by Lexi Blake
Shit. He wasn’t going there. This wasn’t some revenge on his brother. This was about playing Carly more fairly than they’d played Ellie, his now sister-in-law.
“My father was an engineer. He developed a cable that helped speed up the way we used the Internet way back when it was starting out. He formed a company with a couple of savvy investors. When they had the chance to sell the tech, my father balked because he thought he could use it better than some major corporation. My dad was a bit of a dreamer.”
“The investors didn’t like that, did they?”
“No, they did not.”
Her eyes narrowed and a shrewd look came over her face. “Patricia made her initial money off tech investments. You think she had your father killed so the company could sell the product.”
“Exactly. There was a fire in our house one night when I was eight. The doors were locked and barricaded so we couldn’t get out. My oldest brother managed to break through and get us all into the backyard, where luckily a bunch of neighbors had gathered. I sometimes wonder if someone was waiting in the shadows for us. I wonder what might have happened if those neighbors hadn’t been there.”
“You don’t think the fire could have happened naturally? I’m not trying to be rude, but children often remember things differently than an adult would.”
Yes, he remembered the fire as a monster threatening to eat him alive. Sometimes he still dreamed about it, dreamed of being dragged along by Drew as he looked back and saw a gaping mouth of flames coming for him. And then it always morphed into the real monster, the one he met when he was sixteen. Real monsters were always human.
“I understand your hesitance. If you read the police reports, which I expect you’ll do, you’ll find that they believe my father murdered my mother and then turned the gun on himself, but only after setting the fire that would ensure his whole family died.”
She leaned forward, curiosity plain on her pretty face. “Why not shoot you, too?”
“Isn’t that a good question? It’s one they never really answered. They’ve never given a proper motive beyond the fact that he was probably mentally ill. And yet he passed many a background check and several psychological evaluations, one only a month before. He did some work for the government from time to time. Look, Carly, this is the truth. My father loved his family. There was nothing violent about the man, despite what the reports will say. So my real evidence for you is that three days before the fire occurred, your boss sent fifty thousand dollars to a bank account in Switzerland that we’ve managed to associate with a contract killer. His going rate at the time was two hundred thousand dollars and two other major shareholders in the company also deposited fifty grand into the account. Have you ever heard the names Stratton and Castalano?”
Her eyes went wide, proving she had. “StratCast. Patricia was an investor in the beginning. She used the money from the IPO to start Cain Corp. Steven Castalano died recently.”
Yes, that was a fact he knew quite well. “But only after he attempted to kill my brother and sister-in-law.”
She’d gone a bit pale and he refilled her glass. “This sounds serious.”
“It is.”
“Why are you coming to me?”
“Because you’re close to her. Because no one knows her the way you do.” He noticed her hands were shaking slightly and he reached out, covering them with his own. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to help, it’s all right. No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I promise you that.”
It was why he’d tossed his earpiece and made this play. He couldn’t stand the thought of this woman going through what Ellie had, not when there was no chance of the end playing out the same. No white knight was going to carry Carly Fisher away the way Riley had with Ellie.
All Bran could offer her was honesty, maybe friendship.
Maybe sex if she wanted him. Definitely sex.
But he was getting ahead of himself.
She straightened up, though he noted she didn’t move her hands. “I don’t know what I can do to help. I don’t even know that I should. What’s your plan?”
He leaned back, breaking the contact, and was surprised at how much he didn’t like that. She was warm, her hands fitting into his like they’d been made to nestle there. “I can’t tell you the plan unless you’re all in. I understand that might not happen. I’m only going to ask you not to talk to her about it if you decide to pass.”
“Why do it this way? Why come at me through some dating service?” Carly asked.
“Like I said, my brother likes to play a deep game. His plan was to date you, charm you. He would have maneuvered his way into your life, maybe managed to get a job on the set of Cain’s show and manipulated it from there.”
Her lips firmed and she frowned. “Well, you can tell him it wouldn’t have worked. I was planning on telling this Drew guy that I’d changed my mind.”
Wasn’t that interesting? “You didn’t find him attractive?”
“No. I found him too attractive. It’s ridiculous that he would be matched with me. I knew something was up the minute I saw his picture, but I thought it would be less rude if I explained in person that I was no longer interested in dating.”
“Are you? Is it only Drew you object to or is it all men?”
She suddenly seemed to find her glass infinitely interesting. “It was a mistake for me to sign up for the matchmaking service in the first place. I only did it because my sister pushed me. I’m not ready to date. I might never be. My first marriage was pretty rough.”
It was time to come back around to something she’d said in the beginning. He might be able to help her out, too. That would be so much better. Quid pro quo. He liked to have the scales balanced. “It sounds like he’s still causing you trouble. Who’s DiLuca?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does if I can help. We might be able to help each other.”
“What are you looking for? I seriously doubt she’s got a journal detailing her plots and evil plans hidden somewhere. She’s careful. I’m not sure what I can do for you.”
