“Came in last night just before I was leaving the office. By courier.”
“Nice touch. Just before you’re to come report to me. Who leaked?”
“I think it was a coincidence, really. Your gal, Jennifer, seemed very surprised.”
I glanced at the cover page. It was an order to appear and bring records, at Rebecca’s attorney’s office.
“When it comes to Rebecca, there are no coincidences,” I said. “She shits on a timetable. I don’t think she’s been surprised since that fuck, she got at her daddy’s horse ranch when she gave her virginity up to a man she thought was a crown prince who turned out to be a royal con man instead.”
“Wow.”
“Oh, don’t be surprised. She grew up hard. Not a lot of love in that home.”
“Well, that’s harsh. I mean, sorry for her.”
“She’d slit your throat if she heard you say that, so be careful.”
Frank adjusted his tie, touching his neck right where the knife would go in smoothly for the kill, and looked at me warily. “Marco, you’re going to have to make some tough decisions. What they’re asking about is your construction project in Florida—the veteran-ownership venture, building homes for injured vets”
“Bone Frog Development. The Trident Towers project.”
“Exactly.”
“Makes perfect sense. She’d want to hit me where it hurt the most. Odd that she would go for a non-profit like that. I don’t expect to make a dime. I’ll probably lose my shirt on it. Why the hell would they care about that?”
“You’re asking me? You were married to her. Anything I’ve heard would be just gossip.”
I pushed the papers forward and leaned back in my chair, folding my hands together over my chest. Now we were getting to the good stuff. The truth.
“Try me.”
“Excuse me?” His eyes were wide and his glasses slipped down his nose, needing to be pushed back again. From years of interrogating bad guys and judging tribal leaders as to whether or not they could be trusted, I saw the dilation in his pupils, along with a slight worry line crop up between his eyebrows. He knew he got caught.
“What have you heard? Spill it, Frank.”
When a subject looks down at his hands with fingers locked together, I knew he was looking for a way out, a friendly hand to give him a solution to wiggle free.
He was out of luck.
I’d already been told he was saying to others he doubted I would survive the coming months. This was about whether or not I could trust him. I didn’t begrudge his opinions, but I damn sure better get the truth to a direct ask. This was his chance to keep his job, if he still wanted it.
“I’m a numbers guy, Marco,” he said as he raised his gaze to meet mine. He was fortunate he didn’t look away as he spoke his truth. “I’ve seen all these things coming and going, and you’re going to have a huge cash flow problem in a few months. All these audits and attorneys’ fees are drying up your liquid, not to mention the settlements you’ve agreed to. And the public comments in the news, well, I’ve been asked by several people if they should start looking for work elsewhere. And, although I haven’t heard it directly, some have said that the contracts have started to dry up. You know how the government works. They don’t like controversy.”
“Even though they specialize in it.”
He kept his eyes locked on mine, thankfully. “Exactly. But even you have to admit, the numbers don’t lie.”
I leaned forward, placing my palms on the table, and then grabbed the paperwork to start reading over the fine print. I wasn’t going to tell him not to worry, because he was right. The numbers were worse than I thought. I was going to have to study these and then give clear direction.
“Where would you suggest I begin?” I asked.
“I’d sell off one of the entities. The airline, the shipping company, or the leasing agency. I’d boost your personnel security contracts since they are the most lucrative, and frankly, they are the most vulnerable. You might consider using some of your sales to hire a Washington PR company.”
“I’ve never had one before. You think it’s wise to do that now? Start a new project?”
He shrugged. “You need to protect your personal connections with your higher ups. You need those contracts. It’s the fuel that makes everything else run smoothly. Your friendship with the Vice President, the Secretary of State—you need to make sure they are solid.”
He was right. I needed to reassure myself things were that bad, first.
“And,” Frank started, placing his hands on the table. “I know you’ve never considered this, but it would be a good idea to cultivate some contracts with the Kingdoms.”
“No. No non-US.”
“But Clearwater and Red Dog are making big inroads into that,” he argued.
“You don’t know their numbers, Frank, or do you?”
“No, sir—Marco. I don’t. I have nothing to go by except what I see in the papers, and the contract bulletins.”
“And you don’t know the casualties they are suffering, do you?”
“No, Marco.”
“They put their men and women in bad places. I won’t do that. I don’t care how bad ass we are. I won’t do that.”
He leaned back in the chair, and I knew there was something else.
“What is it?”
“Yesterday, I got a call from Senator Campbell. He asked me point blank if you were interested in meeting with a delegation from the Kingdom of Bonin. They have just signed on to bankroll a housing project in North Africa. They are going to need security for their royal family as they negotiate and follow-up on these projects.”
“So? I’ll meet with them, but I’ve never had to take one of those jobs before. I usually collect a referral fee and send it to someone else.”
“I understand, but Senator Campbell said he was hesitant to refer them to you. He had questions. He asked me if your recent setbacks had caused you to lose your nerve.”
I was ready to toss the paperwork, the table and all four chairs out the large window overlooking the bustling street outside.
Hadn’t Frank ever heard the term, “Don’t shoot the messenger?”
Chapter 4
Shannon
I waited two days before flying home to St. Pete. My body still rumbled—shaking, really, from the insides of my core all the way to my toes. I’d stepped into forbidden territory, yet something was so satisfying about it, I was a moth to the flame. It might destroy me, but I’d accomplished what I set out to do, and now, unexpectedly, I wanted more. So much more.
After Emily’s death, Mom and Dad moved to Florida once I left for college a few years later. They joined an active adult community in order to fill that horrible void left with Em’s passing. I was grateful the burden didn’t fall on me, because I was also reeling from my older sister’s untimely death. Those were strange years, finishing up high school and then applying to colleges with as much direction as a rudderless boat. The house had been so quiet without her. My mother rarely smiled, and my dad drank more. Never one for many words anyway, he retreated into a darkness that was so black it threatened to take me with it.