The Love of Money II – Chapter 04: Perverse Distractions

Friday, September 6th, 10:05 am

The roar of the engines whipped my jacket around as I followed Erin across the tarmac toward the plane’s steps. I stopped at the bottom of the steps and turned to gaze out at the Scottish highlands one last time, enjoying the intense greens that reached up toward the gray overcast skies as if trying to impart some of its vibrancy to the drab colors overhead. So far, this had been my favorite spot to visit during my European excursion. I enjoyed the bustle of large cities like London and Paris; the uniqueness of places like Amsterdam had been fascinating, but Scotland held a majesty and beauty that the other places hadn’t. It was probably comparing apples to oranges, considering I bought a castle in the countryside.

Of course, Lillian wasn’t much of a help at preventing biases. I wasn’t in love by any stretch, but I could easily see myself adding the young, curvy Scottish beauty to the little harem trailing behind me as I flitted around the world. While I could afford it, I didn’t think it would have been fair to her. She had a life to lead; all I could do was disrupt that in exchange for momentary pleasures. I’d be back, and perhaps we would see what happened in time, but for now, saying goodbye to her would have to do.

Turning, I headed up the plane’s steps and entered with Chloe in tow. It wasn’t as big or luxurious as mine, but it wasn’t bad either. There was a large common area with comfortable-looking seating, a hallway to the left leading off to what I assumed were a few private rooms, a toilet, and a minibar, which Shea was already perusing. She gave me a little smile and a wink. “Looks like this place is fully stocked. Why don’t you go ahead and get comfortable? Once we’ve leveled off, I’ll get you some breakfast.”

A thin, cream-colored folder slapped me in the midsection, cutting off my response. Chloe stood beside me, holding a folder against my chest until I took it from her.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Reading material,” she said, nodding back at Jon, the last one up the stairs. He shut the door and edged past us to head toward the cockpit. “Should give you enough to do till breakfast.”

I flipped open the folder, leafed through the pages, followed Chloe, and took up one of the empty seats.

“Is this Hannon’s findings on the laptop?” Erin asked, peering at the folder as she sat beside me.

“It is,” Chloe said, sitting opposite me so we could face each other. “Before we get into that, though, I thought you should know I’ve been briefed on Håkansson’s place. She keeps minimal security at her mansion and only has one bodyguard on her when she leaves. It’s pretty remote. I’d like to stay near you, but the rest of my guys can ease off when we get there.”

She continued, “Astrid says they picked out the meeting place—a remote cabin only accessible by chopper. This is the best Tanaka would agree to. According to Astrid, you, her, and Tanaka are the only ones allowed there. I told her I was going, or it wasn’t happening, so she finally relented to each person having one bodyguard. No weapons. Astrid’s there to broker the peace, so her security will check all four of us for contraband before we can step foot in the cabin where negotiations will be held. A small crew of four will be at the cabin to serve us food and whatever—all unarmed civilians.”

By this point, the plane had taxied out to the runway, the engines were revving up, and I could feel the plane begin to lunge forward at a rate that made my stomach churn slightly. Minutes later, we were taking off.

“What do we know about Ryo Tanaka?” I asked as I settled back in my seat and scanned the documents.

“Not much that isn’t easy to find on a Google search,” Chloe said. “He went to Yale and fucked around for about seven years before finally graduating. Fucked around for another six years in business school before finally getting an MBA. He’s hot-tempered, entitled, and goes through women like a fourteen-year-old boy goes through Kleenex.”

“Jesus,” Erin said. “Hiro attracts losers, doesn’t he? Sounds a little like Carla.”

“Worse, I’d say,” Chloe said dryly. “Tanaka has a daughter, and it looks like Hiro is a traditionalist. I can’t find much on her besides a tran***********. She got her MBA in four years, but I can’t find any evidence that she works in the company.”

“Her too?” I asked. “Don’t MBAs normally take two years?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, “But I’m talking about getting a degree and an MBA in four years. She’s twenty-one, which means she probably graduated high school early, too.”

“But Ryo’s the one we’re meeting with?” Erin asked.

At the same time, I asked, “What’s the deal with all the spoiled rich boys?”

“There’s plenty of spoiled girls out there,” Chloe said.

“Ashlee,” Erin said.

Chloe nodded. “Carla.” She shrugged. “I’m no psychologist, but if I had to guess, I’d say Hiro wasn’t the most present father, and your father was dead. I doubt either of them had any strong father figure.”

The thought made me even more appreciative of my dad, and I made a mental note to call my parents just to check in. I hadn’t talked to them since the weekend I threw the party at the house.

“Cool. Meeting Ryo tomorrow. Just you and me. Got it.” I held up the papers she’d given me. “Now, what’s this?”

“A lot of guesswork,” Chloe said, her lips compressing in a frown. Her nose crinkled a little when she did it, which was cute as hell. Combined with the light dusting of freckles and the blonde hair, it was almost enough to make me forget how cold and deadly she could be.

“From what the team at Hannon can piece together, it’s a list of bank accounts and routing numbers, although they haven’t had any luck pinpointing any of the institutions they belong to. The numbers could be some kind of code, but no one’s been able to break it. I think they might be linked to shell corporations your grandfather owned. It’s probably to do with some of the more illicit parts of his business.”

I felt an eyebrow raise. “Colin had his information written out in some kind of code?”

Chloe nodded. “We’re pretty sure it’s a code because one of the guys at Hannon managed to crack some of the other information we pulled off the laptop. It’s a bunch of names, dates, and locations. Hannon is working with Psalter to track down the few leads we’ve managed to pull from the info.”

