Yeah, I doubt that.
“Black,” Reardon says into the phone. “How’s the golf game?”
“I don’t play golf, Reardon. You know that.”
He laughs. “Yes, of course. What can I do for you?”
“You can call off that derelict son of yours and his pal Ramirez. I know what’s going on at your firm, and it’s going to stop.”
A slight pause. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do. I’ve heard the rumors, Beau. It may interest you to know that there’s a young lady in the hospital who was poisoned by Garrett Ramirez. Poisoned and probably raped.”
“I assure you that—”
“Save it.” I scoff. “I’ve known how you get your lucrative contracts for some time. I chose to look the other way. But now you’re hurting women, you motherfucker. I’m bringing you down.”
“I’ll say it again. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Silence then.
The call dropped.
Or he hung up. Probably the latter.
Doesn’t matter. I’ll find the proof I need.
And in the meantime…
Those degenerates are going to be punished.
…
Skye doesn’t talk much on the way back to my place.
But once the elevator door closes—
“What did you mean back there when you said you’ve looked the other way far too long?”
I sigh. “Remember when I showed up at the MADD gala, and Peter Reardon stayed away from you after that?”
“How could I forget?”
“I didn’t want you with him because I wanted you, but that wasn’t the only reason.”
“Oh?”
“I’d already decided his father’s firm wasn’t going to get my contract, even though their bid came in the lowest.”
“Are they not good architects?”
“They’re excellent architects, actually. I just don’t like the way they do business.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“They’re not the most ethical people, and it begins at the top with Peter’s father, Beau Reardon.”
“Braden, Betsy is dating Peter now. And they got cuddly awfully quickly. You don’t think…?”