Page 399 of Sticks and Stones
As they were walking, the place was huge, and it was also teeming with employees too. They passed a few housekeepers cleaning, and when they reached the kitchen, there was a chef.
Jesus.
The dude was definitely rich.
As they finally reached the kitchen, they were stopped by someone there.
“Mr. Mercer, will your guests be staying for Sunday Brunch?” he asked.
Julian turned around.
“Would you like to join me? It’s in about twenty minutes. We have lobster, caviar, and the lightest, fluffiest eggs known to man.”
Absolutely not.
“No thank you,” Gene said. “We have to visit a police commissioner, but I’m betting you already know that too.”
He laughed.
“Trying to get my source, Agent? I’ll never tell. You both are smart, but you can throw names at me, and I won’t flinch. Anyway, maybe another time—if you have to question me again.”
Gene rolled his eyes for Ethan, but said nothing else. When Julian opened a door that wasn’t far from the kitchen, they were led out to the largest freaking garage he’d ever seen in his life.
Holy shit!
It was hard not to be impressed.
There were at least twenty cars. Unfortunately for them, not a single one was white.
There were red sports cars.
There were black business cars.
There were flashy blue Benzes, but not a white car to be found.
“Are these all of them?” Gene asked.
The man was leaning against a Ferrari as he watched them, and they knew it cost more than both of their yearly salaries.
“I have three more vehicles. One is a limo, and that is currently at the airport with my plane. My sister is coming in tomorrow, and it will be picking her up. The other two are trucks, and they are kept in the other building since they plow the parking area and driveway. The groundskeepers take them home at night most of the time.”
Well, shit.
“And none are at your offices?” Blackhawk asked. “Tied to the businesses so not quite yours, but technically yours?” he asked.
Julian laughed.
“Oh, you’re very smart, Agent. Yes, I own more cars, but I don’t normally drive them. Good question.”
Yeah, and it didn’t answer theirs.
Someone was as slippery as an eel.
Then again, as someone who owned a company of mercenaries…
No.
Shock.
