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“Then she must have realized she was going to have to sacrifice her relationship with your father to keep you safe. It must have killed her inside. I know it would me if I had to walk away from the love of my life. Finding his son after all these years had to have been an emotional bombshell for Max, too. He could have shown up at your office and blurted out the truth, but he didn’t. He found a way to ease you into the idea. That had to have taken a lot of restraint on his part.”
Bash cleared his throat. Then changed the subject. “Have you heard anything from your attorney about an FBI deal?”
“He’s supposed to call me in the morning.”
“Good.” He glanced at his watch, offering her his hand. “It’s 1 a.m. We need to get some sleep. Things always look better in the morning, or at least that’s what they say.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Bash tossed and turned for most of what was left of the night, fighting unsuccessfully to eradicate the thoughts in his head. He had to come to terms with his new reality. Not only had he gained an instant father, but he had also been dragged into Max’s unsavory world. As if the Dragon Fire gang pursuing them wasn’t enough. Where do we go from here?
When he got to the motel dining room, he found Max and Morgan seated in a far corner, deep in conversation.
“Good morning,” he forced a greeting.
“Morning,” Max said with an awkward smile.
Morgan flashed him a warm smile. The kind of smile that assured him she had his back. “Good morning, Bash. Were you able to get any sleep last night?”
“So-so,” he said, taking a seat across from Max.
“Morgan was just telling me about her grandfather and your escape from the Dragon Fire bikers. It’s quite a story.” He turned back to Morgan. “Not a lot of men would give up their whole life for a grandchild … especially one who had lived such a violent lifestyle. He has my admiration for what he was willing to sacrifice for you. Not unlike what Sebastian’s mother did for him. If you think about it, it’s quite ironic that you two met.”
Bash stared at him for a few beats. “I never thought about it like that. You’re right. Similar but different.”
“Did your attorney call you yet?” Bash asked Morgan.
“He did, but it wasn’t the best news. The FBI can’t make a final decision until they complete an extensive background check on Pops and me. You know … in case I’m selling drugs to my kindergarteners,” she said, showing her frustration.
“Sarcasm, Morgan. That’s highly unlike you. You’re usually a ray of sunshine,” Bash teased.
“Maybe it’s a lack of sleep. Anyway, I expressed my concern about holding on to the ledger. The FBI wants it badly, but Mr. Livingston refused to turn it over until I have immunity from any prosecution they might dream up. He suggested I mail it to a secure location where I could pick it up later. I told him there wasn’t anyone who I would burden with that responsibility. Too dangerous. I guess I’m stuck with it until the FBI clears me.”
“What exactly is in the ledger? Maybe I can help,” Max asked.
Bash glanced at Morgan, whose face read surprise. He wondered if it was a good idea to involve Max, but it wasn’t his call.
Morgan described the ledger contents, mentioned some of the recognizable names, and talked about the implications to the high-profile clients listed.
“It has felt like a ticking time bomb ever since Pops left it to me. He called it insurance. Feels more like a death sentence.”
“I’m sure that’s not what he intended,” Bash said reassuringly.
“I wouldn’t call it insurance because it makes you a target, but it could have been a multi-million-dollar blackmailing scheme. Still could be.”
“What do you mean?” Bash asked.
“I mean, someone went to a lot of trouble to keep track of sales and services made to some very important clients. The information could have been used to extort money,” Max said.
“Are you saying my Pops was blackmailing these people?” her eyes widened in surprise.
Max’s face softened. “That’s not what I’m saying at all, Morgan. For your Pops, it was an insurance policy. If anyone in the club got arrested, all the club had to do was threaten to expose the information. It would encourage influential people with things to hide to keep the authorities at bay. With the ledger in your possession, he probably believed no one would bother you. Your father, on the other hand, must see it as a money-making opportunity. Blackmail being one option. I agree that getting it out of your hands is the best option.”
“We haven’t been able to come up with a solution,” Bash said.
“I know you don’t know me, and this is going to take a certain amount of trust on your part, but I think I have a safe place for you to mail it,” Max said. “My mother divorced my father about a year after Izzy disappeared. She always believed he had something to do with her disappearance. She loved Izzy almost as much as I did. When Mamma left, she moved back to her hometown, Denver. As soon as my father lost interest in monitoring her whereabouts, I helped her purchase a place of her own just north of Camden, Maine. The property ownership is hidden under a corporate name that my father can never trace. A caretaker and his wife, who are like family, moved with her to Maine so she wouldn’t be alone. She has maintained a P.O. Box over the years. It allows us to communicate without her mail being monitored. If you feel comfortable, we can mail the ledger to her, drive to her home, and pick it up when you get an appropriate deal with the Feds. We are all in flux right now. It might be an ideal place for us to land until we get our issues settled.”
“But wouldn’t that put your mother in potential danger?” Morgan asked.