“Getting information off a hard drive with a hole drilled through it is great work,” I said, looking up from the papers, “But this doesn’t tell me much about the flash drive they were after… or anything at all.”

Chloe shook her head. “This is information from the flash drive. Whoever stole it must have looked at the information on it with the laptop before destroying it. They found it in…” she checked a note, “they found it by doing a RAM dump?”

“Okay,” I said as if I knew what that meant. “So all this is information from the flash drive.”

“Yep. Here’s where it gets interesting,” Chloe said, leaning forward. Her dark brown eyes were alight with intrigue; it was the most expressive I’d seen her… save for that night in Vegas when I caught her watching Ashley, Shea, and me enjoy each other’s company.

“They got a hit on one of the names,” Chloe continued. “Phillip Castor.”

I glanced through the pages, finding it on the third. Four numbers were beside his name—four, two, seven, and another four.

“What about him?” I asked.

“He was an inmate at a high-security prison for the wealthy and privileged. He was murdered nine days ago.”

I could feel my eyes growing wide. “What?”

“We requested the footage, but apparently, there was some kind of technical malfunction, and half of that day’s recording was corrupted. The officer on duty in their surveillance room was found knocked out.”

“You’re telling me someone waltzed into a secure facility, murdered an inmate, and left without anyone noticing until it was too late? How’s that possible?” Erin asked.

“There’s no footage,” Chloe said, “But two guards manning security at the front entrance described the person who signed in to visit Castor around the time that the murder took place. It sounds an awful lot like Amber Bell.”

I sat up straight in my seat. “That fucking bitch!”

“We’ve got her?” Erin asked.

Chloe shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I got a call from Hannon about an hour ago. They’ve verified that Amber was working out of a coffee shop in New York that morning. They confirmed with one of the baristas on duty that morning, and I should be getting video any moment now.”

“Motherfucker!” I snarled, “This crap again!?”

“So, it wasn’t her?” Erin asked.

“I think it was,” Chloe said, eying me. “Marcus was so sure Amber was in Vegas that I wondered whether or not it was true.”

“Because it was!” I protested.

“The mind can play tricks when you’re under that much stress,” Chloe said placatingly. “But with two more people giving us a perfect de***********ion of Amber, I’m inclined to think that she’s somehow managing to fool everyone into thinking she’s in one place when she’s really somewhere else.”

“Glad we’ve cleared that up,” I said, unable to completely hide the wryness from my voice and immediately regretting it. Chloe was in my corner and had saved my life that night in Vegas. Granted, I’d paid her to do it, but still… what was a six-digit annual salary compared to my life. As far as I was concerned, I owed her, and vilifying her because she was understandably skeptical wasn’t a good look. “What do we do about this?”

Chloe looked unaffected by my tone. “Nothing right now. I’m working with Henry. We’ll try to figure out how she’s doing what she’s doing, and I’ll update you if we piece any more information together from the hard drive.”

“That’s it?” I asked. “There’s nothing else I can do?”

“Nope,” Chloe said. She reached for the folder she’d given me earlier. “Just let Psalter and I do our jobs. It’s why you pay us. In the meantime…” my bodyguard glanced past me. “I think it’s just about time for breakfast.”

I followed Chloe’s gaze to see Shea standing in the hallway opening leading to the private rooms, another mysterious smile gracing her full lips. She jerked her head back the way she’d come, beckoning me.

“Come on, boss,” Erin said, unbuckling her belt as she stood up. “Let’s let Chloe work while we see what Shea has for us.”

A few minutes later, I was experiencing the gentle thrum of music that could almost be felt as much as it could be heard. Deep, rolling basslines of trip-hop and dub underlined slow, groove-driven beat and eclectic female vocals. It was the perfect companion to the smooth, snake-like movement of Shea’s hips as she rolled them from side to side. Her back turned toward me, and her prominent ass moved up and down in liquid motions as she flashed seductive bedroom eyes over one shoulder.

Shea was a small woman, which made her average curves more prominent. With her easy smile and petite frame, though, she could easily come across as a diminutive, sweet little Pacific Asian woman. But in moments like this… she was more woman than her compact frame could have ever suggested.

There hadn’t exactly been a dancer’s pole on the plane, so Shea was being creative, using a small desk as a prop to bend over, roll across, and writhe in ways that were simply mouth-watering. She probably could have taught Natashya a few things… only, Natashya was off limits. Shea was not.

And the way my dick strained against my pants… it knew she was on the menu.

“So,” Erin said, sitting on the couch beside me and nibbling on a piece of bacon she held delicately between two fingers.

“So,” I repeated, unable to tear my eyes away from Shea. At this point, she’d completely removed her flight attendant’s outfit and was currently writhing around in a lacy black bra and panty set. This was one hell of a way to eat breakfast—getting a strip show by my private flight attendant while hanging out with one of the hottest women I’d ever met, my personal assistant.

“Karly,” Erin said.

I finally took my eyes off Shea to look at Erin. “Karly,” I repeated.

“I’ve been dying to talk to you about this. Charity called me after she talked to you last night and gave me Karly’s information. I talked to her, and she filled me in on some details. It’s a movie she really likes about a computer falling in love with its owner and trapping her inside her smart home. Karly’s been trying to get funding, but no one’s bitten.”

“How come?” I asked, turning my attention back to Shea.

“The writer’s new to the industry, and Karly is the only one with any kind of clout attached to it, and apparently, that’s not enough.”

“Hm,” I said, barely paying attention.