“It’s the best chance we have of finding the guy. We can get your money back.”
“I need you to give me some space for a few days.”
That pulls me up short. “Give you space? We’re just about to bust this guy.”
“There’s something worse than blackmail going on, but I’m not going to be able to find out what it is if you’re always hanging around me.”
“Out of control gambling debts and porn films aren’t bad enough?”
Silver-blue eyes meet mine, and she’s determined. “I’ll send the payment tonight. That’ll get you what you need. I need you to give me what I need. Will you do that for me?”
My jaw grinds, and I’m ready to fight. “Space?”
“Please.”
Standing straighter, I rise to my full height. “I don’t like this. You’re not strong enough to handle these guys.”
“And you’re not always right.”
My body is tense. “I’m not leaving the city.”
“As long as you keep your distance.” Blinking towards the ballroom, she nods. “If I’m right and they’re watching me, I need to send a strong signal that we’ve parted ways. For good.”
Everything in me says this is a bad idea. I’m tense, ready to argue, but she looks up at me again, pleading.
My shoulders drop, and I take a beat. “How are you going to make it look like we’re not working together?”
“I’m sick of you following me around!” She begins to shout. “I don’t care what my uncle said. If you won’t leave me alone, I’ll report you to the police!”
I guess I have my answer.
It’s a damn convincing display of anger, and as much as I hate it, I follow her lead. “You’ll do as I say, or–”
Smack! She cuts off my reply with a stinging slap across my face.
I’m stunned by the force of her blow, and rage explodes in my chest. Grabbing her upper arms, I give her a shake. “Don’t ever hit me again.”
Our eyes meet, and while her mouth is set in defiance, her eyes glitter with confidence. I release her with a little shove, then I step in close, speaking under my breath.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
Her response is equally low. “Don’t believe everything you see.”
Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she spins on her heel and storms away, leaving me on the balcony. She doesn’t make it to the oversized French doors before two girls scurry out, huddling at her side.
“Blake! What happened? Are you okay?” The darker one holds her chest, worried eyes flitting from her to me. “Isn’t he that private investigator?”
“Natasha, it’s nothing.” Blake takes her arm, raising her voice again. “Some people don't know when their services are no longer necessary.”
The little one beside them, holds her dress, looking panicked. “I can call security if you want?”
It’s my cue, and I take it. Striding towards them forcefully, I pause before passing. “That’s the last time I stick my neck out for you.”
“Fine!” she shoots back, and it takes all my willpower to keep walking.
This feels like a mistake, but I’ll give her what she needs–for forty-eight hours.
“There’s one intelligent person for every five or six in these groups.” My brother talks absently as the noise of his fingers tapping the keys fills the background. “It’s why criminals always get caught. This guy is not the leader–he’s one of the weak links.”
“We need to find the leader.”
My chest is tight, as I wait on the line for my brother to work his magic. He verified she made the payment late last night. Now he’s waiting for it to move.
I feel like I’ve betrayed my promise to Hugh. Blake is out there doing who knows what, and I’m allowing it. “Keep an eye on her, Dirk. Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“From what you’ve told me, it sounds like Trip might be the skeleton key to all this. Why don’t you try and find out what he knows while you’re waiting?”
“It’ll at least give me something to do. I’ll catch up with him tonight. For now, I want to see what Dad knows.” Glancing at my watch, it’s after noon. “He’s always easier to talk to after his two-martini lunch.”
“Keep me posted.”
My father’s office has a view of the Statue of Liberty. When I was younger, I thought he must have the best job ever to have such a view. As I got older, I learned more about what he did as a day trader, the lies, the women, the alcohol, and the drugs, and my opinion changed.
“All these NFTs.” I watch Hoyt Winston slide his finger across the screen of his computer. “I can’t decide if investors are dumber now or if they simply have so much money, they don’t care what they do with it.”
“Isn’t that the majority of your client base?” My arms are crossed, and I’m looking out his window at the ferry miles below headed out to Staten Island.
“Competition is at an all-time high.” He grumbles like he doesn’t love his work. “It’s the eighties all over again. Greed is good.”
Blake is on my mind, and I’m anxious to wrap this up and check in with my brother, be sure she’s okay. “What do you know about Victor Petrova?”
Turning to face him, I see his brow is furrowed as if he’s trying to remember. “Hell, I haven't heard that name in a while. He was a regular Bernie Madoff. Last I heard, he got what was coming to him.”
“You think he’s dead?”
“He’s been gone so long without a word, I think we’ve all come to the same conclusion. He cheated the wrong person and got nailed for it.” Leaning back in his chair, he surveys me. “Why do you ask?”
“Doing some work for a client. He embezzled money from their estate.”
Dad nods, studying me. He doesn’t remark, rather he looks down at his computer, exhaling a laugh. “I never dreamed I’d have a son like you.”
He’s slim and fair, more like Dirk than me, and I’m not sure how to take his judgment. “I guess we don’t always get what we want.”
“Are you getting what you want?” His eyes are on me, and I meet his hazel gaze.
“I’m on the right track. How about you?”
“I don’t know.” He rises out of his chair, rounding his desk and leaning on the edge. “Still searching for that magic pill, I guess. Lord knows I’ve made enough money to buy it.”
“Good luck with that.” I don’t shake his hand. I’m not even sure why I came here. I could verify Victor’s status without his help. “See you later, Dad.”
Descending in the elevator, something Hugh told me crosses my mind, Money doesn’t buy happiness. It only reveals your true character.
I’d add the way a person makes his or her money is another indicator–if anyone’s paying attention.
I’m paying attention, and I quickly text my brother. Headed out to find Trip. Got a 20?
Gray dots float, and his reply appears. Found him. Dropping a pin.