Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
FORD
Iwatched Paige follow Hope out of the office, trying to calm the twinge of nerves. Hope was straightforward. She wouldn’t have told Paige everything was fine and then taken her off to fire her. Still, I couldn’t help but worry. I didn’t like seeing the anxiety in Paige’s eyes as she left.
I looked back to see Hawk standing beside Griffen’s chair, scanning through the letters, comparing them to the postcards.
“Definitely not the same handwriting,” he said. “How the fuck did we miss Paige’s connection to Sarah?”
“Because Paige didn’t lie,” Griffen said. “She held back some information. But there’s no link between Paige McKenna and Paul Williams aside from her birth certificate, and even if we’d pulled that, it wouldn’t have meant anything to us.”
Hawk picked up the picture of our mother, studying it. “I’ve never heard the name Paul Williams before in relation to the Sawyer family or your mother.”
“Neither have I,” Griffen said. “But someone must know something.”
“Someone always knows something,” Hawk said, putting the picture down.
He came around the side of the desk and sat in the chair Paige had vacated, propping his ankle on his knee.
“The situation with Paige and your mother is interesting, but it’s old history.
” He looked to me. “Right now, we have to focus on Cole Haywood. I just got off the phone with Emmett.”
“Did he pinpoint who’s coming for Ford?” Griffen asked.
Hawk shook his head. “Nope. But Cole has a bail hearing Monday morning.”
“I thought he was denied bail,” Griffen said. “He pled guilty and they put him in the state prison.”
“True,” Hawk said. He tapped three fingers on his knee. “But Cole knows the law, even if he’s dumb enough to act as his own attorney in this. Sometimes your legal system here is a good old boys club.”
Ha. Truer words, and all that. It shocked me not at all that Cole was getting special treatment.
“We’re aware,” Griffen said, looking at me and then to Hawk.
Hawk raised an eyebrow and met my eyes. “You would be. You’ve hit both sides of it.”
I knew what he meant. There had been times—many of them, working with my father and his cronies—when that good old boys club had been very profitable for us.
And then there were times, like me getting thrown in prison for a murder I hadn’t committed, that the good old boy network could turn on you.
Cole was plugged in deeper than any of us on the legal side of things, and thanks to his business with my father and Edgar, he had influence with the money people.
“So, he did what?” Griffen asked. “Finagled a new hearing?”
“Something like that,” Hawk said. “Emmett wasn’t clear on the specific legalities. What we know is Haywood withdrew his plea on the grounds that the first judge should have recused himself. Now there’s a new judge and a hearing tomorrow, which could result in him getting out of prison.”
“He admitted to murdering the jewelry designer who made that necklace Quinn found,” I said, “and he kidnapped Avery and tried to kill her. He can’t just make all of that go away.”
Hawk shrugged. “He can’t. But it’s possible he can talk his way into withdrawing that guilty plea and getting out of prison temporarily.”
“Did Emmett find out who the hearing was with?” Griffen asked.
Hawk thought for a second. “Judge Hemmings.”
I let out a gust of air, my gut going tight. “That’s not good.”
“Why? Who’s Hemmings?” Griffen asked.
“A friend of Edgar’s and Dad’s,” I said. “Which means he’s probably also a friend of Cole’s.”
“And if not friends,” Griffen said glumly, “I’d bet Cole knows the skeletons in his closet.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “That would be my guess.”
“Well, fuck,” Griffen said.
Hawk leaned forward. “Don’t get distracted with Haywood getting out. Haywood’s not your problem. This bounty is your problem, and he called this in while he was still in prison.”
“How the hell does Cole Haywood know how to find assassins on the dark web?” I asked, trying to merge that kind of knowledge with the suit-wearing, fastidious man that I knew.
“It seems like Haywood has his fingers in all sorts of shit he shouldn’t,” Hawk said.
“Cooper’s expecting our call. He’s already talked to Emmett this morning.
He’s trying to figure out what he can do for us, because we’re going to need a lot more manpower.
Anyone who leaves Heartstone needs a guard.
That means the brewery and the Inn, unless Tenn and Royal can work from home.
Ditto for Sweetheart Bakery. I don’t want anybody out there on their own.
Fuck, I’m not even sure we should be sending the kids to school. ”
Griffen leaned back in his chair and looked at me. “Ford’s never shown any interest in the kids, not in a way that would draw Cole’s attention.”
It was another gut punch—one I was getting used to—that I was the cause of danger to everyone in this house. I hated it, but I was glad for once about my lack of family involvement over the last year. It meant Cole and the people he’d sent to kill me would have less obvious leverage.