This part was murky. He wished he could explain exactly what he needed, but they weren’t entirely sure how the information had been kept. “She had something on Castalano, some kind of proof of what happened. All three of them did from what I can tell. Mutually assured destruction in case one of the others tried to flip on them.”
Carly nodded. “That sounds like Patricia. She hoards information. She always says information is better than gold because gold won’t buy everything. Information is leverage in her world. She keeps files on everyone. Including me.”
“I want to look at those files, Carly.”
“She keeps them private. I don’t have access to them. They’re not even here. She keeps them in LA.”
“And you’ll be going there in a few weeks.”
She grimaced as though thinking about something unpleasant. “Yes, we’ve got a big fund-raiser and naturally it’s all being filmed. But I’ll have to be beside her when we’re in LA.”
“That fund-raiser is at her house, right?”
“Of course,” she affirmed with a huff. “She has to show off how beautiful it is. But if you’re thinking I can slip up to her office, you’re high. She keeps me at her side all night because she can’t remember names. I won’t be out of her sight.”
He had a plan for that. Or rather Drew had one. He’d simply substituted himself in. “But your boyfriend would likely go unnoticed. Especially if you got him a job in security. Or if you could convince her to hire a more friendly security firm. She likes to fire people. We could, perhaps, arrange it so her current firm is no longer useful to her and point her to one my brother-in-law works for.”
“Somehow I don’t think she’ll go for that.”
“I think she will when she
realizes what a great story it could be. Have you heard of the film Love After Death?”
She rolled her eyes. “Who hasn’t? And before you tell me it’s crap, you should know I’ve seen it five times and it’s awesome.”
Touchy thing. “Do you know the story behind it?”
“I know the woman who wrote the book married a man who worked for a security firm and she got a lot of inspiration from them. I read an article about it. Mc-something.”
“McKay-Taggart. My brother-in-law is Case Taggart. He’s a former Navy SEAL, decorated for valor in combat. Imagine a real-life hero heading Patricia Cain’s security. Imagine what we could do with all that access.” It had been the plan all along. They intended to use the McKay-Taggart cache to tempt Cain into giving them access. Once they were in, the McKay-Taggart boys would do the job and do it well, and Drew would do his, too.
“That could work,” Carly agreed. “She’s always looking for publicity. So you’re looking for some file that proves she hired an assassin to kill your parents.”
“Yes. And beyond that, we’re looking to find out who the fourth conspirator was. We don’t know his name. He’s remained hidden for the last twenty years.”
“How do you know it’s a he?”
He didn’t. “It could be a woman, but men tend to be more vicious when it comes to money.”
There was that cute snort again. “Spending time with Patricia will disabuse you of that notion. I don’t know. I’m going to need to think about this.”
At least she wasn’t kicking him to the curb. “Think about it. Do some research. Now tell me about DiLuca and how I can help you.”
“You can’t and I don’t even need it.”
He sat silently, watching her because he’d already made his demand. He didn’t need to make it a second time.
Sure enough, Carly squirmed under the silence. “Fine. He was someone my husband owed money to. Owes money to. You would think after he went to jail, he would stop gambling.”
He wasn’t so sure about that. From the files he’d read on her husband, Roger Fisher had been the kind of man who could rack up some serious debt. “Why don’t you let me check into it? I can prove to be helpful to you, Carly.”
“And if I decide not to play the spy for you?”
His brother would gleefully murder him and Bran wouldn’t have to worry about the problem anymore. “I would still help you.”
He was a sucker for a damsel in distress.
“All right. His name is Tommy DiLuca and he’s been sending me nasty e-mails threatening me if I don’t pay Roger’s debt. He started texting me, too. I have no idea how he got my number.”
He could easily find out everything about Tommy DiLuca in a matter of moments, but he would slow play this, allow her to think it took him days. “I’ll see what I can find out. And you should get back out there. In the dating pool, I mean.”
A single brow rose above her left eye. “Really? This happens and you think I should try again.”
She was so cute when she was pissed. “I think you should never stop trying. You’re a beautiful woman and someday you’ll find a man who deserves you.”
It wouldn’t be him, but he might be able to make her happy for a while.
“You think you know me that well? Maybe I deserve to be alone.”
“No, not you. Tell me something. I’ve been thinking about it for days. Why did you stay on with Patricia Cain? Did she threaten you after your husband’s arrest?”
She stared at him for a moment. “How did you know that?”
“I’m good at what I do.” Which was reading the reports he got from Drew and Case. And maybe reading between the lines a little.
There was a moment of silence as she obviously contemplated whether or not to talk. “She needed to have her image rehabbed after a magazine did a hatchet job on some of her business practices.”
