Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
B ean tightened her ponytail and glanced at herself in her office’s full-length mirror. She’d changed out of her black pantsuit and red Ferragamo heels and into her hiking wear. Who would have thought that midday hikes were good for her brain? Her mind was sharper, her caffeine consumption was down, and she’d been sleeping better.
She rolled her eyes. Okay, while the first two points may have something to do with the hiking, the third point was due to an entirely different type of exercise.
Namely, Gavin.
A flush warmed her body as she recalled “dinner” last night. They’d barely made it two steps into his home when they’d attacked each other. Clothes had gone flying, and he’d taken her hard against the wall. Then on the dining room table. And then on the couch. They hadn’t gotten to eat actual food until nearly ten, but they sure as hell had feasted on each other.
After that, they’d made it to his bed, where they’d taken it nice and slow and fallen asleep in each other’s arms. She’d woken at four-thirty—earlier than usual—but not from Gavin having a nightmare. No, she’d woken to his head between her legs. Suffice it to say, the man’s mouth was magic, and it was a lovely way to start the day.
The alarm on her phone dinged, pulling her from her thoughts. If she wanted to actually hit the trail, she needed to get a move on. With one last glance at her reflection, she grabbed her puffer coat and went in search of Gavin.
The door to his office was open. Bean knocked on the doorframe and peeked her head in.
“Ready?”
He winced as he hung up his phone. “I’m sorry, baby, but I have to take a rain check. I need to call Edward and Rita. They want to talk about Polanski’s team.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “Do you need me to sit in?”
“Nah. Xander and Wilson are joining the call with me. We won’t need your crew until we know exactly how they want to proceed.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you later, then?”
He nodded. “Have dinner with me tonight?”
She grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “Would dinner happen to be code for anything else?”
He leaned back in his chair and locked his fingers behind his head. The smile he sent her was pure sex. “Oh, we’ll have actual food tonight, but you better believe I’ll be eating you for dessert.”
Her stomach flipped. Yes, please.
Her mouth opened to reply, but she froze at the gagging noise behind her.
Xander squeezed past her and into Gavin’s office. “I think I actually threw up a little in my mouth.”
He flopped into one of Gavin’s guest chairs with a grimace. “Just so we’re clear, I have no issues with the two of you. Hell, you guys are fucking cute and I’m happy for you both. But this shit?” He pointed a finger at her and then at Gavin. “Gross. It’s like hearing your parents having sex.”
Bean chuckled. “Well, maybe if you didn’t sneak up on people, you wouldn’t hear what you’re not supposed to.”
Xander’s mouth gaped. “You’re standing in the doorway.”
Gavin shrugged. “Could have been worse.”
“Yeah, I’ve already walked in on you two making out.” He shuddered as he glanced around. “Everything in here’s been disinfected, right?”
Bean rolled her eyes. “I’m out of here. I’ll be back in about an hour or so. Two max.”
“Well, shit. Look at you, Miss Outdoorsy,” Wilson said from behind her.
Chuckling, she struck a pose. “Who’d have thought, right? But I’m sticking to the easy trails.”
“Good for you,” Wilson said, patting her on the shoulder as he entered the office and took the seat next to Xander. “Mark my words, you’ll be joining me on my eight-mile treks before you know it.”
“Don’t hold your breath.” She snorted. “On that note, I’ll leave you guys to it.”
“B,” Gavin called out, and she turned back. “You have your phone on you?”
She patted the pocket of her leggings. “Yup.”
“Call me when you get back to the trailhead.”
She arched an eyebrow, and he held her gaze, arching an eyebrow right back.
Sometimes his bossiness wasn’t as cute. “You do recall that the entire area is monitored, right?”
“Yeah.” Xander chuckled. “You guys traumatized the entire cyber team. They were talking about how it was like watching their mom and dad make out.”
Wilson chuckled. “I heard about that.”
Gavin sent both men a glare, which they both ignored. He focused back on her, his sharp jaw clenching. “I recall, but humor me? Please.”
She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t a big deal, but apparently, she liked needling him as much as he liked to needle her. Because that jaw-clenching thing he did? Pretty hot. “Fine,” she said with an exaggerated huff. His eyes narrowed, and she shot him a wink before turning.
An hour and a half later, Bean was back in her office, unlacing her hiking boots. She had to admit, she was pretty damn proud of herself.
Who would have thought she’d like the great outdoors? Not her. That’s for damn sure.
