoping the jets in the Jacuzzi would help ease the muscles in her neck and shoulders, but the moment she stripped and felt the air on her skin, she shuddered.

What would it be like to make love to that man?

She sensed a fire within him he had yet to reveal. He’d already shown her who he was. A man rooted to the place of his ancestors, while she had no roots and no familial bond with her own parents, let alone any unknown ancestors. Instinct told her that he would take everything she was willing to give, and return it a thousandfold. But she doubted herself, and doubted her ability to find a place in this world of his.

***

Brendan was standing in the shower, letting the heat and force of the hot water pelt the muscles in his back and shoulders. He was tired from the day’s work and aching with a want that might never be fulfilled. He didn’t know how to make love to her and then let her go. He wanted her, but he was also falling in love. Then he reminded himself. The bigger issue here was keeping her alive.

***

Brendan was off to work before daylight. There was bread dough to start, and hungry people to feed, but his mind was still on the dream he’d had last night.

One moment he’d been dreaming about a fish market in New York City, when the dream morphed, and he was in the banquet room of the Serenity Inn, at Sean and Amalie’s wedding reception, and the music changed from a two-step to a waltz, and Aunt Ella came out of the crowd, still wearing the blue dress she’d worn to Sean and Amalie’s wedding and reached for him, putting both hands upon his shoulders.

Dance with me, Brendan. Just like we did before.

So, he took her in his arms, feeling the fragility of her tall, willowy body as they began waltzing around the dance floor. She was holding on to him for balance as they began, and he was taking care not to go too fast, when he realized that her snow-white hair was turning black, and the crown of braids she always wore was coming undone. They were moving faster now as he watched the thick, dark hair falling across her shoulders and down her back. He was seeing her skin lose all the wrinkles and her blue eyes sparkle with the burst of youth, and seeing her as who she’d been before the years left their marks on her face. And then all of a sudden, the music stopped, and the young Ella was still in his arms when she leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

My darling boy. Don’t be like me and get left behind. Dare to love. Take the chance. She’s worth it.

Her sorrow pierced him like an arrow to the heart, and then she was gone. He woke up with tears on his face and realized she’d just told him something no Pope living ever knew.

The reason why Ella Pope never married. She’d loved once, wholly, deeply, and for whatever reason, she hadn’t seized the moment and lost him forever. Brendan didn’t want that to be him, holding on to the fear of loss, rather than giving himself permission to dare fate. To take chances with love.

If there’d ever been love between Clyde Wallace and Shirley Pope, it was gone by the time he’d been born. He knew how relationships were supposed to work, but it was the thought of falling in love with Harley and then losing her that was holding him back.

Ella came with a message, reminding him that if he did nothing, then she was already lost. So, when he pulled into the employee parking lot at the hotel, he was ready for this day and for whatever it took to keep her safe. After that, he was playing the hand as Harley dealt it and would make peace with the end result.