Repeatedly.
I kept staring, dazed. "So…the company's being sold?" It wasn't really a question – just my brain trying to catch up.
Standing next to me on the sidewalk, Trevor said, "Yeah, that's what it says."
I kept my eyes trained on the paper. There were two photos accompanying the story. The first showed two middle-aged men in rumpled business suits – Marcus and Benny Wexler, according to the caption.
I hadn't met either of them face-to-face, but Ihadspoken to Benny by phone.
I'd even been to the company's place of business – a shabby little office in Mackinaw City. I'd been meeting with a woman named Gail, who until recently had given me nothing but bad news.
But forgether. The way it looked, she was just a low-level lackey doing her job.
Apparently, Marcus and Benny were the sole owners of Bridge and Bay Finance – the same organization that had done my consolidation loan.
My pulse quickened as I considered recent events. Just yesterday, that same company had agreed to refinance everything – my shop, my home, and even my credit cards – under terms that had exceeded my wildest dreams.
But under whose direction?
Griff's?
It sure looked that way – even if it didn't make sense. A sale like that would take weeks to finalize, possibly months.
Right?
Of course, just because the sale hadn't gone through, that didn't mean the new owner wouldn't have some clout.
Either way, it couldn't be a coincidence.
At everything this implied, my fingers loosened around the paper, and it fluttered downward, landing on my shoes. With a muttered curse, I snatched it up and pulled it closer to my eyes so I wouldn't miss a thing.
I scanned the article from top to bottom. The second photo was a generic headshot of Griff wearing a suit and tie.
Except he wasn't called Griff at all.
He was called Montgomery – Montgomery Griffin, to be exact.
No surprise there.
Well…at least not anymore.
Even so, the name landed like a punch to the ribs, reminding me how little I knew.
I was still trying to make sense of it when a finger – Trevor's – tapped the photo of the two men. In a hushed voice, he said, "That's them."
I looked up. "Them who?"
He grimaced. "The two guys who tried to scare me off."
I blinked. "Wait, what?" And then it hit me.Trevor's sudden departure. The fallen bikes. Griff's paranoia – which, the way it looked, wasn't paranoia at all.
My voice shook as I asked, "Are you serious? Why didn't you say something?"
Trevor looked away. "I should've." And then, in a lower voice, he mumbled, "Sorry."
My heart hammered as I asked, "What exactly did they do?"
He shrugged. "They came in, acted all tough, told me it would be bad for my health to stick around – and besides, you were selling the place, anyway."
