This was the part of our business we didn’t advertise. Illegal in every way it could be, unethical as all hell. But it paid well, and with our unique talents, our success rate was extremely high. Put simply, union City wanted the painting found. They didn’t want to pay out the money it was insured for, and they didn’t care how the King Agency made sure the job got done. As long as the painting was returned to its owner, they were off the hook.
A lot of insurance companies felt the same way. If the claim was fraudulent, their client sure as hell couldn’t accuse anyone of breaking into their houses and stealing it out from under them if it was already supposed to be missing. They definitely couldn’t say anything when their insurance company called and returned their items with a smile and a “Hey, look what showed up.”
Paying our fee, a fraction of what union City would have to pay out if the painting wasn’t found, was worth it to them. The guys at our agency either confirmed it was insurance fraud, or tracked down the stolen item and stole it back.
Which was what I’d been trying to do tonight, only it turned out a few vital details had been omitted.
I stepped up to my brother’s desk and planted my fists on the surface. “I’m out of patience.”
Van cursed quietly. “Robert Carson is the claimant.”
A chill slid down my spine before it turned to steel. I had to plant my feet so I didn’t dive across his desk and beat the shit out of him. “You don’t see any problem, sending me on a job involving that family, without telling me?” No one in the room missed the quite fury in my voice. Even Zeke stood straighter.
Van casually undid the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolled up his sleeves, eyes never leaving mine. “We think Pierce is behind it.”
My nostrils flared as I sucked in a rough breath at the mention of Pierce, Lulu’s stepfather—and my ex-employer. I’d worked for him for a couple of years on and off while we were getting this place off the ground. Mainly debt collection, but occasionally I provided muscle for the prick, as one of his personal bodyguards. I’d met Lulu shortly after I started.
And I’d wished every day for the last three and a half years that I’d never laid eyes on her.
I choked down the rage. I had no damn choice. If I lost it, they’d close ranks. It’s what they expected me to do, why they hadn’t shared the details of the case.
I clenched my fists at my sides. “And the rest?”
My brother watched me closely, gaze darting to Neco before he spoke. I felt my friend move in closer.
“It was Robert that called in the claim, but the painting was taken from Pierce’s home,” Van said.
“How can Robert claim it if it’s not his?”
Van’s shoulders relaxed a fraction when he realized I wasn’t about to throw down in the middle of his office, and kept talking. “Pierce made sure Robert co-signed every insurance policy . . . every fucking thing he owns. Which isn’t a whole lot, as it happens. Most of it’s tied up in family trusts, belongs to his wife Elizabeth’s family. Their homes were never theirs to begin with. Anyway, we both know Robert’s weak, follows Pierce’s lead like a goddamn puppy, would do anything for his brother, including insurance fraud.”
As much as it pissed me the fuck off, I got it, the secrecy. I understood my brother’s concerns. Anything to do with Lulu’s stepfather was a hot button for me, to put it mildly.
But he’d purposely kept this from me, and even though I understood his reasons, there was no way in hell I was sitting this one out. I couldn’t just do my job, find the painting, and forget the rest.
I crossed my arms. “Pierce has to be pulling the strings.” The guy had gone underground in recent weeks. I didn’t know why yet, but anything that might lead me to him, I was all in. “Selling privately, plus the insurance payout, would set him up nicely.”
Van dipped his chin. “Exactly.”
I had to find that painting. I didn’t know why Pierce needed the money, but I wasn’t letting that asshole get his hands on it. And I sure as hell wasn’t missing the chance to get my hands on the son of a bitch either.
Pierce needing fast money meant he was in deep shit, plain and simple. He’d either vanish, go deeper underground, or use the cash to scrape himself out of trouble. None of those options were acceptable. That fucker was well overdue payback, and any way I could make his life harder—or, better yet, draw him out—was a win for me.
“I’m in.” I locked eyes with my brother. “And if you ever keep shit like this from me again, or send me into a situation like that without all the facts, we’ll have a serious fucking problem.”