Page 61 of Billionaire Corruption

"Do you remember when Dad used to take us to the ball game on weekends?" I asked.

Elise handed me a beer, nodding.

“I used to love that, time alone with him, not talking about school or grades or what we wanted to do one day,” she said. “Or the importance of the McKinney name, the family reputation, all that rubbish about grandpa.” She rolled her eyes, laughing.

I thought back.

“What was your take on it anyway, on grandpa and Uncle Richard?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

I knew I had to just come out and say it.

“The family, you know, being dodgy, really.”

“What?”

Elise started at me, shocked.

“C’mon, you didn’t think that there was anything going with the McKinneys? Something illegal?”

She stared at me.

“All the restaurants and bars, the bouncers, and the fights? You didn’t think it was strange that there were all these men at Uncle Rich’s house, that they’d disappear into rooms and talk for hours on end. People coming and going, nodding to each other, that sort of thing?”

“Well…” Elise was clearly uncomfortable. “Dad didn’t like to go there, I remember, I thought he didn’t want to be reminded about his childhood. He felt he’d moved on, up in the world.”

“So, you didn’t think there was anything illegal going on there?”

She bit her lip. “Maybe? I guess I didn’t want to know?”

I admitted, “I’ve always had my suspicions, about grandpa at least, but I always thought that Dad was mostly, well, you know, clean.”

“And he isn’t?”

Elise and I had never had this kind of honest conversation before.

“No,” I finally said. “Mom admitted it to me the other night, how dad tried to get out, go legal. But it’s more than that. I think Uncle Rich is still involved in it. All sorts of stuff, and it’s tied up in Ladden, it’s a disaster.”

“I’m sorry,” Elise said, biting her lip. “That really sucks.”

I laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”

“So… how bad is it?”

“I don’t know. All kinds of people are getting involved. High up. But people are getting hurt too, people I care about.”

“What do you mean, people are getting hurt?” She sat forward on the couch, a frown on her face.

I told her about Grace and the car that nearly hit her.

“Who’s responsible? Not… you’re not thinking…Uncle Richard?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think.”

She was quiet for a long time.

“I remember, being in high school, I think you were in college already? One summer, we went to the Hamptons, just me and mom, renting this house on the coast. It was beautiful, I loved it. Dad would come over weekends. One evening, I heard them talking, he said he wanted Uncle Rich to come for a few days, visit us. Mom said something like, ‘I told you, not in my house’. Ever.”

---