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I shrugged. ‘Sure.’
The beauty of working for Emilio was that he had all sorts of safeguards already in place when it came to the money laundering business. For instance, he’d had someone install an IP address blocker in my laptop, so that if any heat ever came down on the finance side of things, it couldn’t be tracked from our location inside the club. I didn’t understand a lot about the intricacies of it, but I did know that if Emilio thought that it was good enough to hide the staggering amounts of money he was channelling out of the country, then it would surely be good enough for what I planned to do.
‘That’s a lot of money,’ John said, watching over my shoulder as I set up three transfers that equalled more than a hundred thousand dollars, from three of Murphy’s bank accounts into Allie’s. They’d appear as cash deposits, and with over a hundred grand sitting in her bank account by tomorrow, we might just be able to avoid both her wrath and the DEA’s attention. It wasn’t the nicest thing to do to somebody, but that bitch had threatened my son, and if she was Team Murphy, then she had to be stopped.
John pulled out a burner phone he’d just purchased, along with a voice-altering device, a small box that he taped to the handset and plugged in using a small cord. He punched in a number and let it ring.
‘Yes, hello,’ he said to whoever answered. ‘This is Timothy at First National Bank, West Hollywood. I’m calling in relation to a large deposit one of your staff has just received. We’ve had this account flagged as being connected to an international drug cartel run by Emilio Ross.’
The person on the end of the line said something I couldn’t hear, and John smiled. ‘Of course. Her name is Alexandra Baxter.’
He ended the call and broke open the back of the phone, pulling the SIM card out and snapping it in half.
‘You want to get some breakfast with me?’ he asked. ‘I’m starved.’
I smiled.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MARIANA
Another Sunday.
I was sitting at the end of a long conference table where the Gypsy Brothers normally held church. This week, however, they were convening in the dining room, and Emilio had commandeered the large boardroom. Across from me, Emilio looked at his watch, and Dornan paced. That was unusual. Dornan was normally in his own meeting with the rest of the Gypsy Brothers, not in here discussing finances with his father, myself and Murphy.
‘Are we waiting for Murphy?’ I asked finally, looking at the door. He’d been dead less than a week, but neither Dornan nor Emilio seemed to know this.
Emilio unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat back against the large conference table that took up most of the room, so that he was painfully close to me. I wished he’d just sit across from me like any normal person would.
‘That’s why we’re here,’ Emilio said, studying me carefully. ‘I’d like you to check on something for me. Did you bring that computer?’
I nodded, patting the bag at my feet.
‘Get it out,’ he said impatiently. ‘I don’t have all day, girl. Pull up Murphy’s bank accounts. The offshore ones.’
So they were missing him already. I was glad we hadn’t waited any longer to transfer money from Murphy’s accounts into Allie’s.
I took a measured breath and reached for the laptop, pulling it from its protective bag. I placed it on the table in front of me and fired it up, navigating to a browser and looking at both of them expectantly.
‘Wi-fi password?’ I asked. Dornan and Emilio stared at me like I was speaking another language.
‘I need an internet connection to log on,’ I explained. Seriously, how had these two gotten this far? With people like me to take care of the details, I realised. Great. I loved enabling rich assholes to get richer. My job satisfaction was at an all-time low.
Dornan disappeared, coming back a few moments later with a post-it note. He stuck it to the desk in front of me, making a concerted effort not to touch me at all. He never gave me the silent treatment. I keyed in the wi-fi password, waited for it to connect, and navigated to the website we used for our offshore trade accounts. Within a few moments, I’d pulled up all six bank accounts that I had set up for Murphy in various places in the Caymans and Europe.
I turned the computer to face Emilio, and watched his face with great interest. He sucked a breath in between his teeth, tapping the screen. ‘What’s this?’ He angled the screen so I could see it, pointing to the last transaction on Murphy’s account, from only days ago.
I moved closer. ‘It’s a transfer,’ I said. I tilted my head, feigning confusion. ‘A few.’
Emilio looked at Dornan, an eyebrow raised. ‘Who the fuck is Alexandra Baxter?’
I’d had her pegged as an Allison. Alexandra was much too refined for that woman.
I shrugged.
‘Wait,’ Dornan said. ‘Alexandra. Allie?’
Emilio ran his tongue along his teeth. ‘His partner?’
