Chapter 28
Sean
Four hours of sleep wasn’t nearly enough. Pod in the coffee machine, I stifle a yawn. When the hissing stops, I set the steaming mug beside Lilly and study her laptop.
What is she up to?
“Those aren’t Rehabo’s,” I say.
“Correct.” Scowling at the spreadsheet, she rubs the back of her neck. “I gave up on them last night. Liam, too. Now I’m taking a stab at your father’s accounts.”
As my fingers massage the knots from her tense shoulders, she leans back, closes her eyes, and moans. “Feels sooo good.”
Of course, my cock twitches. Down, boy. Work now. Play later.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Sitting up straighter, she sips her coffee, then mouses over the bottom line. “None of his clients make more than a three percent profit, despite a huge rise in the market.”
“See?” Clever fingers fly over the keyboard, opening page after page of property renovation costs. “He inflated these numbers.”
“He shelled out millions.” Heart racing, my brain catches up. “Including yours and Grams’s apartments, but he hasn’t spent a dime.”
“I know.” The excitement in her tone is contagious. “I’ll bet if we check the rest of his real estate holdings, we’ll find the same.”
“Holy crap.” As the implications sink in, I drop into a chair. “He’s embezzling.”
“Definitely appears to be.” Her hazel eyes soften on me.
If it’s true, he’s going to jail. “How long?” I ask.
“Can’t tell from this report.” She scrolls farther down the columns of names. “However, I do recognize some of these investors. Believe me, if any one of them discovers he’s siphoning off their cash, they’ll kill him… and that’s if they’re feeling generous.”
Lillian pokes around some more, changing the display again. “I bet he needed cash to invest in Parkhaven and thought he could return the money before anyone found out.”
“But now… with all the stakeholders pulling out, he’s fucked.” I should feel sorry for the man. After all, he is my father.
I don’t.
Swallowing back the acid of my revulsion, I scoot my chair until our thighs connect. “What are those?”
A childlike grin breaks out on her face. “Breadcrumbs… for us to follow.”
“As I recall, the birds ate them.”
She smirks. “No worries. Hansel smartened up. These are more like pebbles.”
“There’s no witch in our story, but if we screw up, we will be cooked.” Yawning, I stand. “More coffee?”
“No. Already got the jitters.” Eyes on the screen, Lillian hyper-focuses, lost in her work. A few hours later, she rises, stretches her lithe body, and groans. “I give up.”
Leaning her breasts against my back, she nibbles my ear. “I need a shower. Want to join me?”
Hell, yeah! As I shut down my laptop, Dante pounds on the cottage door.
“Hey, you two. Hate to interrupt, but Ruthanne and Rebecca left the safe house. Any idea where they’d go?”
Lil jumps up, opens the door, and juts out her chin. “Why didn’t anyone stop them?”
“They aren’t prisoners.” Eyeing her open laptop, my friend removes his cap, then steps inside.
No doubt noticing the lines under his eyes, Lil makes coffee. “What reason did they give? What happened?”
“His Grams had a vision.” Dante opens the fridge, drinks orange juice from the carton, then tosses the empty in the trash. For a heartbeat, I think he’s kidding.
The ensuing silence tells me he’s not.
“Oh, for chrissake. Perhaps my father’s correct. Grams is losing it.” Taking a deep breath, I count to ten, forcing myself to listen. “I assume you followed them.”
“Yeah. Lost them in the subway system. But not to worry. We’re using facial and body recognition. It’s almost impossible to disappear in the Big Apple.”
Despite considerable effort to remain calm, my fists clench. “Except underground. There are plenty of ancient, unmapped tunnels and Grams knows them all.”
“Not to mention, Rebecca has a drawer full of fake identities.” Face flushed, Lillian forces my fingers to uncurl, then slips her hand into mine. “We spent much of our lives hiding from my father. It won’t be easy to find them.”
“If what you’re saying is true, no one else can, either.” Dante makes a good point, but do we dare take that chance?
“We need to get back to the States.” Already in the bedroom, I toss my clothes into the suitcase as Dante picks up his phone.
“I can have my private jet in Ireland within twenty-four hours.”
A few seconds later, Lil joins us. “There’s a flight leaving Dublin this afternoon with two first-class seats available. I’m booking them. We’ll make it to Newark by ten.”
Dante sighs. “What about your father?”
“Ghosted us.” Frowning, she unzips her bag on the bed.
Shit. Back to square one.