Page 39 of Taken By Him

He frowns. “Fine. I’ll keep working on it.” He swivels around in the stool and looks at me. “I suppose you want the information you asked me for.”

“I’m that transparent, am I?”

He deadpans. “To me, you are. I mean, I’d like to think as my older brother, you come into the city for more reasons than just work, but I know you. All you do is work.” He reaches over the bar and pulls out a thick manila folder. “I brought this down when I saw you pull up.” He lays his hand on top of it.

“What is it?” I sigh. My brother has a flair for the dramatic. I usually play into it because he knows things I don’t about people. He listens to the gossip, knows who is doing what. I don’t have to do those things because he does them for me.

“Kasia has been working with a private detective for the last year.” He is also a man who can get straight to the point when needed.

“What?” I reach for the folder, but he swipes it away.

“She’s been paying him a monthly fee, but the guy’s a washed-up asshole. He takes her money but doesn’t do shit.”

“What does she want him to do?” I ask. Private detectives have contacts in the police department. Having men like him poking around families like mine and Kasia’s father isn’t safe. She should know better.

“She wants him to find who was involved in the car accident. Apparently, she doesn’t believe it was just some drunk.” He finally slides the folder over to me. “What’s in here is his contact information, some of the snapshots I got of him, and a few police reports. He has a rap sheet almost as long as mine.” He smirks.

I flip through the folder. “What did you find in her emails?” After finding her in my office and seeing that bogus email account on the screen, I asked Jakub to find the real one. I knew she was hiding something, and I was right.

“Mostly just emails to this DeGrazio asshole. She used it for school, so there was a bunch of stuff to and from her professors.”

“And her texts?” I push. She’s not going to like that I’ve dug so hard into her life, but the means justify it.

“More of the same. A few messages to the detective wondering if he had anything — after he doesn’t answer her emails. A few to a study group. She could have deleted anything important, but I doubt it.”

“Why?” I ask, curious of his opinion.

He shrugs. “She doesn’t exactly live the most exciting life. Her calendar was filled with school shit, tests, paper dates, graduation stuff. Contact list was short; other than Marcin she had maybe half a dozen personal contacts. Everything else was professional shit.”

“Marcin kept her sheltered,” I say, but there’s more to it than that. People are just like things, easily taken away. If she’d surrounded herself with a lot of friends Marcin could use them against her. He could block her from them if she didn’t play his games right.

“How are things with her anyway? I mean, you tie the knot last night but you’re here doing business today?”

“She’ll settle in. It will be fine.” I check the time.

“Have you talked with Dad recently?” he asks, lowering his voice even though we’re the only ones in the room. The girls have all gone off to put on the next uniform option.

“A few days ago. I talked with his attorney this morning, that’s where I just came from. He’s confident he’ll have it all squared away by the end of the month.”

“Next time you go to the lawyer, I want to go with.” He raises his chin. “I should know what’s going on, too.” There’s a hint of defensiveness in his tone, but I don’t argue with him. He’s the second son and has spent more time partying than getting down to business. But I can’t deny he’s starting to come around.

“Of course. I’ll let you know. The whole case is bullshit. They have no tangible evidence. They audited the books and came up with nothing. Not a single receipt was out of balance.” That’s why we pay the number crunchers so fucking well. “It’s all just a campaign to cause trouble. Marcin’s behind it, I know it. He stands to get everything if our family is hit hard. They’ll give him our territories and none of his businesses will roll to us when he dies.” Which is going to be a lot sooner than the fucker thinks, if I can prove he’s behind the witch hunt that sent my father into hiding.

“And this shit with Marcin?” he prods.

“I have almost enough condemning information. Once everything’s cleared here, we can take it to the old men back home.” It’s not much, an overheard conversation. I need the money trail, and as soon as I get that it will be locked.

“You look ready to bolt; you need to be somewhere?” He pushes my shoulder. “I have two more uniforms to show you.”

“You’ll have to pick it yourself. I have just enough time to make a stop before I need to be at the accountant’s office on the south side. He might have the money trail we need to get permission to move forward. Just send me a picture of the one you like.” I slap his shoulder and grab the folder from the bar top. “Thanks for this, Jakub.”

“Yeah.” He waves me off.” Go. I’ll just sit here and put this damn club together.”

I laugh. He grumbles, but building up clubs is his specialty. He flips night clubs the way real estate moguls do houses. But this time, he’s not flipping it, this time we’re keeping it. Legit businesses are needed in our world, and this one will serve us well.

* * *

ErikDeGrazio, private detective, wasn’t hard to find. When he wasn’t at his office, his secretary pointed toward the dive bar across the street. That’s where I found him. Slumped over a half drunken beer, watching the Cubs getting their asses handed to them on the big screen television. His gray shaggy hair hangs over his ears, and his thick plastic-rimmed glasses slide down his nose. He pushes them back up with his pudgy finger.

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