Billionaire Bad Boys: The Company Ink Series

by Kira Blakely

  “I see. That’s unfortunate.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I just…stumbled across it…recently.”

  Technically, that’s not a lie and thankfully, he believes me and drops the subject. “Let’s get some refreshments, shall we?”

  ****

  The rest of the evening goes smoothly, even more smoothly than I anticipated.

  Up until disaster strikes.

  Now that I think of it, I seem to have bad luck during parties.

  This time, it’s a gastrointestinal disaster. Probably something I ate.

  As a result, I have to leave the party early and return to the lodge. Nathan stayed because he still has some things to discuss with some people. I think it’s good that I left. I feel like I’m only getting in his way.

  Thankfully, I feel better shortly after returning to the lodge. I still want to take some medicine, though, just to make sure, and so I start looking through my things.

  When I don’t find anything among my things, I look through Nathan’s things.

  Who knows? He might happen to have some medicine in his suitcase just like he happened to have my gown.

  I don’t find any, though. He probably didn’t expect anything like this to happen.

  Instead, I find an envelope.

  Another envelope.

  Are you fucking kidding me?

  Like before, I resist temptation, but ultimately give in. This time, there aren’t any hidden cameras and I’m just going to take a peek.

  Yeah, right.

  Soon, I’m reading the documents, most of them boring, but one of them catches my attention.

  Something about rhino horns.

  Shit.

  So, Pam was right then? Nathan is involved in something like this?

  No.

  Even with the document right in front of me, I refuse to believe it.

  I can’t.

  I need to find out the truth for myself.

  And thankfully, I just happen to be in Africa.

  Taking the Bull by the Horns

  I’m not an investigative journalist.

  I didn’t study journalism like Pam did. I don’t own a voice recorder. I don’t know the etiquette about interviewing someone. I don’t know the first thing about conducting an investigation.

  I do know how to ask questions, though, and thankfully, I read a few mystery books when I was younger, so I set out to do exactly that, eager and hoping to get some clarity.

  Of course, asking questions to people who neither understand nor speak English is a bit more complicated.

  I manage to find some people who can do at least a little of both, though, and eventually, my so-called investigation leads me to a village where I meet a European missionary named Therese.

  Finally, someone who can speak my language.

  “You don’t know how glad I am to see you,” I tell her.

  “So am I,” she says with a sweet smile as she ushers me inside her hut. “New friends are always welcome. Tea?”

  “No, thank you.”

  I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to risk upsetting my stomach again by trying something unfamiliar.

  Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to take offense.

  She seems very kind, in fact, which I suppose is only to be expected of a missionary.

  I can only hope she is also knowledgeable.

  “How long did you say you’ve been here again?” I ask.

  “Eight years,” she answers. “Two in this village. We travel around.”

  I nod. “That’s a long time.”

  “Other missionaries have returned home, but for me, this is my home. The people here are my family.”

  “It’s very kind of you to help care for them.”

  She shakes her head. “It is an honor to serve.”

  I pause, suddenly remembering Jack. He, too, was selfless, only intent on helping the animals.

  “You said you wanted to ask some questions.”

  “Yes.” Enough with the small talk and the reminiscing.

  Focus, Sam. You’re conducting an investigation here.

  “Have you ever heard of a company called Landers Innovations?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I’ve never heard of it. Should I have?”

  “It’s fine.” Next question. “Are you aware of rhino horns being sold around here?”

  “Of course, I am,” Therese answers. “We’re all aware of it. We can’t do anything about it, though. The poachers…there are so many of them. And some of the rangers have been paid off, too.”

  There’s a curse on the tip of my tongue, but I decide to leave it there since I’m in the presence of a missionary.

  I settle for a frown. “That’s sad.”

  “It truly is.”

  “Do you know who pays the poachers and the rangers? Who buys the horns?”

  Therese shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t. All I know is that there are many of them. They come from all over the world. They think the horns are a source of power and prestige or some sort of cure. And it’s not just the horns but the tusks, too.”

  “I know. So, there are many of them? Dozens?”

  She shrugs. “I fear that as long as there are rhinos and elephants, they will continue to come.”

  Despicable. Don’t they know that rhinos and elephants need their horns and tusks to defend themselves? To make matters worse, most of the poachers even kill the rhinos and elephants instead of just taking their horns because that’s more convenient for them.

  “And no one dares stand up against them?” I ask.

  Therese, too, frowns. “Like I said, there’s nothing we can do. But there was a group of people before who tried to stop the poachers. I think they were vets.”

  “Vets?” If I was a dog, my ears would be standing at attention.

  “Veterinarians. There were about twelve of them, I think. But sadly, they all met an unfortunate end. Some say they were cursed, but I believe they were just unlucky.”

  “Did you meet them?” I ask eagerly.

  “I did once. In a way, they were missionaries, too. And they were a lively bunch.”

  “Is this one of them?” I bring out my phone and show her the picture.

  She throws me a puzzled glance. “I think so. Is he your…?”

