“He’s not my fiancé yet,” I protest. “You’ve had a terrible day. But I am so happy you’re okay. Get some sleep and I’ll clean this mess up.”
“Okay, moneybags.” Lia hugs me and heads to the bathroom to clean up before bed.
“And stop calling me that.”
She peeks her head out from the bathroom. “Goodnight, moneybags.”
I roll my eyes at her and she giggles before shutting the door. I know the only way to protect Lia is to find whoever did this and make sure they pay. Lia is right in that there’s no point in blaming myself, but I can at least make sure these scumbags are brought to justice. I may be naive about stocks and contracts and shady dealings of the real world, but I know enough to know that money influences the scales of justice, and this fight won’t be won without it.
The next day, Lia and I are meeting Kalin at the police station to talk with Detective O’Donnell. We take a seat in the waiting room and watch the display of human tragedy parade before us—from drug dealers, gang members, prostitutes, and pimps to an occasional capital crime. The white-collar criminals dress with style and panache with their equally polished lawyers, and part of me wonders if they would be harder to convict.
Kalin comes in looking stunning in a navy check jacket, a white cotton shirt unbuttoned enough to see his golden skin and sprinkling of hair, and casual light denim jeans. His thick hair is sleeked back, and wavy strands fall casually around his forehead. His dark whiskers outline the strong angles of his jaw. He looks like he walked off a GQ page, and I suddenly realize that Lia and I are staring at him.
“You look great,” I say, getting up from the chair.
Kalin kisses me on the cheek. “Dressing well couldn’t hurt during a police interrogation. So I hear.” He puts his hands up in mock innocence.
“No bike today?” Lia mutters.
“Not today.” Kalin smiles at her. “Miss Marzella. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Lia glances down and she twists her mouth into a convincing smile while her eyes flick to his.
“Lia, I am so sorry. I had no idea these lowlifes would come after you. I wasn’t thinking, and I’m sorry.”
“Kalin, it’s not your fault. At least as far as we know.” Lia glances at me with a sideways smirk.
“I want to get to the bottom of this. That’s why I’m here. We’re going to find out who did this to you, and make them pay.”
“Mr. Davis, Miss Marzella, Miss Ried, the detective will see you now.” The receptionist peers into the waiting room from the hallway.
Kalin gestures for us to go ahead, and he trails behind us.
“Mr. Davis, I’m Detective Richard O’Donnell.”
“Please to meet you, Detective.”
“Here’s my card. This is an ongoing investigation, Mr. Davis. So if anything new comes up, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“Of course.” Kalin sits next to me and Lia, and places the card in his front pocket.
Kalin and I proceed to brief the detective about everything from our initial meeting about the stock transfer to the break-in at his Southampton home.
“Miss Ried, when you told me yesterday that you’ve only made one new acquaintance over the past few weeks, you failed to mention that it was none other than Mr. Kalin Davis, the founder and CEO of TALVIS Advertising. Estimated worth, two billion dollars. You also failed to tell me that he was preparing to transfer to you twenty percent of the stock. Now I’m no mathematician, but that seems to be a transfer of wealth of, oh, four hundred million dollars.”
The detective paces around the room with his thumbs in his pockets, making the gold police badge on his waist constantly visible.
“Detective, with all due respect, the agreement was confidential, and I instructed Annabelle to keep it that way,” Kalin interjects. “She was understandably hesitant to reveal this information to anyone before speaking with me.”
“Four hundred million dollars plays to motive, don’t you think, Mr. Davis?”
“Four hundred million dollars?” Lia’s mouth drops open, and she shakes her head at me in disbelief. I shrug like I can’t believe any of it myself.
“Oh, I’m sure it plays to motive. Especially with these greedy bastards,” Kalin adds, glancing at me with a knowing look of disgust. “In fact, the reason I showed up here today is to shed some light on what I think happened.”
The detective leans over his desk and glares at Kalin. “Why don’t you do that for us, Mr. Davis.”
“Glad to help, detective. The sad irony is that Lia has the least to do with this. I guess you could say she is guilty of knowing us, or more accurately of knowing Annabelle, who was given this contract by me. As you know, my security team reported a break-in in Southampton at both my home and my yacht. I believe it was a couple of hours before the same men showed up at Lia’s apartment. If you have not received that information, I am sure the police are more than willing to pass it along.”