She hated to admit it, but Gavin had been right. There was something balancing about wandering around the woods. Everything was so big out there, and that reminded her to slow down. Her programs would still be there when she got back to the office. A part of her felt guilty for taking time away for herself, but she was pretty sure that was the workaholic, control freak talking. The fact that she’d even felt any sort of anxiety for taking a break was telling. She really needed to work on the whole work-life-balance thing.
Baby steps, right?
After changing out of her hiking clothes and back into her work outfit, she pulled the hair tie from her hair and brushed it out. Satisfied she looked work ready again, she grabbed her laptop and headed to the large conference room. As the first one to appear for their meeting, she dialed up Tiny. Moments later, his face appeared on the screen.
“How are you, Tiny?”
“Good. You?”
“Can’t complain.” Her eyes narrowed at the smirk that crossed his face. “What’s that look for? ”
“Nothing.” He chuckled as she continued to glare at him. “Cyber put together a montage of yesterday’s hiking highlights for me. Said to consider it a welcome-to-the-team kind of thing.”
She dropped her head into her hands. “Kill. Me. Now.”
He laughed. “Don’t worry, Bean. They love you. Though I’m not gonna lie, it’s... interesting being a part of a larger team.”
She glanced back at him and smiled at the baffled look on his face. “It’s odd, right? But don’t worry. They’ll grow on you.”
“Who’ll grow on you?” Gavin asked as he walked into the room with Xander and Alvarez behind him. Gavin made a beeline to her and dropped a kiss to the top of her head before taking the seat beside her. “Good hike?”
Warmth heated her cheeks and she nodded, clearing her throat. “Yeah, and apparently, cyber did a montage of us hiking yesterday and sent it to Tiny.”
“Of course they did.” Gavin shook his head. “How’s it going, Tiny?”
“Good. I mean, not as good as you guys, but what are you gonna do?” The man chuckled, but before Bean could say anything, he continued, “I have an interesting update on Branson Whitcomb if you guys are ready?”
Gavin glanced at Xander and Alvarez, who both nodded, and leaned back in his seat. “Go for it.”
“For background,” Tiny said, “Branson Whitcomb just turned thirty-one and is the only child of Roger Whitcomb. His mother was Roger’s third wife, Miranda, who passed away five years ago from breast cancer. Branson’s living in a condo in downtown Seattle that was owned by his late mother.”
Bean tried to recall what the guy looked like but drew a blank. As if reading her mind, Tiny shared a picture of Branson on the Smartboard. She nearly snorted. His dark-blond hair looked like it was in need of a haircut, but it blew in the wind just so. He was dressed in khaki shorts with an unbuttoned linen shirt and was barefoot and leaning on the rail of some yacht. There were Gucci sunglasses on his face and a champagne glass in his hand. The Mediterranean Sea sparkled behind him, picturesque villas dotting the background. He looked like the stereotypical vacationing trust-fund douchebag.
Of course this guy was sleeping with his stepmom.
But now that she could put a face to the name, she remembered him from the gala. He’d sat at their table next to his father and hadn’t said a word. He’d simply scrolled through his phone the entire evening—not bothering to lower its volume—with an unending glass of whiskey.
“Branson began drawing from his trust at twenty-five,” Tiny said. “Five hundred thousand a year—a lump sum for that first year, and monthly installments after that. At thirty, it bumped up to seven-fifty. When he reaches thirty-five, it’ll be a million a year from then on. It sounds great, but unfortunately for him, his father is the account trustee, and he froze the accounts shortly after Branson’s thirtieth birthday. Branson’s been living off what was in his account, but during the last six months, his funds have been dwindling fast. Very fast.”
“Drugs?” Alvarez asked.
Tiny made a face. “He’s most likely a recreational user, but for the amounts we’re talking about, my guess is gambling. He took a few trips to Vegas and Monte Carlo the year before with friends, but six months ago, he was in Vegas and blew through about a quarter mil. Ever since, he’s been hemorrhaging money. In the last six months, there have also been four large deposits into his account of a hundred grand each—all cashier’s checks. Without fail, a few days after each deposit, the money is gone.”
“Can you trace the cashier’s checks?” Xander asked.
Tiny glanced at her. “Bean?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, but it’ll take some time. Extra safeguards have to be put in place to ensure we don’t raise any flags. There’s also really no way to make any of the information we get admissible.”
“In my experience,” Tiny added, “if the money is from the mafia, triad, bratva, or whatever group, the bank’s not going to have a record of it. Those transactions never hit their books.”
“That’s fair,” Gavin said, tapping his chin with his finger.
“Any updates on the warehouse property?” Bean asked.