  “Brother,” I tell her. “His name was Jack Willis. He was a vet – part of a group of volunteers that came to Africa to treat sick and wounded wild animals.”

  “Yes. I think that’s the same group.”

  “I heard the group no longer exists. I just assumed some of them went home. But you say they all met an unfortunate end?”

  “I believe so.”

  “So, they all died of malaria?”

  “Heavens no,” Therese tells me. “Some of them did die of sickness but some of them were killed by poachers, and I think one of them was killed by a wild animal.”

  My face falls. “That’s terrible.”

  “Did your brother die of a sickness?”

  “Yes.” I nod slowly. “They sent his ashes home.”

  “Ashes?” Therese looks surprised. “I thought they sent the bodies home. The villagers rarely burn the bodies of their dead, after all, only if there’s a serious disease or if the dead person was evil. Burning is considered dishonorable.”

  I, too, am surprised. “But isn’t malaria a serious disease?”

  “Not really. It is quite common. When I said serious disease, I meant Ebola or something like that.”

  And yet, his ashes were sent home.

  “Would you know if the bodies of the others were sent home?” I ask, more puzzled than ever.

  “I’m afraid not. Maybe. Maybe they burned the bodies because they were easier to transport that way.”

  Maybe. Even so, I can’t help but feel uneasy.

  “If you want to know more about your brother, I’ll give you directions to the village where he once lived. Maybe they can tell you more about him there.” />
  “Thank you.” I place a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you very much.”

  Therese nods then draws something on a piece of paper. A map. When she is done, she hands it to me.

  “Your brother’s name was Jack Willis?”

  I nod.

  “I will pray for him.”

  “Thank you.”

  I leave the hut, looking at the map.

  Strange. I came here to find out about Nathan’s involvement with the trade of poached wildlife goods, but I find out about Jack instead.

  Jack.

  ****

  “I don’t remember their names,” the villager named Fumbe, a man in his thirties with a good enough grasp of the English language, tells me. “I only know they were cursed.”

  I sigh, recognizing a wall when I bump into one. “But they lived here?”

  He nods. “Their hut still stands at the far end of the village.”

  “It does?” Now, there’s something to go on.

  “We tried tearing it down but we could not. It seems haunted.”

  Haunted?

  “We dare not approach it. It would do you well to stay away from it, too.”

  I nod, but my mind is already made up.

  I’m not afraid of ghosts. I’m more afraid of living my life not knowing what really happened to my brother.

  As soon as Fumbe has disappeared, I make my way to the hut. Like he said, it is still standing.

  Taking a deep breath, I enter. It is dark but thankfully, I have brought a flashlight with me. I use it now to look around.

  The place isn’t so bad. Actually, it’s quite neat.

  There are pictures on the wall. I take them. Surely, no one will mind.

  I hear a noise and get startled, but it’s just a rat.

  I heave a sigh of relief. Still, I tell myself to hurry. Where there are rats, there could be snakes.

  There’s an old backpack in the corner. I take a peek inside.

  A shirt. A blood-stained shirt.

  My brother’s shirt.

  I gasp in horror.

  Some of them were killed by poachers.

  Then I see the journal just under the shirt. I open it.

  It isn’t my brother’s handwriting, but there’s a picture of my brother inside it.

  With a woman.

  His girlfriend?

  I read the last entry dated May 2014.

  Two years ago. A month before Jack’s death.

  Someone came to our hut again today. One of those bigwigs who pays the poachers. An American. Tall with brown hair. He says he’s from Landers Innovations. Never heard of it.

  I hold my breath.

  He wants us to stop getting in his way. But Jack says we won’t stop. Not even if a few others have died. He threatens us. I don’t like him. He’s scary. But Jack doesn’t back down. Finally, he leaves. I hope we never see him again. I hope he’ll leave Jack and I alone.

  For a while, I stare at the page, unable to move as I wait for the words to sink. When they do, I clasp the journal tightly to my chest, tears trickling down my cheeks.

  Nathan, what have you done?

  ****

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nathan says when I confront him in the evening. “I never met your brother.”

  I hold the journal in front of his face. “But it says here that you did.”

  His eyes narrow. “It’s a lie.”

  “And is it a lie, too, that Landers Innovations is involved in the trade of poached wildlife goods, huh?” My voice nearly croaks as I hold back my tears.

  Nathan frowns. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

  “You’re right. You shouldn’t have. Then maybe I could have lived without ever discovering that you had my brother killed.”

  It didn’t take me long to put the pieces of the story together. Nathan warned my brother and his companions to stay out of his way. They refused. He had them killed. That explained the blood-stained shirt. And the ashes? My brother’s body was probably burned to hide the evidence just like the others – the journal mentioned that someone else, Miguel, had been burned. The ashes sent back home to us were probably fake – the ashes of an animal, most likely.

  My brother was murdered.

  And Nathan was responsible.

  “You had my brother killed,” I repeat. “Just so you could keep butchering those poor rhinos and elephants and sell their horns and tusks for money. And don’t you dare deny it. The name of your company is in this journal, and I saw the documents.”

