Page 109 of Luck of the Devil
I drew in a sharp breath. “Here’s our connection to Ambrose.”
“And a surname for the mysterious Richard.”
A search for Hollow Ridge Development showed they had bought and sold multiple properties, and the accompanying sales spreadsheet showed that the properties had been sold for excessive profit. The corporation had been formed about thirty years ago, which meant my father had already been in deep while Andi and I thought he was Father of the Year.
“The question,” I said carefully, letting it all sink in, “is whether Hollow Ridge started out clean and turned dirty later.”
“And if it started out clean, was it turning corrupt that made them get rid of their partner, Ambrose?” James asked.
“Ambrose was killed twenty-five years ago,” I said. “Let’s see when it first started to look shady.”
We examined the spreadsheet. The first suspicious sale was twenty-six years ago, and it had closed two weeks after Ambrose’s “accident.”
“This doesn’t prove anything,” I said with a groan. “The timing sure as hell is suspicious, but it’s not enough to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
“Who says you need a jury?” James asked, his tone low and dangerous.
My blood turned cold. “We’re talking about my father, James.”
He held my gaze. “It’s not just your father. This goes deeper than him. I know it in my gut.”
I suspected his gut was right most of the time. He couldn’t have gotten so far in the criminal world otherwise. Especially with a ruthless, international organization like the Hardshaw Group.
The next page was a folded newspaper page, the paper yellowed and the print slightly faded. At the top left was a newspaper article about Dale Ambrose’s car accident. In the margin, my mother had written Hannah heard P talking to R two weeks prior.
My mother had believed her sister and still cut her out of her life? Had she done it because she didn’t want her sister judging her, or had she done it to protect her?
Had she been trying to protect all of us?
There were still a few more papers, so I moved on and studied the next contract. Everything else had been in chronological order, but this one was more recent. It was dated last September, and it recorded the purchase of a building in Little Rock. The seller’s name was Black Claw, LLC.
James tensed but didn’t say anything. I shot him a questioning glance. Obviously the transaction meant something to him, but he kept it to himself as he turned the page.
Documentation for the creation of Black Claw was next, and of course it had been filed in New Mexico. I scrolled through the paperwork until I came to the names of the principal, Gerald Knox.
“Do you know who that is?” I turned to look at James. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the look on his face. His shoulders were locked, and every muscle in his body had gone rigid. “Malcolm?”
The corner of his mouth hitched up ever so slightly. “I think we just found J.R. Simmons’s replacement.”
Malcolm’s reaction told me what I’d already suspected.
Gerald Knox was a hell of a lot worse.
Chapter 29
I rolled the name around in my head for a few seconds. “I’ve never heard of him. It seems like I would have when I was a cop if he’s that powerful.”
“Not necessarily,” James said, leaning back in his seat. “He likes to keep a low profile. He uses shell corporations and acts as a silent partner in a lot of businesses. I guarantee you Black Claw isn’t his only secret LLC.”
“So what makes you think he’s taken over for Simmons?”
He tapped the address on the contract. “Simmons used to own this place. It’s one hell of a coincidence that Knox is selling a property Simmons once owned.”
“You think he bought it after Simmons died?”
“Or he was already a silent partner.”
“What did Simmons do with it?”