“Not yet,” Tiny replied. “But just going by the number of companies involved in this parcel of land, I can guarantee you that this warehouse isn’t used for anything good.”
She raked her hands through her hair in frustration. They had more information, but instead of any answers, they just had more questions, more puzzle pieces that they couldn’t get to fit.
“We talked to Edward and Rita earlier,” Gavin said. “He’s concerned about his sister. Polanski called him to let him know that Constance was at the house the evening of the shootings. At first under the guise of concern, trying to get Polanski to disclose their location. According to Polanski, when she realized he didn’t know, she changed tactics and tried to get him to loan out one of Edward’s security guards to her.”
Bean made a sound of disgust. There was something so wrong with that woman.
Gavin shrugged. “Of course, this isn’t new information to us, but according to Edward, it raised some red flags. The guy’s paranoid as fuck right now?— ”
“As he should be,” Alvarez interrupted. “After what happened to his son, who can blame him?”
“True. However, it was Constance’s concern that worried him. They don’t have that kind of relationship. He said that up until a month or two ago, he and Constance—and I quote—tolerated each other at best.”
A chill crawled down Bean’s spine. “A month or two ago? Right around when her husband froze her accounts?”
“When it’s rumored her husband found out she was sleeping with his son?” Alvarez added.
Letting out a sigh, she mentally tried to adjust the puzzle pieces. They were missing something that was right in front of their faces.
Her computer dinged. Sitting up, she pulled up her notifications. “Well shit,” she muttered, throwing her screen up on the Smartboard for everyone to see. “It’s my facial-rec software from the Hudson Island ferry.”
Surveillance video began to play. She clicked on it, pausing the video on a man getting into his car on the lower deck of the ferry. She quickly pulled up another image—a driver’s license photo—and added it to the screen.
“This is Marcus Driskel. He tripped my facial-rec program because he’s a former McClintock security guard.” She glanced at her notes. “Looks like he was a part of Rita’s security detail but was let go when they cleaned house after Anson’s kidnapping.”
“What the hell’s he doing on Hudson?” Xander grumbled.
She pulled up different video angles until she got a clear shot of his license plate. “I’ll have cyber track his car. We can see if he meets with Constance.”
“Not to be a wet blanket or anything,” Alvarez said. “But what if Constance hired him? You said she’d inquired about personal security—not only from Polanski, but from you as well. What if she legitimately hired this guy? ”
“It could be something innocuous like that.” Gavin’s jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “But something’s telling me that’s not it. At least, that’s not all of it.”
Bean knew she wasn’t alone when she said she trusted Gavin’s gut feelings. Hell, they all did.
Frustration clawed at her insides. Again, more info and no answers.
“Okay,” Xander said. “Say she’s hired this guy as her bodyguard. Her accounts are frozen. How’s she paying for him?”
Bean shrugged. “Probably the same way she’s paying for her stay at the Pacific View. Through the foundation...” Her eyes narrowed. The McClintock Family Foundation. In under a minute, the foundation’s bank register was up on the Smartboard. Seriously, whoever was in charge of their bookkeeping passwords needed to be shot.
She scrolled through the expenses. Checks for catering and photography, charges for countless restaurants and cafes. Thousands at Prada, Louis Vuitton, and Hermes.
Disgust coursed through her. “For a nonprofit, they sure spend a hell of a lot of money on not so nonprofity things.”
“B, why don’t you have cyber pull all those transactions and print them out?” Alvarez suggested. “Have them go back two full years. We can divvy it up and go through it all.”
She slowly grinned. “Like good old-fashioned detective work?”
“Exactly. The more eyes the better, right?” Alvarez rose. “I have to cut out early, but this’ll be the first thing on my to-do list tomorrow.”
“Date night?” Xander asked, then he frowned as he glanced at his watch. “Er, date late afternoon?”
“They’re having a talent show at Daisy’s daycare, and Scarlet and I plan to be front and center. Be prepared, brother,” Alvarez said to Xander with a grin. “Daisy wants to invite you over to the house this weekend so she can show you her song and dance routine.”
Bean grinned. Alvarez’s stepdaughter was quite possibly the cutest almost five-year-old she’d ever met. And the little cutie was enamored with Xander—she’d even dubbed him Xandy. Aside from her parents, Xander was quite possibly the little girl’s most favorite person.
“Count me in,” Xander said. The big lug clearly adored the little girl right back.
As they said their goodbyes to Alvarez, Bean shot off an email request to cyber for copies of the transactions. They had a kick-ass team, dammit. Between all of them, they had to find something. Right?