Chapter Thirty-One
Thorne
The FBI field office in Louisville looks more like a high school than a place where lives get dissected. Voss and I arrive fifteen minutes early. He's in his charcoal suit, burgundy tie, and carrying a pristine briefcase.
“Remember what we discussed,” he says as we walk through the parking lot. “Let me handle the talking. You remember how well it went last time you ad-libbed?"
"I remember you bitching about it for twenty minutes when we set up the meeting.”
"And I'll bitch for twenty more if you pull that shit again. If Rivera asks about Williams, you look at me. If I nod, answer briefly. If I don't, I'll redirect. Clear?"
"I know the drill."
"Do you?" He stops before we reach the entrance. "Because last time we strategized, you went completely off-script with Williams and turned a defensible legal outreach into an explicit quid pro quo."
I meet his eyes. "He needed to hear it from me."
"And now Rivera might have heard it too, depending on what surveillance they had." Voss adjusts his tie. "So today? You follow my lead. Understood?"
"Understood."
We check in at the front desk. A receptionist leads us down a hallway with industrial carpet and fluorescent lights that hum too loudly. Everything about this place is designed to make you feel small.
Agent Rivera's conference room is at the end of the hall. She's already inside, reviewing files spread across the table. Mid-forties, dark hair pulled back, expression that gives nothing away. She looks up when we enter.
"Mr. Blackstone. Mr. Voss." She gestures to the chairs across from her. "Thank you for coming in."
"Agent Rivera." Voss extends his hand. She shakes it. "My client is here voluntarily, as promised. We're happy to cooperate however we can."
"Good." She opens a file folder. "Let's start with—"
The door opens behind us.
I turn, irritated at the interruption.
Lillianna sweeps in, and I'm not even surprised. Why would my sister let something like FBI protocol stop her? She gives Rivera a look that could freeze bourbon mid-pour.
"Ms. Blackstone," Rivera says, clearly recognizing her. "No one told me you'd be part of this interview."
"I'm not the only one." Lillianna steps aside.
Madison walks through the door, chin up, looking far older than fourteen in her navy dress. Behind her—
Ivy.
Black suit. Hair pulled back. Every inch the lawyer. Professional. Polished. Untouchable.
The air leaves my lungs.
She's here. In this federal building, walking into this mess, when last night she'd locked her door against me.
Voss stands immediately. "Agent Rivera, I'm going to need a moment with my client."
Rivera's eyes move from the three women to me, assessing. "This is highly irregular."
"Five minutes." Voss's tone makes it clear it's not a request.
Rivera sighs but stands. "I'll be right outside." She leaves, closing the door behind her.
Voss turns to me. "Did you know they were coming?"
"No."
“Jesus Christ." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Do any of you Blackstones believe in strategy? Or do you just wing everything and hope money fixes it?" He shakes his head. “We need to discuss how this changes our strategy—"
"There's no strategy to change," Lillianna says. "Madison tells the truth about when she told us about Dad's crimes. Ivy provides context about the remediation efforts. You keep my brother from saying something stupid. Simple."
“That’s never been easy or simple,” Voss mutters.
I snort and mutter, “Asshole.”
Voss’s grin is quick—there and gone, then he looks at Ivy.
"Ms. West, as environmental counsel for Blackstone Bourbon, you have standing to be here.
But Madison—" He turns to my youngest sister.
"You're a minor. I need to know you understand you don't have to answer anything you're not comfortable with. "
"I understand," she replies. "But I want to help Thorne."
Six weeks ago, this kid was nothing but a complication. Now she's here, defending me to my lawyer. The FBI.
Voss studies all three of them, clearly calculating angles. Finally, he nods. "All right. But when Rivera comes back, I'm doing the talking unless she directly addresses one of you. Understood?"
We all nod, and Voss retrieves Rivera.
She takes in our expanded group, her expression shifting to mild irritation. "Well. Quite the family reunion."
"Agent Rivera, I'm Lawrence Voss, representing Mr. Blackstone.
" He hands her his card. "Ms. West is here as environmental counsel for Blackstone Bourbon.
Ms. Madison Payne has relevant testimony regarding the timeline of events.
And Ms. Lillianna Blackstone is here as a family representative and co-owner of the company. "
Rivera settles into her seat. "Fine. Let's begin." She reaches for the file in front of her. "Mr. Blackstone, you stated you only recently learned about your father's connection to the contaminated land deal. When exactly—"
“Six weeks ago," Madison says.
