Page 10 of Crossing Every Line

“Hinky?”

Shane nodded. “Based on the debt we supposedly have, there’s no way the house and the sale of the business could cover what we owe. Something doesn’t add up.”

“Who bought out the business?”

“That, Kendall Proctor, is a very good question.”

She sat down across from him. “I really wish we had access to a lawyer who understood this and was willing to talk to us.”

“I’ve never had to trust anyone but Jonas. And the fact that everything monetarily is locked down because of the will, I don’t have access to anything.”

“I wish I could cover you, but if there’s any reason for savings, now would be it.”

“I have about four hundred dollars in my personal account.”

Surprised, she smoothed her hands over the papers. “For a rich boy, you’re certainly money poor.”

“I’m not a rich boy, Kendall. I’m a working man just like anyone else. And just like for most people, the economy has sucked the hell out of my free cash.”

She frowned. His gaze slid away at the end of the sentence. He wasn’t telling her something. “We should be able to demand that Jonas give us the details of the will.”

“He’s following Larry’s directive. I honestly don’t know how much we can demand without finding our own lawyer and having him or her read the paperwork. And with the size of this tome?” He sighed. “That’s a grand or so that I don’t have.”

Kendall stood and reached for the carafe. “Looks like we’re going to need a lot of this.”

He grunted a response, and they both settled in to read. Shakespeare was easier to read than the contract. Three hours later they had six separate stacks of papers, and she knew way too much about the construction business. Every blessed tractor, backhoe, truck, and trailer was explained in detail. Her eyes were crossed at the staggering amount of machinery that Justice Construction had. Hell, even the client list was part of the sale.

She dragged her hair out of her face and pushed across the sheet she was reviewing. “Can your client list actually be sold?”

“What?”

She twisted the paper so he could read it. “Right there. At least I think the legal jargon means that.”

He stood and leaned over the table. His large, tanned fingers splayed across the table as he read. She pulled her hand back. She did not need to pay attention to how big or small any of his damn body parts were.

“Son of a fucking bitch.”

She came out of her chair. Excitement thrummed through the room. She rounded the table to stand beside him. “What?”

He riffled through papers. “I saw something—where…” He pushed one stack aside and handed her another. “There’s something in here about the client list as well, but I missed the importance.”

“So it’s not me. That’s weird?”

“That’s hinky.”

There was that word again. She flipped through the pages and scanned for a similar phrase. She couldn’t skim the documents. There was so much hidden in the legal-speak she was afraid she’d miss something. “Wait. Here it is again.”

He turned to her, their shoulders brushing as he read. “That’s it again. There isn’t a legal way for a client list to be given in a sale. Not unless the clients knew ahead of time and agreed to let the contracts be bought out.”

“And do you think they would?”

Shane’s brows snapped down as he focused on her face instead of the papers. Anger burned bright and fierce in his eyes. Instinct told her to take a step back. He looked dangerous and more than a little scary. Instead, she laid her hand on his forearm. His muscles vibrated under her touch.

“Shane?”

“I’m going to kill him.”

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