He wasn’t an expert on manipulation, but he knew how to do it.
When she returned an hour later, white-faced and wide-eyed, Dante immediately regretted his selfishness. Except Alex chose that moment to tumble down the stairs and crack his head in his eagerness to reach her, and they both panicked together.
Seventeen: Evie
Afterthought,South Carolina
“We haven’t donethis in a while.” Evie set a platter of pizza rolls on the pool table in the cellar where Reuben had taken up residence. Originally her aunt’s Victorian coal and storage cellar, it had been converted to a man cave in the 1970s.
Reuben had taken it to space-age levels with more tech equipment than she’d known existed. He’d even had a separate electric line run in. She expected solar panels on the roof any day.
This afternoon, he was running security camera footage from the night of KK’s death on a big screen TV while they all found food and seats.
“Not needing a team meeting until now is good, right?” Jax grabbed a beer from the turquoise refrigerator Rube had bought from the thrift store. “It means we’re all working and solvent for a change.”
“It means we haven’t had a juicy case in months.” Reuben performed magic and the TV screen split into footage from different cameras.
“I’m thinking one juicy case every few months is all I can take.” Evie settled into the plush sofa and studied the half dozen images flashing on the screen. “Kit-Kat has to be the most useless ghost I’ve ever been saddled with. I can’t even figure out what’s keeping her here since she doesn’t seem to be fully aware that she was murdered.”
“Too stupid to move on?” Jax sprawled on the cushion next to her with his laptop and beer. “I’m not a Brit lawyer, but it looks to me like KK and Lucia are personally liable for most of the company’s debt. The shares are not publicly held. The top tier of company stock is evenly divided between the officers, but the loan documents are signed personally by KK and Lucia. That’s not very bright. Incorporation should shield officers. It’s as if the banks refused to recognize the company.”
Roark had taken his usual place in one of the computer chairs. He had Jax’s sister connected in a corner of his computer screen, but Ariel wasn’t paying much attention. She was a numbers person, not a conversationalist. She probably had the sound turned off.
“Lucia’s farm is the basic collateral for their growing pyramid of loans, and that’s in her name, not the corporation.” The big Cajun opened a spread sheet on the computer. “The company buys her farm’s olive oil. Then they borrow against the oil to manufacture the lotions and other crap. When sales are good, everyone gets paid. When they’re not, they borrow against inventory.”
“People, folks, I need people,” Evie reminded them. “Reuben, slow down those images and help me walk through Kit-Kat’s arrival at the party.”
He rolled the cameras back to the hour the festivities started. “The Beautiful People all arrived in a block-long limo. I’ve always wanted to ride in one of those.”
“Claustrophobic cave,” Jax scoffed.
“And you know this how?” Evie helped herself to popcorn from Reuben’s machine.
“Prom night. Bunch of us pooled our life savings. Booze and babes in a dark cave. Never letting Loretta do that.”
Evie stifled a giggle and rolled her finger to indicate rolling the video forward. “So, we have Vincent entering with the first store clerk I met, the one KK calls his whore. Does she have a name?”
“Rhonda Tart, if you believe that. Owns some of the bottom tier of stock they’re selling to employees.” Roark printed out a list, made a paper airplane, and shot it at Evie.
She took another handful of popcorn, ignored the list of stockholders, and watched the rest of the limo party spill into the fashion factory’s foyer. “KK and Nick enter together, not looking cozy. Everyone looks angry, don’t they? Any background on him?”
“Nicolas Gladwell, Vincent’s cousin’s youngest troublemaker son. Marketing major, ran up against the law as an adolescent, couldn’t land a job until good ol’ Cousin Vin took him in. Vincent’s family is large and mostly of dubious character,” Roark reported. “They own the warehouses where the olive oil and inventory are stored. Been raided a time or two for illegal goods before dey started Bella Gente.”
KK’s aura rippled in angry, confused colors as she floated around the room, apparently examining Rube’s non-existent décor. Evie had to keep half her attention on the ghost for fear she’d destroy delicate equipment.
“All right, so these two big oafs entering with Matt? Related also?” She studied the two men she’d labeled as male models.
“His boyfriends,” Rube said, chomping into a pizza roll. “They both live with him and pose for ads in return. Why did I never think of a ménage a trois as a means of keeping a roof over my head?”
Evie flung popcorn at him. “Because brains get you further, faster, and with less drama. Do they own employee stock too?”
“Matt owns prime stock. Tweedle Dee and Dum don’t have money to invest. They may actually be bodyguards,” Roark suggested. “They have security backgrounds.”
Jax whistled with interest and typed notes.
“All right, then here comes the fun part.” Evie did her best to focus on the various images scrolling across the screen. “Larraine invites them all back to her private office while us peons begin to fill the lobby and guzzle cheap champagne wearing our silly suits. Do we have footage of that meeting?”
“Nope, uh, no way.” Rube enlarged the frame of the limo party strolling down a corridor and entering an office. “Larraine refuses to allow cameras in her office. I’ve warned her about that.”
