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“Indeed,” I reply.
“What’s her name, Jer? I can see what I can do. No promises. But our database is extensive.”
“I owe you,” I say, meaning every word. “I’ve searched for years since Gabriel handed me her name as to why it’s her. In the eyes of our family, she’s a nobody.”
“Name, Jer. I’ve got to get going on my work,” she sighs on the other end.
“Big problems?” I quip, sipping my morning whiskey.
There’s another beat of silence. “My best friend has a stalker. Nothing terrible yet, but I can’t figure it out.”
“If you had names, I’d take care of them for you.”
“I know you would. When I find them, they’re going down. Now, stop stalling and give me this girl’s name.”
“Fine. Journey West. I need to find out as much as possible about her and her sister, Sunshine.”
“Journey West,” she says on the other end, typing a few things. “Like Corbin West’s daughter? The famous rock star? He’s the only rock star I know who has named all his kids after his favorite bands.” I snort, hearing the moment she rolls her eyes in amusement.
“That’s the one,” I mutter. “As far as I’ve found out, she doesn’t know him or anyone associated with him. No money. No nothing.”
“No money?” she questions with a breath. “Jer, I’m very, very familiar with the West family. A lot of them, actually. That man had so many kids and didn’t take care of them until after he died.”
I blink several times. “I’ve had a long night, Liv. What are you saying?”
“Oh, so it’s okay for you to circle around your questions but not for me?” she quips without heat.
“Of course. I’m a king,” I snort.
“So you think…” she trails off going quiet. “My best friend is a West. She grew up in a small town in Illinois with barely anything to her name. Seger and Zeppelin West, her brothers, tracked her down after Corbin died and handed her an inheritance. In fact, all the West kids got an inheritance in the same fashion—hand delivered.”
My stomach knots when she pauses. “How much, Liv?”
She blows out a breath. “Twenty million initially, with payments each year. Corbin was a billionaire by the time he died but had set up funds for each kid so their moms couldn’t get their hands on them. But that’s all I really know. I don’t usually sit around talking about money with my friends.”
I sit up. “Twenty million? But she…”
“I’ll mark this in my calendar as the day I stumped Jericho Viotto into silence.”
“Fuck you,” I bite out without heat, curling my fingers around my glass.
“Yeah, you, too,” she chuckles. “You understand what I’m saying, right?”
“When did these inheritances roll out, Liv? When did they get access to them?”
“About three years ago,” she says, clearing her throat.
Three years? That means Journey was possibly sixteen when her father handed her millions of dollars. And she doesn’t seem to have a clue. Was she too young to receive it? Fuck. I need to look over the paperwork we already have on her.
“Can you look into it for me? Or put me into contact with someone who might have a clue?” Journey doesn’t have shit. That I know for a fact. Besides the two grand she had hoarded away in her dresser when we went through her things.
“Let me talk to Zepp and Seger and ensure we’re on the same page. I can get you some more answers, too.”
I blow out a breath and finish my whiskey. “It would be helpful. I can pay you for your work.”
“I’m sure the government would love to know I took money from a known criminal family,” she quips with a snort. “Consider it a family discount.”
“A family discount,” I hum. “Thanks, Liv.”
