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“He’s either being protective or she’s covering her tracks.” Which one doesn’t matter. Before I get on a plane to London, he will atone for this oversight.
For now, I send Ezra an email with what I have on Giannis and ask him to cross check and then return my focus to the neighborhood’s occupants. To each of Aliana’s neighbors: an old lady three doors down, a couple to her right, a group of college kids, an empty townhouse, and then a man across the street who only comes and never stays longer than one night here and there.
No rhyme or reason.
No frontal picture of his face, as if he knows where the cameras are and avoids those angles.
But it’s enough for me to deduce that the owner knows her. There’s no other reason as to why someone would buy an expensive home under a fake alias and corporation as proof of income unless you’re hiding your tracks. There’s only a handful of criminals in this city worth a shit, and they all stay far away from the Jameson hold or Asher’s nose.
Could one of them be bold enough to make this move and try pushing their product? Yes.
Has anything been attempted since they purchased this property? No.
Which leaves me to think someone is spying on her. But who, though?
An ex.
A family member.
Someone that shows up unannounced to an outing.
There’s a vibration coming from my mobile alerting me to a text. Picking it up, I swipe my thumb across the screen.
I’m a few feet from your vehicle with the breakfast you requested. ~Kray
Tossing my mobile aside, I exit a few seconds later and watch the large man carrying my breakfast approach. In his hands is a bag with baked goods and a tray with a cuppa for me, and whatever sweet concoction with a dash of coffee Aliana drinks. They’re from a place near her school that she likes, a local bakery, and I know the gesture will be appreciated. I’m not hiding anything from her. She’ll know I pulled a background check and that every single moment cataloged from her birth to the current date is accessible to me.
“You know, Jameson. This isn’t in my job description,” Kray says while I place the items on the roof of my rental. “I’m not a gopher.”
“Yet you offered this morning, mate.” Grabbing my cup, I take a sip of the breakfast tea: no sugar, splash of milk. My eyes are already back on her door from the driveway of my recently purchased empty townhome next to hers. Because money talks, walks, and has everyone bending over to take it up the arse if enough zeroes are attached. This purchase took me less time to accomplish than ordering at a restaurant. “Uber Eats would’ve worked just fine.”
“So unappreciative, Jameson,” he snorts, but then his amusement dies. “I don’t think you’ll like what I found, by the way. There’s more to this than what I thought.”
“So, the missing information I requested was a mistake?”
“I need a few more days for her. Please.”
“Are you asking me as a mate or as the person paying you to do this?” He’s quick to try and answer, but I shake my head causing him to pause. “Think before you speak, Timmons. One is a favor, the other an admittance to neglect and I’m giving you the option here to save your own arse.”
“As my friend, Callum,” Kray says the moment I’m done. No hesitation. “She’s not a threat, I promise. We have history.”
“Three days.”
“Thank you.”
“Your loyalty thus far has earned you the benefit of the doubt, don’t disappoint me.” That’s the only warning I’ll give him, and he knows it. If Aliana’s hurt due to his idiocy, I’ll kill them both. The threat hangs heavy in the air, yet he places a hand over his heart in acceptance of my terms. “Now, what did you find? Is it about the property with the phantom owner behind me?”
“Yes.”
“Well?”
“Last night I pulled a few strings and traced the dummy company back to its owner, and you know him.” My reply is a wave of the hand for him to keep going. I have a woman to wake up and feed. “It’s Malcolm Asher.”
Interesting, yet I’m not buying it. Something reeks of rubbish in this equation.
“Do you have the paperwork with you?”
“Yes.”