  “I see. You’ve been snooping around again.” He turns his back to me. “And here, I thought that you trust me now.”

  “I did trust you. That’s why this hurts so much.” The tears break free.

  “So, you hate me now.”

  It’s not a question but a statement.

  “How can I not? If not for you, Jack would still be alive.”

  “Fine. If that’s what you think.”

  I don’t understand. “What do you mean if that’s what I think?”

  He turns his back to me. “No matter what I say, you won’t believe me anyway, right? And for a moment there, I thought you loved me.”

  “I did–”

  “But you still think the worst of me, after all. You still think I’m despicable, don’t you?”

  What is he saying? Why am I suddenly the bad guy? Shouldn’t he be apologizing? Why is he getting mad at me?

  “You had my brother killed.”

  “If that’s true, then I’m a very dangerous man, don’t you think? Do you think it’s wise to test my temper?”

  I can’t believe what I’ve just heard. Did he just threaten me?

  “Go. Leave me alone.”

  “Nathan…”

  “Go home and leave me the hell alone!”

  I fall silent, shocked by his raised voice.

  I’ve never heard him shout at anyone before.

  Not wanting to hear it again, I obey, hurrying to pack my things. As soon as I’m done, I leave the lodge, asking someone to take me to the airport. I don’t know where else to go, and suddenly, I can’t wait to go home.

  I can’t wait to get out of Africa.

  It isn’t paradise, but hell, where innocent animals are slaughtered by the dozens everyday to fuel man’s greed and innocent people are treated no better than the animals.

  And the place where I’ve lost the two men I’ve loved most of all.

  In all my life, I’ve never felt so alone.

  I Smell a Rat

  “I wish you were here,” I say to Pam over the phone, still sniffing. “I wish I’d never come to Africa.”

  I’m at the airport lounge, waiting for the next available flight, which I’m told could still be tomorrow evening.

  I don’t mind. I just want to go home. In the meantime, though, I want to feel less alone, which is why I called my best friend.

  “Oh, I wish I was there, too, so I could give you a hug,” Pam says. “But I’ll just give you one at the airport when you come home, okay? Once you know your flight details, send them to me so I can pick you up and bring you home.”

  She’s my best friend, alright.

  “Thanks, Pam. And I’m sorry about before.”

  To think I almost lost her because of Nathan. To think I chose to believe Nathan over her.

  “Shh. It’s okay. Like I said, you weren’t thinking straight.”

  “You can say ‘I told you so’. You were right again. You were right about everything. Nathan’s company is involved in the trade of poached wildlife goods. It’s a heinous crime in my book. In fact, it’s just about as bad as the fact that he had Jack killed.”

  “He what?”

  I tell her everything. Every detail.

  “Unbelievable.”

  “It’s true, though. Didn’t your friend, Elsa, mention it?”

  “Elaine,” she corrects. “Come to think of it, I think she mentioned murder being involved.”

  “Do you th
ink you can ask her to send me what she knows?”

  “Sure. I’ll ask her right now.” I hear the clicking of a few keys.

  “Thanks, Pam. Have I ever told you you’re my best friend.”

  “Um…I think so but you can say it again just for the record.”

  I chuckle. “Well, you are.”

  “There. I’ve sent Elaine a message. I’ll send you her reply when it comes.”

  “Thanks again.”

  “By the way, I know this is probably not what you want to hear right now, but I saw Henry today, and he said you haven’t signed your contract. Are you still going to?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Now, more than ever, I don’t know. I don’t want to accept any more favors from the man responsible for my brother’s murder. On the other hand, working for the Seeker might just be my ticket away from Nathan and the perfect therapy for my broken heart.

  “Okay. Just hang in there, alright?”

  I blow my nose. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Oh, and one last thing. Did Nathan actually admit to Jack’s murder? I just can’t remember if you said he did.”

  I pause to think. “Um, I don’t think so. But it’s clear, isn’t it? Why?”

  “Nothing. You know me. I’m a nitpicker.”

  “You’re a journalist, so you have to be.”

  “It just seems like your story is based more on opinion than fact, and it’s not really objective.”

  “Are you saying I’m wrong?”

  “I’m just saying your story should be more thorough, more polished. At least, I’d say that if I was your editor.”

  “Well, thank goodness you’re not.”

  “Thank goodness. Anyway, I’m sure Elaine has the facts. Just sit tight and be careful, okay? Don’t go looking for any more trouble.”

  “I won’t,” I promise.

  “See you soon. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  I hang up and put my phone in my purse.

  Thank goodness for friends.

  Speaking of friends, it would be nice if Abby was here, too, but Nathan didn’t bring her. Probably because he didn’t want her to discover his secret, either.

  Did Nathan actually admit to Jack’s murder?

  Fine. If that’s what you think…

  I shake the cobwebs of doubt away. No. I’m not wrong. Nathan had Jack killed. If he didn’t, he would have tried to explain what was really going on. He would have given me proof he was innocent.