Chapter Fifteen
The employee bungalows, located a kilometer’s walk out of sight of the hotel, reminded Michaela of military base housing: no frills, tiny cookie-cutter boxes packed in tight. However, the roofs looked newish, and the cabins had been painted recently. Livable, but not up to paying-guest standards.
Ruyn shot images with his data tab.
A uniformed employee emerged from a bungalow. “May I help you?” she asked. “This is the employee housing area. Are you lost?”
Michaela glanced at Ruyn. “Exploring. We’ve been admiring how well-kept the property is. Everything is so nice and updated.”
“Well, they work at it,” she said.
“The units look like they’ve been redone,” Ruyn said.
“Painted two months ago. And a year ago before that.”
“They painted twice in a year? Did it need it?” Michaela asked.
The employee shrugged. “They’re always fixing or constructing or redecorating. When they finish a project, they start all over again.”
“How long have you worked here?” Ruyn asked.
“Ten years next month.”
“What kind of renovations have been occurring?”
“Guest suites getting redecorated. They go floor by floor and then start over again. Pool cabanas are replaced every season, and—oh! The new wing on the convention center? They demolished the old wing then rebuilt it.”
“Was it structurally unsound?” Ruyn asked.
“Not that I heard. It was booked solid right up until they tore it down. It’s nice for guests to have everything current.”
“Have they always renovated often?”
She shook her head. “They had just finished a reno when I started ten years ago. Then, other than touch-ups, they didn’t do anything for years. Maybe two years ago, the ongoing projects started in earnest. They’re always redoing something now.
“I hope you haven’t been inconvenienced,” she added quickly. “We try to minimize the disruption to our guests.”
“Our stay has been very pleasant,” Michaela said. With the exception of almost dying from mislabeled food.
“Thank you for your time.” Ruyn smiled and took her arm, and they strolled back toward the main property. With a wave, the employee hurried past them, obviously on her way to work.
“Starlight is a five-star luxury hotel with high standards,” he said. “Everything is nice. Work is being done. But I don’t see a billion credits worth of nice.”
“No.”
“The pool area redo cost over half a mil. The nonexistent guest bungalows renos cost a half-billion credits. All they did was repaint. Projects are being redone over and over like they’re spending money to spend money.”
“I see three possible explanations,” Ruyn said. “The best-case scenario is that excessive costs are a simple case of price-gouging—the contractor is overbilling. But for that to occur, the general manager would have to be so stupid, he couldn’t find his ass with both hands.”
“That doesn’t seem likely,” she said.
“Which leads to the second possibility—embezzlement. The general manager or the head of finance is skimming, submitting inflated charges to corporate and pocketing the difference.”
“Neither of those scenarios would explain why renovation has become a perpetual project,” she said.
“No, they don’t.” He pressed his lips together grimly. “But the other possibility does. I hope I’m wrong. I really, really hope I’m wrong…”
“Money laundering,” she said it for him.
He looked at her. “You thought of that, too?”
“Yeah.”
He sighed. “Korsan Enterprises owns shares in its subsidiaries. It has a financial stake in the success of the businesses. I want there to be another explanation, but it appears the subsidiaries are being used to move money.”
Money laundering mixed “dirty” money with legitimate funds to conceal the origin of the illegally gotten gains.
With inflated invoices, a perpetrator could deposit more credits than he’d earned legally, thus mixing dirty money with clean, so authorities couldn’t tell which was which and trace it back to the criminal.
“The contractor and the general manager must be crooked,” Michaela said.
“The GM may be involved, but he’s not the mastermind. It goes higher up.” His grim expression deepened.
Korsan. He didn’t need to say it.
* * * *
Michaela nibbled on her Lunar Lunch, a vegetable-and-fruit medley deemed edible for humans. She’d chosen it after the waiter informed her it was vegan. Food allergies were almost always caused by proteins, so she thought it prudent to avoid meat, fish, and eggs.
Even in plant allergies like peanuts or wheat, proteins were the culprits, the allergens being the proteins in the plant, not the plant itself. So, she wasn’t home free by eating vegan, but it was her best bet at this point.
Although the hotel vouched for its Lunar Lunch, they had been deadly wrong before, so she ate a nibble at a time and waited before taking another bite.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Not getting itchy?”
