Page 33 of Billionaire Corruption

Paul

As I came into my kitchen for water after a grueling workout, I heard my buzzer going crazy at the door.

It sounded like someone had their finger on the button continuously.

I went over to look at the video screen.

It was my sister, Elise.

“Jesus, Elise, what the fuck?!”

“I’ve been buzzing you for ten minutes!” My sister’s face appeared large on the screen. She was clearly upset.

“I’ve been exercising.” I looked at my watch. “It’s eleven o’clock at night! Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Very funny, let me in.”

I unlocked the door and waited for her to come into the apartment. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually been here. We weren’t exactly the sort of family who dropped in on each other.

She came in, dressed casually in sweatpants, and wanted to give me a kiss on the cheek, then noticing my post-workout sweat, pulled a face. I had done a ten-kilometer run on the treadmill at the top speed. I felt good though, I was still sweating, and wiped my face with my sweat towel.

“What’s up?” I asked, handing her a water from my fridge.

“Mom and Dad are worried about you,” she said.

“Why?”

“You’re not answering your phone, not returning messages.”

“I’ve kept my phone switched off,” I said. “I must have missed it.”

She gave me a disbelieving look. “C’mon,” she said, “What’s going on?”

“Did mom send you over here?”

I knew my parents would not come to my apartment and they knew very well that I would open the door for Elise. We had been fairly close growing up. Even though we didn’t see each other often, we still got on well.

Elise rolled her eyes. “You know she did.”

I chuckled with her.

“So, are you going to tell me or what?”

I walked over to my living room, to the windows overlooking the city. I was thinking how to respond to her question. I had made a shocking discovery the day before. Don had sent me some information about the Mexican operation. I found the deal for a shopping mall development here had been handled by a local firm. But when I pulled information on the firm that did the paperwork, I saw it was a US firm, Connecter, which was owned by an accounting conglomerate, AcconTerra. Something about the name was familiar. When I looked for the owners of AcconTerra, I saw there was only one director, FS McKinney. My father. Frank Stanley McKinney. I couldn’t believe it.

I didn’t know my father was involved in any of Ladden’s business. We never spoke about work, he hardly ever even asked about it. However, looking at the financial records of our operations in Mexico, he had been involved in all the agreements made on behalf of the company. I looked at the numbers, his firm had made millions. I wasn’t sure how he had managed to land the contracts and I had asked Don to look into who handled the contracts for Mexico before FSM took over.

She came up behind me, came to stand next to me.

“Is this about Dad?” she asked.

“Why would you say that?”

She pulled a face. “Mom said something about this IRS investigation and how it was getting serious. Is it?”

“It’s work, Elise.” I cut her off, rather brusquely. It was my way of telling her to keep her nose out of my business.

“She’s concerned about Dad,” my sister said. “Apparently, he’s been spending his nights in the study, making calls, shutting her out. I almost get the feeling she thinks you might know.”

---