Page 79 of Devil's Riches

“Yes.”

“Call him. Ask to meet.”

Annalise was silent for a long moment. Then she slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s too dangerous. He’ll know something is up.”

Nate leaned down to mutter in my ear. “Fuck it. Let’s go back to our list. It shouldn’t be too hard to find someone with those initials.”

I nodded and tossed the rest of the granola bar to the floor for Annalise and Greg to share. “Thanks for your help,” I said, giving them a cold smile.

We headed back to the mansion and went straight to our spot in the library. Nate pulled up our copy of Avalon’s Rich List.

“Can you Google the Radcliffe family?” he asked. “See if you can find any guys with names that start with J. I’ll do the Remingtons.”

I managed to locate an online family tree for the Radcliffe family a few minutes later. “There’s a James Radcliffe,” I said, excitement making the hairs on my arms prick up. “Born in 1931. That sounds promising.”

“Does he still live on Avalon?”

I clicked on the hyperlink on his name. “Not exactly,” I said, shoulders slumping. “Apparently he died in a plane crash in the eighties. So he’s buried on Avalon, but that’s it.”

“Shit,” Nate muttered. “Wait, there’s a John Remington.”

“Could he be our J.R?”

Nate tapped on his phone screen a few more times. Then his shoulders slumped. “Nope. Dead as well.”

“Dammit.”

We kept working at our list, searching for anyone with the correct initials. Unfortunately, no one fit. They were either long-dead or far too young to be the Golden Circle leader back in 2009.

“Fuck,” Nate said, slamming his phone down on the table after an hour of research. “There’s literally no one.”

“The J.R. name must be a fake,” I replied, sagging in my seat. “Makes sense, I guess. I mean, if he was trying to hide his identity, why would he use his real initials?”

Nate grunted. “No shit. We should’ve thought of that earlier.”

I twisted my lips and rubbed the back of my neck. “Greg said the guy sounded old in 2009, and the organization was created in the early 1950s, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I’m just wondering if this J.R. guy was actually the original leader, or if the first one had retired by that point and passed it down.”

“Passed it down, I think. Even if he was in his twenties when he founded the Golden Circle with the rest of his family, he would’ve been in his late seventies or early eighties by 2009,” Nate replied. “Probably older, though, because I’d say it’s more likely he was in his thirties or forties when he started everything up. Maybe even older than that. So he’s probably been dead for a long time, and the leader Mom and Greg saw in the board meetings was a different one. The original one’s son, most likely.”

My heart seemed to freeze for a second as his words echoed in my head. Then it began to pound. The smallest seed of an idea was burrowing its way through my brain, but it wasn’t ready to bloom just yet. I knew it had been triggered by something that Nate said a few seconds ago… but which part?

First leader probably dead for a long time… different leader in 2009… original one’s son…

I sat up straight, heart pounding even faster. “Oh, fuck.”

Nate’s forehead creased. “What?”

I licked my dry lips and leaned forward, hands trembling on the table. “I think I know who J.R. is.”

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