“So far so good.” She sighed. “I still find it hard to believe Korsan is laundering money. You know him far better than I do, but he seems so nice, so concerned, so caring. He gave you a job. He hired a bodyguard after you were attacked. I don’t want it to be him.
” She bit into a sweet-savory fried vegetable, reminding her of a yam.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to leap to the worst-case scenario. ”
“I wish there was another scenario. But there aren’t enough people positioned high enough in the company to do something like this. At an individual site? Yes. At multiple sites across multiple subsidiaries?” He shook his head.
“How are you going to handle it?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I’ll confront him. Present him with the proof and demand he stop.”
“Do you think the subsidiaries are aware of what’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Some, maybe. But if you’re breaking the law, the fewer people who know, the better.”
What if GAL Friday was involved? On principle, she hated that an employer she respected might be involved in illegal activity.
It violated her moral code, but she also had to worry about guilt by association.
Who would hire an investigator who’d worked for a company that laundered money for criminals?
This assignment was supposed to be a simple bodyguard/investigation gig. Had she known then what she knew now…
I would have taken the job because of what I know.
She studied Ruyn’s concerned face, and she ached for his gut-wrenching situation.
If one of her brothers had gotten involved in criminal activity, she would be devastated.
It would tear her apart. The natural inclination was to close ranks and protect one’s family.
But how could you stand up for them in good conscience if they’d done something terrible?
I’m sorry, Ruyn.
At least Korsan isn’t a terrorist. He hasn’t killed anyone.
That we know of.
She didn’t believe Korsan would resort to violence, but the remote possibility planted itself in her brain, and she couldn’t shake it loose. Appetite gone, she pushed her plate away. “I should go with you when you talk to him.”
He shook his head. “It’s better if I do it alone. He’ll be more apt to come clean if it’s just me.”
“What if…what if…he’s dangerous?”
“I may not know him as well as I thought, but I’m 100 percent sure he’s not violent—and certainly not toward me.
No matter what he’s done, I love him, and he loves me.
He won’t appreciate the accusations and interference, but he would never hurt me.
” His gaze sharpened, and she could see his sense of betrayal turn to anger—and redirect.
“I’m shocked you would say such a thing! ”
“I’m sorry—”
“Sorry nothing. You don’t know Korsan like I do!”
“No, I don’t, but I’m only thinking of you,” she said.
“Well, you don’t need to. Let me handle this in my own way.”
She raised her hands in surrender and let the matter drop. She’d lost her appetite, but she pulled her plate closer and picked at her food while trying to ignore the tension.
There would be no convincing him in his current emotional state, and she empathized with his situation, again thinking about her own brothers.
It would take irrefutable evidence to convince her that any of her siblings were criminals.
And she’d never believe any of them would be capable of hurting her—no matter what anyone said.
So, she wouldn’t react much differently. I shouldn’t have said anything.
Intellectually, he suspected his brother had gotten into trouble, but full acceptance hadn’t come yet. Denial still ran deep and strong. He would hang onto any excuse to exonerate him.
Did she truly believe Korsan might harm Ruyn? No. First, he’d be stupid to try. Even recovering from an injury, Ruyn could kick Korsan’s ass. Besides, Korsan didn’t strike her as the violent type. That wasn’t his temperament. Financial malfeasance and physical assault were different crimes.
Then again, they’d never figured him as a money launderer either. Who could say what he was capable of? They had to stay on their toes and avoid assumptions and unnecessary risks.
Still, she’d bungled this. “I’m sorry,” she repeated her apology.
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You’re only trying to protect me. It looks bad, and Korsan is no paragon, but he’s not a thug or a killer.” He reached across the table. She met him halfway, and they clasped hands.
“Are you finished eating?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m still a little wary. I won’t feel comfortable eating again until we’re back on Luturna.” She thought of Mama Murta’s Café. Intrusive matchmaking seemed like a small price to pay for a delicious, safe meal.
“As I recall, I promised you a working vacation. We’ve done the work part, so why don’t we do something fun this afternoon?” he suggested.
“Like what?”
“We could visit the botanical garden or hang out by the pool in a half-million-credit cabana.” His mouth quirked.
She smiled. “We have time. Why don’t we do both?”
* * * *