Rivera's pen pauses. Her attention shifts to Madison.
“When my mom and dad died, I met with my half-siblings Thorne, Lillianna, and Sebastian and told them what our father did.” Madison lifts her chin. “They had no idea until then.”
"And when was this meeting?"
Madison gives her the date.
Rivera makes a note. "Who else was present?"
“I was,” Lillianna supplies. “Sebastian and Rosalia Blackstone, and Ivy West, Madison's guardian."
Rivera flips through her notes. "So Ms. West is both guardian to Madison and environmental counsel to Blackstone Bourbon?"
"That's correct," Ivy says evenly.
"Interesting." Rivera's tone suggests she finds it more than interesting. "And how soon after this meeting did the siblings retain you as environmental counsel, Ms. West?"
"Within twenty-four hours," Ivy replies. "As soon as we understood the scope of the contamination, I was brought in to develop a remediation strategy."
"Very efficient." Rivera makes another note. "And since then, what actions have you taken?"
"We've conducted soil and water testing, engaged environmental engineers, and begun developing a comprehensive cleanup plan," Ivy says. "We're also reviewing all of Louis Blackstone's land acquisitions to identify any other potential issues."
"Proactive," Rivera says. "Though some might say you're also destroying evidence of your father's crimes."
“They’re complying with state environmental regulations," Voss interjects smoothly. "There's no legal requirement to notify federal authorities during the assessment phase, particularly when this falls under state jurisdiction."
Rivera's expression doesn't change, but I can see her recalculating. "Let's talk about Jeffrey Williams."
My pulse kicks up.
"Mr. Williams was an EPA inspector who, according to his testimony, received cash payments to overlook certain regulatory violations." Rivera looks directly at me. "He's been very cooperative. Named several other individuals involved in similar arrangements."
"That's his prerogative," Voss says. "But I'm not sure what that has to do with my client."
"I'm getting there." Rivera pulls out her notes.
"Mr. Williams has been forthcoming about most of his dealings.
Names, dates, amounts. Very detailed." She pauses.
"Except when it comes to one particular source.
Cash payments over four years. Significant amounts.
But he claims the details are 'fuzzy' given the passage of time and the cash nature of the transactions. "
She lets that hang in the air.
"Selective memory is convenient, isn't it, Mr. Blackstone?"
Voss leans forward before I can respond. "Agent Rivera, my client can't speak to Mr. Williams’s memory. If you have questions about the Blackstone family's involvement, I'm happy to address those. But speculation about another witness's testimony isn't productive."
Rivera studies me for a long moment. Then she shifts her attention to Madison. "Ms. Payne, you're certain your half-siblings had no knowledge of your father's activities before you told them?"
"Yes," Madison says firmly. “I was the one to tell them.”
"And your mother's role?"
She blinks rapidly. Her gaze slides away, then returns. “She... she knew.”
I want to reach over and squeeze her hand. Say something. But I stay still. I’m keeping my word and following Voss’s lead.
"We can provide documentation," Ivy adds, "showing when environmental counsel was retained, when remediation planning began, and the timeline of our compliance efforts. This family is taking responsibility for Louis Blackstone's actions, Agent Rivera. That should count for something."
Rivera makes more notes, her pen scratching across the paper. The sound fills the silence. She sets it down.
“Here's where we are. Jeffrey Williams is cooperating on multiple cases. Your father is deceased. The contaminated property is being remediated under state oversight.” She closes her file.
"Unless new evidence emerges suggesting the current Blackstone leadership was complicit in the original crimes, our focus will remain on Williams and the other parties he's identified.
For the record, Mr. Williams has not named the Blackstone family in connection with these payments. "
"So we're clear?" Lillianna asks.
"For now," Rivera says. "But Mr. Blackstone?" She looks at me. "Stay away from Jeffrey Williams. No more visits, no more 'legal referrals,' no contact whatsoever. Am I understood?"
"Understood," I say.
"Good." Rivera stands. "We'll be in touch if we need anything further."
Voss stands, extending his hand. "Thank you for your time, Agent Rivera."
We file out of the conference room. No one speaks until we're outside the building, standing in the parking lot under a too-bright sun that feels wrong after the fluorescent cave we left.
Voss turns to me. "That went better than I expected."
"Because of them," I say, nodding toward the three women.