“And if we post guards at the school, we’ll be shining a light on them,” Hawk added.
Griffen set his phone on the desk, screen facing up, and called Cooper Sinclair, putting the call on speakerphone.
“Griffen,” Cooper answered. “You just can’t keep out of trouble up there, can you?”
“Not so far,” Griffen said. “Can you spare us some help?”
“Not as much as you need,” Cooper said, “but with the way you’ve got Heartstone wired, I think we have an opportunity. How many people can you keep in the Manor? Putting guards on anyone outside the gates is part of what makes this complicated.”
“I’ll talk to Tenn and Royal. It depends on how long this goes. I can’t lock everyone down for months.”
“Hopefully, we can get it wrapped up faster than that,” Cooper said. “Listen, you remember Silas Creed and the team he put together?”
“Of course,” Griffen said. “Silas is a fucking legend.”
“Well, Silas sold me his company.”
“What?” Hawk asked. “He can’t sell his company. You mean the team? He sold you the team?”
“Basically,” Cooper said. “We took the deal—it was too good to pass up—but the whole thing is weird.”
“Why would he do that?” Griffen said. “Is he retiring? But if it’s that, why not put Ryder or Miranda in charge?”
“All good questions,” Cooper said. “He wasn’t willing to answer them, except to say he was stepping back, and he wanted his team with someone who’d keep them together.”
Hawk was shaking his head. “That doesn’t sound like Silas. I mean, the keeping them together part—yeah. But stepping back? Silas Creed has never taken a vacation in his life.”
“I don’t know that it’s a vacation,” Cooper said. “He only promised that the team was clean of any trouble.”
“Are they?” Griffen asked.
I could almost hear Cooper’s shrug. “Clean enough. You know Silas’s team—they always did the stuff that was a little too shady for us. Took bigger risks, sketchier clients.”
“So why are you bringing them under your roof?” Hawk asked.
“Partly as a favor to Silas,” Cooper said. “I don’t necessarily believe that everything they’ve done is clean, but the opportunity to get my hands on the six of them was too good to pass up. We talked it over, and the decision was unanimous.”
“When was this?” Griffen asked.
“A week ago. I can’t say they’ve integrated with the rest of us yet.
They’re like our teams here in that everybody has a specific area of expertise.
In the long term, we think they’re best assigned together, but at the moment, we have them split up so they can work with the Sinclair teams that match their skill sets.
I can’t free up all six—some of them are out training with my people, working on bringing them into the fold—but I can send you three.
If Hawk can stretch his people to cover the family, Silas’s people can go after the assassins. ”
“Well, shit,” Griffen said. “Three of Silas’s crew is like twelve of anyone else’s.”
“They’re not that much better than my people,” Cooper said, sounding a little annoyed.
A slow grin spread across Hawk’s face. “Considering we were your people, we’re not going to argue. But Silas’s team is on a different level.”
“Yeah,” Cooper said, “you won’t be surprised to know they took to Emmett like a duck to water. Lucas too.”
“Yeah, not a surprise,” Hawk murmured. “But hell, that’s good news. When will they be here?”
“They’re leaving in an hour, so not long.”
“I feel a lot better about the idea of being murdered in my sleep,” Griffen said wryly, and I barked out a laugh, despite the darkness of the conversation.
“Side note,” Griffen said. “Because of course there’s never enough going on around here—I need you to find anything you can on a Paul Williams. Married a woman, last name McKenna. Dropped off the map in 1986.”
“I’ll get somebody on it. Who’s Paul Williams?” Cooper asked.
“Turns out he’s the father of our nanny, Paige, and possibly the man our mother ran off with,” Griffen told him.
Cooper paused, obviously taking it in. “Well, shit. That’s new information.”
“Yeah. Turns out Paige came here looking for him and ran into a dead end. But she found letters our mother wrote him before they both took off.”
“Any interesting information in there?” Cooper asked.
“Don’t know,” Griffen said. “We haven’t read them all yet.
Paige says no, but there might be something she didn’t catch.
One thing we did find out—the postcards Ford and I got for years on our birthdays?
Not the same handwriting as the letters our mother wrote Paul Williams. Close, but not the same. ”
“Interesting,” Cooper said slowly, as if turning the new information over in his mind, examining it for answers.
“We thought so,” Griffen agreed.
“I’ll see what I can find,” he said. “Meantime, keep your heads down. When the team gets there, you’ll figure out a plan.”
“That’s the idea,” Griffen said. “Talk to you later.” He cut off the call.