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“Holy shit." Craig Sterling stands in the doorway: stout and broad-shouldered, with graying hair and a look on his face that says,I thought I’d seen it all.“Vivian Emmerico. You look like you've been dragged through a bush.”
“That’s not a far cry from what happened,” I manage, wincing.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Sometimes I forget how little my former boss minces words. “I need help,” I tell him flatly. “I have nowhere else to go.”
Craig’s eyes narrow, and I can tell he’s sizing me up—the same way he sized me up at that job interview all those months ago. “You’d better get inside,” he says finally.
ChapterForty
“Keep your feet off the rugs,” Craig says as he leads me through his sprawling foyer. “I just had them cleaned. A royal pain in the ass, let me tell you.” He switches on a light and points me toward the kitchen area, where I take an awkward seat at the table. Craig doesn't look at me, instead heading straight for the sink to fill his tea kettle.
“I can't thank you enough for this,” I venture.
“Don’t thank me yet.” Craig puts the tea water on and turns to face me, crossing his bulky arms. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t throw you out,” he says. “Because right now, my gut’s telling me to kick you to the curb, call your father, and beg him not to deal with me the way he usually deals with people. I’m sure you understand.” He gives me a thin smile.
I swallow hard. "I don't suppose our unbreakable professional bond is enough of a reason?”
Craig snorts. "I forgot how much of a smart-ass you can be, Emmerico.” He shakes his head slowly. “Do you have any idea what kind of shit-show you’ve come back to here?”
“I can take a guess,” I reply. “When Theo broke off from his family, he took a bunch of his father's men with him.”
“More than just that,” Craig says. “Things are falling apart here. None of the local gangs trust Victor Emmerico's leadership after the little stunt your brother-in-law pulled, and that's not even saying shit about Lucas. The man's got some screws loose, and I'm sick of pretending otherwise. He’s getting reckless, and Victor's getting desperate. It won't be long before someone fucks up so badly even the police won’t be able to turn a blind eye. And you know what happens then, don’t you?”
“They start digging into the family business,” I answer. “And that means taking a long, hard look at the gallery where so many made men have been dumping millions of pounds.”
“You’re sharper than you look, Emmerico.” Craig sighs, running a hand through his hair. I’m surprised; this is the most vulnerable he’s ever looked. “Then there’s what happened to Callie.”
I close my eyes for a long moment, praying more tears don’t come. “Any idea who did it?”
Craig shakes his head. “She’s still in the hospital. I don't know how much she really knows about what we do, so it's not like I can send one of my guys up there.” He sighs as the kettle whistles and gets up to pour the tea. “Either way, I’m willing to put money on it being someone from one of the families. The fact they didn't take anything just confirms it, in my eyes: this was a threat. Things are getting hairy for us, Emmerico,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at me. “I don't like it.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Me neither. And speaking of which…” My mind drifts back to an exchange I had with Callie, when I was still hiding out. “Does the name Patrick ring any bells? I…” I stumble over the words. “I, uh, heard he’s been on a buying spree.”
Craig sniffs. “And just how did you hear about him?”
I grit my teeth and stay silent. I’ve screwed over my best friend more than enough for one lifetime.
“You know what? Forget I asked.” Craig unceremoniously sets my tea down in front of me and plops into the other chair. “Yeah, it rings bells, all right. He bought the Hirst, and believe me when I say that’s the last painting I’m ever selling the guy.”
I raise my eyebrows as I drink my tea. "What did he do?”
“It’s not what he did, it’s who he’s doing it for.” Sterling sips at his own mug. “I did some digging. He’s one of your husband’s, and if he’s buying under a phony name, it means he’s doing it without old Victor’s go-ahead.”
A chill of fear runs down my spine. “You think Lucas is getting ready to seize power?”
“Either that,” Craig replies ominously, “or he thinks he already has. Either way, I’m done upsetting the apple cart. Which leads us to this whole…” He gestures at me. “Situation.”
"I'm not trying to cause more problems for you, Mr. Sterling," I tell him. "I wouldn't be here if I had anywhere else to go.”
"Yeah?" he snorts. "And why is that?”
"For one thing, my parents think I'm crazy," I reply. "And my husbandiscrazy. Do you see how fucked up I am?" I gesture at my face. "He hit me with his car. Shot at me. Tried to keep me prisoner. If I go to the police, they'll ask questions that I don't know how to answer. If I go to my parents, Lucas will blame it on Theo. He's already convinced them he's gone insane." I shake my head. "I need to get back to Theo. Figure out my next move. But I've got no way of contacting him.”
Craig massages his temples as if he's fighting a massive headache. "You're not making my life easier, Emmerico," he says. Then he stands up, sighs, and points to the hallway. "There are towels in the upstairs bathroom. Get yourself cleaned up. I'm going to make a few phone calls and see if I can't track down this brother-in-law of yours.”
Relief washes over me. “You’re a life-saver, Mr. Sterling."
