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“How’d it go?”
“She’s in. Didn’t negotiate beyond my initial offer.”
“Helps that your initial offer was absurdly generous.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to her though and we’ll get a strategy together.”
“No, I’ll have somebody else do it. I want you on another job.”
He raises his eyebrows. “What’s that?”
“The email. I want to know who sent it.”
He hesitates, slowing, and I slow to match his pace.
“You sure you want to do that? Whoever sent those pictures had some serious access and you know how these rich families can be.”
“They have access and an agenda. We need to know who and why.”
He sighs but nods. “You’re right. I’ll get digging.”
“Keep it quiet. I don’t know who’s involved yet and I don’t want to make things worse.”
“Understood.” Baptist shades his eyes and looks down the block. His face falls and he steps forward toward a man walking quickly in our direction. “Ansell.”
I frown as the person approaches. He’s on the short side, slim, young, probably in his late teens judging by the pretty pathetic mustache marinating on his upper lip. He’s got dark eyes and thick hair, and it takes me a few seconds to place him.
That’s a Crawford. Not the main family, but a cousin, one I don’t know but I’ve seen him around. He stops a few feet away looking from me to Baptist and seems clearly uncomfortable. “Uh, Ansell Drake?”
“That’s me. Who are you?”
“Dan Crawford.” He glances around, wringing his hands. “Uh, I was sent to find you and your secretary said you had a meeting here.”
“My secretary needs to learn to check with me before telling people where I’m at.” I glance at Baptist and he shakes his head. We’ll have to deal with that issue later. “What can I do for you, Dan?”
“My uncle sent me with a message.” He clears his throat. “Uncle Magnus says to tell you that, uh, I’m quoting here, the girl’s father is on my side now, Drake. He wants to know if you’ll reconsider the conversation you had.”
I let that sink in. Baptist scowls at the boy but doesn’t advance. We operate on a strict don’t-shoot-the-messenger policy, even if the messenger is a member of a family we despise and bearing particularly unwelcome news.
Marie’s meeting didn’t go well then. I knew it wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t think her father would actively try to switch sides so quickly. Magnus has been hammering on the bastard and draining money from his fund like water through a leaky rowboat, but I never imagined the man would capitulate so quickly.
It changes my opinion of Marie’s father. I thought he was a force to be reckoned with, but clearly not. He’s just another bootlicking selfish prick that rolls over and shows his belly at the first sign of hardship.
Poor Marie had to grow up with that pathetic excuse for a man.
“Tell your uncle to come speak with me himself. Phones and email exist.”
Dan laughs slightly like I’m joking, although I’m absolutely not. “Uncle Magnus likes to send his nieces and nephews on little errands. He thinks the personal touch is better.”
“He’s a bastard.”
Dan looks scandalized. “I’m not sure I can agree with you.”
“Whether you do or not doesn’t matter. Tell your uncle he can fuck himself.”
“I definitely can’t do that.”
“Then clean it up but convey the sentiment.”
He rubs the back of his head. “Uh, it’s not my place to say, but Uncle Magnus is really mad. I don’t think I’ve seen him this mad in a long time. Whatever you guys are fighting about, it’s got him really stressed, and everyone’s life sort of sucks when he’s stressed.”
“I feel so sorry for you.” I step forward, staring at the kid, and to his credit he doesn’t back down. He only returns the stare and doesn’t move. “Not only is your uncle a world class piece of shit, he’s also pissed me off. And guess what? I’m a world class piece of shit myself. If you’re smart, Dan Crawford, you’d run back home, deliver my message, and keep your fucking head down for a while.”
Dan considers that and nods. “I’ll take it under advisement, Mr. Drake.”
“Then have a nice day.”
Dan accepts my dismissal, turns around, and walks off. I watch him go, not sure what the hell to make of that.
“Magnus is getting desperate.” Baptist crosses his arms over his chest. “Really desperate.”
“You think so?”
“He wouldn’t send a direct family member like that if he was confident. Like you said, phones and email exist.”
“That’s true.” I glance down at my hands and turn toward the car. “Find out who wrote the damn email. I need to go home and tell Pearce that her father is a coward and a traitor.”
“Think that’ll go over well?”
“I doubt it very much.”
Baptist laughs as I get in the car and my driver rolls toward home.