“No, hatchet job implies that the article is bent one way or another. I assure you everything in that article was true. I know because I did the research myself. I’m the one who handed the reporter that story.” He and his brothers were always looking for ways to fuck with the men and woman who had killed their parents. Patricia Cain had made it easy and he’d been able to hurt her without a hint of his name getting out.
Now he wondered if he’d hurt Carly as well. He would do it again. Patricia Cain really had been abusing those workers. It seemed like no matter what he did, the woman in front of him was collateral damage. He needed to figure out a way to minimize the pain.
“She came after my sister,” Carly explained, her voice quiet.
She had a younger sibling who was in college. Bran understood the need to protect and be protected. “How could she do that?”
“Because my husband used her in his schemes. She was very naive and let him put some of the money in her name.”
An excellent way to hide something he didn’t want found. Unfortunately for Carly, Cain was smart. She likely saw an opportunity and took it. He’d seen the interview where Carly had tearfully told the nation about how kind her boss was, how supportive. That interview had gone a long way to repairing Cain’s image. It had been a good play. This was what kept happening. He and his brothers would make a move and Cain would counter. It was time to end the game, time for checkmate.
“How much longer do you have to work for her?”
“At least two years, though I’m not entirely sure she won’t have something else planned for me by then. Somehow I can’t see her letting me walk. She uses people until they are utterly hollow and then she throws the shell away. I’m still useful to her.”
“Not if she’s in jail, you’re not.” He needed to make his plea as appealing as possible. “If you don’t do it for justice, do it to get your sentence reduced. She’s got you in prison. I can break you out.”
“Not without my help you can’t.”
This was a woman who needed to be needed. She was probably invisible most of the time. The key to winning her over was to show her that he saw her. Which he did. He saw her beauty and her resilience, even if she did not. “You are the missing piece, Carly. We’ve been trying to take her down for years, but we can’t do it without you. You’re necessary, which is why I pray you’ll think about becoming our partner in this.”
The waitress chose that moment to return, bearing a tray full of what smelled like heaven. She set the plate in front of him and he breathed it in. It was a beautiful day and he was sitting with a gorgeous woman about to eat something delicious. It was a win. He didn’t sweat the stuff to come. It would come whether he enjoyed this moment or not. He’d learned that long ago.
“For now, sit and talk with me and let’s enjoy the afternoon. No more talk about the mission until you make your decision. Tell me about yourself.”
She picked up her fork. “I don’t know that there’s much to tell.”
“Oh, I think we can find something to talk about.” He winked her way and proceeded to enjoy the day.
Carly Fisher would come around. She would say yes. He just knew it.
Chapter Two
Tell me you told her you were me.” Drew’s eyes were narrowed, his voice a low growl as Bran walked in the door two hours later.
He’d been a bit surprised that no one had been waiting for him in the lot where he’d parked his truck. He’d driven forty minutes from St. Augustine to the Palm Coast condo they were based at in complete silence, his mind working around the problem of Carly Fisher.
It was going to be difficult to keep his hands off her. She was too soft, too damaged. He liked that in a woman. It brought up his every instinct to cuddle her.
To fix her. Like he hadn’t been able to fix Mandy.
He shoved that thought aside because while they’d left him behind before, it looked like Drew was ready, willing, and able to throw down now.
; “I told her who I am. She doesn’t need to be lied to. She needs to be one of the team.”
Drew’s head fell back with a sheer groan of frustration. “One of the team? Are you fucking kidding me? I thought you were one of the team.”
“I am. I’m the last one with a conscience.”
“You’re the last one without a brain cell,” Hatch said, stalking out of the kitchen, his face a nice shade of red. “What the hell were you thinking? Do you have any idea what you did?”
Staying calm was the key here. He had anger issues, but he was going to prove he didn’t have to punch someone. He could be calm and rational. “I saved us a whole lot of time. She hates her boss. Everything’s going to be fine. I’m going to solve a problem for her and she’s going to help us.”
“What kind of problem?” Drew asked.
“Apparently her ex-husband is in debt to some bad dudes. Probably the mafia.”
Drew’s eyes flared. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll handle it.”
“What the hell do you know about handling the mob?” Hatch was on his game today. His pitch had reached the right spot where it threatened to make Bran’s brain bleed. He was in full-on pissed-off-dad mode, like he’d caught his teenage son sneaking in after curfew.
Or playing around with the mob.
“It might not be the mob. It might be some sad sack bookie who wants some cash and thinks he can intimidate the ex-wife of a client into giving it to him. I don’t know. I have to look into it.” He strode past the dining area and turned into the kitchen. The condo was one large open space with a bank of windows giving a spectacular view of the Atlantic.
Well, it would if Drew ever opened the blinds.
Drew took a deep breath and placed both hands palms down on the bar overlooking the kitchen, as though he needed them there so he didn’t use them improperly. His brother had some anger issues of his own. “Tell me why.”
He’d thought a lot about this on the drive back. “She doesn’t deserve to be used.”
