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“You’re thieves.”
“Technically.” This was the oddest conversation. An out of body experience where he was openly discussing his family’s criminality. It was weirding him out.
“Practically. You con people.” She refilled her wine glass. His was still full. “You’re cheats, sneaks, and crooks,” she said.
He took a large sip. “Even us cheats, sneaks, and crooks have a code. Family doesn’t con family.” That sip was more of a gulp, which he repeated.
“That’s not what Easton was doing.”
“Unless what I heard was the Bradshaw family equivalent of a quirky, humorous tradition, then it was extortion in action.”
She threw a hand up, signaling her exasperation. “Intimidation is obviously a time-honored Bradshaw family custom, the leading exponents of which are my father and brother.” She fashioned her hand into a pistol and fired it at him. “And it’s none of your goddamn business.”
“Cal sent me here to make sure Dollars for Daughters is safe. It’s not safe if someone is trying to steal from it. It’s not safe if you’re not.”
There was no need to tell Lenny someone had most likely already stolen from her charity until he examined her accounts more closely and followed the money trail in detail.
“I’m not going to give Easton money, and he would never hurt me.”
He wished he could make dead sure of that. “What are you going to do?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Keep throwing things at you till you leave.”
He held his empty tumbler out to her. “Here. Power up.”
She took the glass from his hand and frowned. “Halsey, I do appreciate you looking over our books. I’m incredibly sorry for expressing myself forcefully all over you, but you are the worst influence. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
Which ended any idle speculation she might ever truly express herself forcefully all over him in a way he’d find most satisfactory. He had to clear his throat to get the next words out. “Your brother is a psychopath.”
She put the glass down on the table so hard they were lucky there weren’t more fragments to sweep up. “You can’t say that.”
More’s the pity, he could. “Easton Jeffrey Bradshaw is the only son of Jeffrey Grantley Bradshaw and Nicole Elizabeth Bradshaw nee Dresden. Thirty-five years old. Graduate of Cornell. Three years of stockbrokering at Gouldman’s. He launched a housemate finder startup that he crashed in twenty-four months by screwing up his burn rate. Licked his wounds by messing around in Europe for years, where he left a trail of broken hearts and financial obligations. Last known address is”—he paused, taking in Lenny’s rigid posture, the freak out going on in her eye
s—“should I go on?”
“Why do you know all that?”
“It’s our business to know about people we’re in business with. Your brother is a psychopath like your father. He could hurt you and D4D. You’re too close to see it.”
She gave a slow blink. Her eyes weren’t red rimmed anymore, and her expression was more sad than angry. “I’m not in business with you.” She folded her arms tight across her middle. “Please leave.”
She said it quietly; it had the force of a dozen missiles launched with precision to disable him. He felt the strikes. He was pushing her, but he couldn’t stop worrying about her, and he couldn’t help her unless she let him. That was the art of the con, making people want what you wanted for them. “Let me help you.”
“Go, before I call the police and tell them a known criminal is intimidating me.”
Do it, delegate it, or dump it.
Essentially the organizational principle Halsey lived by when he was behind his desk. Out in the field, the rules were different. Logically, he should dump this in the too-hard basket, but Cal would have Zeke hold him down while he personally tattooed something offensive on his neck or had one of his sisters glitter bomb his bed. Hard to know what was worse. Glitter just never quit.
But he wasn’t about to.
“When he’s not being a shithead, Easton is charming. The life of the party,” he said. “When you have his full attention, you feel like you’ve won a prize. He’s a skillful manipulator of sentiment and circumstances. He’s also an excitement junkie and thrives on drama he’ll create if it’s not already there to exploit. He’s impetuous. He’s irresponsible. When something goes wrong, it’s never his fault. He’s an expert liar and has never met a situation he can’t be glib about. He’s never felt guilty for his deceptions a single moment of his life.”
Lenny’s mouth dropped open before she said, “How do you know Easton?”
“I don’t.” He would’ve explained how he knew men like Easton intimately. How they made excellent marks because it never occurred to them they weren’t the smartest person in the room, but the outer door opened and the man himself walked in with an enormous bunch of yellow roses and a box of designer chocolates.
“Oh, hi.” Easton looked at Halsey like he’d never seen him before, because he hadn’t. Men like Easton only took in the details they could use to further their own needs, and Halsey had been a no one presence in the stairwell an hour ago.
