Grady sighed, giving in. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
GRADY hadn’t yet had the opportunity to visit Peter Marconi’s home, even though he and Sophie had been together for almost eight months. The handful of times he’d seen the man, it had been at Sophie’s much smaller split-level ranch. Grady preferred it that way.
Peter’s home – more of a mansion, really – was located on the Lake St. Clair side of Lakeshore Drive in the ritzy Grosse Pointe area. When they pulled in through the wrought-iron gates, Grady fixed Sophie with an incredulous look. “You lived here?”
“For several years,” Sophie said. “It’s homier than it looks.”
“It’s something,” Grady said. “I don’t even know what to say about it.”
“Just compliment it,” Sophie said. “He loves this place, and he’s proud of it.”
“And who are those guys?” Grady asked, pointing at the two men in suits – both with noticeable bulges underneath their jackets. “Are those cousins?”
“Don’t be cute,” Sophie said. “They’re security. If you’re uncomfortable going in there, you can wait out here. I have no idea how long I’ll be.”
“I’m coming,” Grady grumbled, pushing the door of his truck open. “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”
“Peter would never hurt me.”
“Whatever,” Grady muttered.
Peter Marconi, a red smoking jacket offsetting his graying hair, met them at the door. Grady had to swallow the urge to cough the word ‘stereotype’ into his hand when he caught sight of the man. Sophie greeted her foster father with a warm hug, while Grady opted to give him a stiff handshake.
“Mr. Hardy,” Peter said, nodding. “I see you’re still shadowing my Sophie.”
“I’m trying,” Grady said. “She’s not easy to shadow sometimes. She doesn’t like being smothered.”
“She’s a firecracker,” Peter agreed, ushering them inside.
After a quick tour, which Peter insisted on, the three of them settled into his personal library. Peter sat in the chair behind his desk, while Sophie and Grady opted for seats on the other side.
“So, how can I help you?”
“I need financial information,” Sophie said, catching Peter up on the past month of their lives as quickly as possible.
When she was done, Peter was thoughtful. “And you think this Cole Gordon will have a money transfer in an account?”
“I do,” Sophie said. “We need to find it.”
“Because you want to figure out who hired him,” Peter said. “You’re always thinking.”
“The thing is, I can’t access that information,” Sophie said. “I’m sure the cops will at some point, or maybe I’m giving them too much credit, but I’m not working on their timetable. I don’t think that Mandy has that much time.”
“And you like this Mandy?”
“She’s my friend,” Sophie said. “She’s … she’s like family.”
“Okay,” Peter said, not offering any argument. “Let’s see what my man can find.”
“I would start with the three banks in Mount Clemens,” Sophie suggested. “He would want to stay close to the funds.”
“Let me make a call.”
TWO HOURS and one big lunch later, one of the men from the front door walked into the dining room and dropped a file onto the table next to Peter Marconi. Grady watched the exchange, which essentially amounted to Peter giving the man some sort of silent order which resulted in the guard leaving the room wordlessly.
“You’ve got them on a tight leash, huh?”
Sophie kicked Grady swiftly under the table. “Don’t.”
Grady rubbed his knee, never taking his eyes from Peter’s face.
“There are different ways to run a business, son,” Peter said. “I run mine in a specific manner. I’m sure you and your brothers have your own way of running a business. What works for you probably wouldn’t work for me.”
Peter flipped open the file, scanning the documents inside. “Well, my dear, it seems you were right. I don’t know why I even bother to doubt you anymore.”
“Me either,” Sophie teased. “What did he find?”
“Cole Gordon has an account at Fifth Third bank,” Peter replied. “It was opened six years ago, and there’s been minimal activity on the account for the bulk of that time.”
“But?” Sophie prodded.
“Four weeks ago, there was a wire transfer into the account. It was one lump sum, and it was for twenty grand.”