Chapter Fifteen #3
Finn’s brow furrowed as he eyed his mother and opened it, expecting some sort of new lawsuit. Finn scanned through the first few print outs and felt his jaw drop.
Not a lawsuit.
Finn could barely comprehend what he was reading.
“I had my suspicions a while ago,” she added, annoyed. “Too gung-ho, too garish. Nothing they said checked out. And then they drove off in that Bentley, and I saw it was a rental. So tacky.”
“Mom, how did you…”
“You constantly underestimate me, Finn.”
“How did you know? Seriously.”
“I pay attention.”
Inside the file were documents, hundreds of them, indicating that Holly and her lovely parents were using her Giraffe Girls LLC for something much more insidious than viral purses.
Giraffe Girls LLC was a subsidiary of the Carlisle Giraffe Mission. There were suspicious travel routes through Uganda, fake conservation permits, shipment logs. Times and dates of transfer.
And then missing giraffes. Reports from dozens of wildlife organizations that giraffes on reserves all over Uganda were going missing. And never reappearing.
A memory was flickering of Holly telling him at dinner that poaching routes were easy to find if you knew where to look. He hadn’t realized she knew from personal experience.
“She’s a giraffe poacher, Finn.”
“Processing…” was all he said back.
“Your father always said to steer clear of George Carlisle. He must have known something. Always said George was a snake.”
“Well, it would run in the family then… how did I not see this? There were signs all along.”
“Yes, I know, but you are quite busy running the biggest tech company on the planet and chasing the driver’s daughter around.”
“Mum…”
“I’m only teasing. Honestly, it was hard to figure out what they were up to. It’s not as if ‘giraffe poachers’ was on my list of potential crimes. Though, that’s not all they’ve been up to.” Clara sat down for a moment. “Holly scammed her way into law school too.”
“How?”
“Page fifty-seven,” she said. “LSAT proxy. She didn’t even sit for it.”
Everything was making sense now.
“And… what are you doing about this?”
“Joe Bloomberg at our offices works with the SEC and the feds on white collar investigations.” She swatted at a mosquito, unbothered.
“I told them a few weeks ago I suspected something. Joe’s the one who figured out she paid someone to take the test for her.
However, I thought you should be the one to tell Miss Carlisle that you know and that her blackmail on you means nothing. ”
“How did you know she was blackmailing me?” Finn asked, eyes wide, looking at his mother as if she’d grown a tail.
“Finn, do I look stupid? I must look stupid since you’re asking me that question,” she replied dryly.
“How do I tell her?” Finn asked, feeling the weight of the world lifting off his shoulders. “If I call, we run the risk—”
“No need. She’s in the living room…”
“The bloody living room?! Right now?!”
“The very one.”
Finn just stared at the file, then looked back at his mother.
“How?!”
“I told her I wanted to discuss something very important with her. Family business. Said it was a rite of passage for a future Woodhouse Wife. I may have also mentioned the family jeweler would be in town. She jumped on a plane immediately. Couldn’t wait to get her grubby paws on a diamond.”
“Mum, you’re… crafty.”
“Why, thank you. I am so often noted for other things, like my parties. It’s nice to be noted for who I truly am.”
Finn laughed and kissed her on the cheek.
“I’ll be back,” he said, file in hand.
“Oh, and don’t forget to tell Flora I said hello and not to stay too long in Madagascar because it’s quite dangerous there!”
“Mada—Madagascar?!” Finn shouted, turning on his heel and sticking his head back out onto the porch. “I thought she was in Paris!”
“She was. She’s now in Madagascar, filming some weirdo nature documentary on lemurs or something, I don’t know!
Fairchild told me. Had to pull it out of him.
I’m not much for lemurs but I do prefer Flora for you to any other girl.
Flora Woodhouse sounds very nice, though I’m not sure she’s the kind to change her last name.
Go make her a Mrs. Woodhouse if you can.
I want her and Jane as my daughters-in-law.
I’m sick of all this drama and testosterone!
And make sure you’re back in time for Roman’s wedding! You’re the best man, don’t forget!”
Finn disappeared.
Clara pulled out her phone now and dialed a number.
“Hello, is this Ferris with The New York Times? I believe I have a story for you.”
Inside, Holly stared coldly at Finn across the glass table in their living room. Finn was smiling, a real smile, for the first time in weeks.
“Jig’s up,” he announced, nearly giggling. “You can run to the press all you want, but the song remains the same. You and your family are going down, and no one will believe anything you say. Much less Tyson Brooks.”
“I’ve still got pictures of your little Flora and the recording from Roman. You wouldn’t want your precious little flower girl hurt, would you? You wouldn’t want her as headline news.”
“Flora is going to be headline news anyway, so it doesn’t matter now.”
“Really?” Holly asked petulantly. “How so? You really think she’ll take you back after what you did to her? Become your girlfriend? Is that your headline news story?”
“No,” Finn said, shaking his head. “If she takes me back, I plan to keep us away from the world. Away from people like you. But no. Flora will be in the headlines for other things. I have a distinct feeling.”
“Interesting. I still have the photos though. And if she is going to make headlines, then maybe she doesn’t want to be known for being your summer fling.”
“I mean, no one will believe that she was a fling when we’re married. I guess if you insist on releasing them, we can keep going down the rabbit hole.”
Finn leaned back in his seat, smiling still.
“Oh sure. I’m so afraid…”
Finn cleared his throat. “There’s a strange LLC called Carlisle Giraffe Mission… really curious about that. Especially since it seems to be receiving shipments labeled as ‘conservation equipment’ from Uganda—from the same regions that have reported missing giraffes over the last eighteen months.”
Holly’s jaw tightened.
For the first time, she didn’t interrupt.
“Oh, and your lovely company, Giraffe Girls LLC, is the subsidiary of Carlisle Giraffe Mission,” he continued, pleasantly. “Funny how the proceeds route through the same accounts tied to those shipments. Bags, conservation, charity. A very efficient system.”
Finn sighed and shook his head.
“And none of your poor buyers know they’re actually supporting a giraffe poaching operation.”
Finn grinned.
“You heartless, heartless girl.”
Holly rolled her eyes. He was using her own line against her.
“I believe giraffe poaching is quite against international law,” he added lightly. “But I’d be more afraid of PETA, if I were you.”
Holly cleared her throat. Her jaw was clenched, but she was smiling. “Alright,” she said, one eyebrow raised, “you win this round, Finn.”
“This round?” he asked. “No, we leave here with a deal.”
“What sort?”
“Most of this will be released to the press either way. Your dad has scammed so many innocent people out of money that I can’t let him continue to do so. That part is non-negotiable.”
Holly’s expression was unreadable now.
“What is negotiable is how much of you goes with it.”
She didn’t reply.
“I need to know—full stop—that even if you go public, no one believes you. Not Tyson, not the press, not the Woodhouse shareholders.”
Finn turned the file to her so she could see what page he was on.
“Here’s the deal. In return for you destroying Roman’s recording, the photos, and the file from the PI, we won’t tell Harvard that you cheated on the LSAT.”
He pointed to the bottom of the page.
“That way, you can become an attorney and make something of yourself. Of course, if I ever find out that you’re poaching more animals, I’ll make a, shall we say, unfriendly reappearance.”
He eyed her bag. Giraffe-patterned.
“Either way, I would recommend changing your last name. And not to Woodhouse.”
Holly let out a short laugh.
“You’re quite good at this.”
“Do we have a deal, Miss Carlisle?”
“Call me Miss Brown.”