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“Good.” I stand.
“Carina.” He stops me before I can leave the study.
I turn back to him, expecting gratitude. “Yeah?”
“There will be some men coming tomorrow to discuss some of this. You will remain in the bedroom during that meeting. Is that understood?”
My gaze narrows while his request grates over every one of my nerves. But I don’t say anything, because I’m not going to agree to it. Not when I put the pieces together. With a toss of my short dark hair, I whirl and slide the pocket doors shut in my wake.
If he thinks I’m going to sit upstairs while he takes the credit, he’s about to learn how little he knows me.
19
LUCA
“You wouldn’t believe how far I had to stick my arm up the dark net’s ass to find this shit. Whoever worked it is good,” Kyle says with awe. He turns the laptop to face me. “His name was Stephen Grant Black. He moved from Dublin to the States in 1979. Looks like he worked for the postal service for a few years, then started his own shipping business. Two actually. A legal one he used as a front, and then the real moneymaker he used to ship goods on the black market.”
“That’s why they called him the Ferryman. He was a smuggler,” Gunn surmises.
“Was anyone charged with his death?” I ask.
“Nope. The homicide report doesn’t offer much either. But it does state criminal activity was suspected.” Kyle types in something and pulls up a blurry image of theChicago Lifenewspaper, and both Gunn and I peer over his shoulder at the laptop he brought to Briar House and set on my desk.
“Body of Local Business Owner, Stephen Black, Found in Lake Michigan,” the headline reads.
“Does it say when he became involved with the mafia?” I ask as I fan some of the cigarette smoke Gunn has blown my way.
“I’m not sure he ever did.” Kyle types something and squints at the screen. “If he did, he was never caught doing anything shady.”
“The fucker was obviously a part of something beyond smuggling if he was murdered by the families. For them to come together like that, he had to have been a threat,” Gunn adds.
I wave another cloud of smoke and turn to glare at Gunn. “You are aware my father died of lung cancer. Either you put that shit out, or I’ll cram it down your throat and make you eat it.”
He turns to me slowly and smiles as he puts the cigarette out on his tongue. “Yes, boss.”
“Fucking nasty habit. Never bring that shit in here again.” I lean forward and look at the screen, reading the information for myself. “What’s this? W. Lynn Black.”
“Black’s deceased wife. He was a widower. But what you should be looking at is this.” Kyle points at another area of the report. “He had a son with her. Gideon Leighton Black.”
“Fancy name,” Gunn throws in.
“He had a fucking son?” I ask. “Did you run a search on him?”
Kyle nods slowly. “Oh yeah. And you’re not going to like what I found one bit.” Instead of pulling up something on his computer, he hands me several printouts of documents. “Black is CEO of G.L.B. Enterprises. They’re a corporate lender. They also own buildings in certain locations I think you’ll find too convenient.”
I flip through the pages, and with each one I read, my jaw clenches tighter. “He’s fucking set up to take over.”
Gunn snatches the sheets from me. “Revenge?”
“What better motive?” I ask.
“If that’s true, then this tells us exactly who he believes killed his father. He’s positioned himself within close proximity of anyone he wants gone. Except…” He frowns, flipping through the pages again. “New York isn’t on here.”
“That’s because my father wasn’t involved in Stephen Black’s murder.” I tap my fingers against the desk. “Make copies of all this.”
“Would you like me to send them to anyone on this list?” Gunn asks.
“No. We will distribute it when they get here. If they don’t show up, they can fucking burn for all I care.”
