TWENTY-SIX - Alana

TWENTY-SIX

Alana

Ireceive orders from my father that I'll be joining Cal Sokolov for dinner the following night to discuss our merger as I ride the elevator up to Nico's penthouse, along with a rather smug note that Thorn is dining with the Rendales this evening. My father believes they're trying to consolidate power, and apparently his spies within TimeGem agree.

The idea makes my stomach feel like I've been gut punched. Hard.

My cousin lives only a few blocks from headquarters in a condominium tower that is a modern marvel of glass and steel.

I tap my foot, with Quinlan busily texting on one side of me and Ella reading her phone on the other. While I'm dressed in my customary yellow skirt and white top with both aquamarine and rose quartz jewelry, I'm not surprised to see Quinlan wearing an aquamarine-crested watch. "Scarlett couldn't make it?" I ask.

He pauses mid-text. "No. She's working."

Right. "She doesn't like me much, does she?" The girl-power statement at the bar notwithstanding.

He shrugs. "She likes you fine, but we've been excluded from Aquarius Social for years, and it's going to take some time for all of us, you know?"

Considering my father runs the business and not me, I guess. Sighing, I turn my phone back on since I'd left it off the night before. Stubbornly, to be honest. I'm not surprised to see texts from Thorn, and my breath quickens.

THORN: Meet me and take your punishment now.

THORN: For every text you ignore, I'm withholding an orgasm.

THORN: If your phone is off, you won't sit for a month.

THORN: You didn't learn your lesson the other night. See you soon.

I shiver and fight the very real urge to text an apology. But that's crazy. He doesn't deserve one, and my sense of self-preservation obviously isn't as strong as I thought.

The door opens and we walk into the vestibule of the penthouse where Nico is waiting. As usual, he's dressed in a three-piece suit.

He looks us over. "So, Nancy Drew and her posse have arrived."

Ella looks up from her phone, a light peach dusting her cheekbones. "Hi, Nico."

His grin is charming. "Hi, El. I have some of the kombucha you like in the fridge."

I look from one to the other. "How do you know what she likes?"

"I keep track," he says, and her blush deepens. "I'm glad you came. We need your computer skills."

At the mention, I lose any amusement. The idea that somebody possibly murdered my brother creates a palpable tension.

Nico gestures us into the heart of his condo, which is a wide living area with floor-to-ceiling windows that grant a breathtaking view of Silicon Valley. The dark hardwood floors emphasize the minimalist decor. Nico likes things contemporary, from his plasma TV over the utilitarian fireplace to the plush light gray furnishings.

"Do I still have my beer in your fridge?" Quinlan asks, his gaze solidly on the TV.

"Yes. I don't drink that swill." Nico gestures us beyond the living area to another room. "I'm set up in here."

Anticipation thrills through my veins. I like the idea of investigating a crime. If I hadn't been so entrenched in Aquarius Social, I might have pursued a line of work as a private detective or maybe even a spy, though I'm not a very good liar, so probably not. But this is personal, and nobody cares about finding the truth more than family.

We stride into the adjoining room, which Nico has used as an office from the day he moved in. A set of windows frame Silicon Valley, opposite an oak and glass desk with matching credenza. The wall across from us has been cleared, and Nico has created one of those murder boards like I've seen on mystery television shows.

In the center, he has Greg's picture and then lines drawn on the light gray paint to other people, including the coroner, a police officer, and then a row of suspects. My heart jolts when I see Thorn as one of the suspects, as well as the owners of the other two social media companies. I reach for a file folder on the desk and start flipping through it to see a timeline of Greg's movements within the week preceding his death.

"What do you have?" Ella asks, claiming the only chair and plopping onto it.

"Not a lot." Nico walks over to pictures depicting the lethal car accident, including the crumpled-up BMW. Greg loved that vehicle. I rub my chest because suddenly it hurts even worse.

"If you look at the accident report," Nico says, "there are no skid marks. So it appears as if he just drove right off Vulture Perch at about a hundred miles an hour. Greg was sober that night and he had excellent reflexes."

Quinlan moves close to the board. "I agree. Greg was drinking water that night, even before I left."

Ella finally looks up from her phone. "There has to be more."

Nico's gaze narrows on her. "Greg had been receiving threats for the last year or so. Never digital, which makes sense."

"Threats?" I ask. "I didn't know anything about those."

Nico's chest expands as he employs that deep breathing technique both he and Greg used all the time. "I know. I'm not sure he even told your old man. The threats annoyed Greg but he wasn't worried."

In the time we'd spent together, not once had I caught a whiff of concern from my brother. "What kind of threats?"

"The usual: You're a capitalistic pig, you need to die, you're going to burn in the bowels of hell," Nico says without much emotion. "He showed me a couple of them, but when we helped clean out his apartment after his death, I didn't see them."

Those two days still haunt me. "Neither did I." But I wasn't looking, either. "Have you searched his office?"

"Of course." Nico rubs his left eye. "Nothing. Seriously, it was Greg. He probably threw them away."

That's true. If the notes irritated him, he would've just tossed them.

Ella taps a finger against her red lips. "The directors and higher-up employees at all of the social media companies receive threats all the time. That's why we have security."

Good point.

"Tell us about the night he died," she murmurs. "I haven't heard the full story from you."

Nico's eyes are somber. "We went out to celebrate the new algorithms we created to speed up the servers. We were in a good mood. We went to the Green Train Tavern just down the street from work and were having a great time." He points at pictures of three women on the other side of the accident pictures on his wall. "Those are the three women I believe Greg was dating at the time of his death, but there could be more." All three are blonde with green eyes. Beneath their pictures are names and occupations.

"Anything there?" I ask.

"Not that I've found," Nico says. "I've spoken with all three and they're pretty cut up about Greg's death, but none of them thought he was exclusive with them. They all had hopes, though."

My brother was a charmer, a quality I loved about him. "Yeah, I remember that. Everybody had hopes with Greg. But he was never going to settle down," I say.

"Agreed," Nico says. "That night, however, we did run into Corinda Rendale."

My head jerks. "You did? I didn't know that."

"That's because nobody's talking about Greg's death," Nico shoots back. "I know your father is also investigating, but every source I have at the police department has said that this case is closed."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive," Ella says, pushing her glasses up on her nose. "It's quite possible there is no case with the authorities and Mr. Beaumont is pursuing his own leads. It is the way the four families have conducted business ever since we were living in caves and hitting mega beasts over the head for dinner."

I look again at the picture of my brother on the wall. If he were here, he would know exactly how to pursue this investigation. Instead, I really do feel like Nancy Drew. "So what do we do?"

Nico glances at me. "You need to get all of the details from your father. He has to know more than we do."

"Then why not let him figure it out?" Ella twirls on the chair. "Mathias has the best resources, and I'm sure if he finds out that somebody killed Greg, he'll take them down."

"Because I need to know," Nico says bleakly. "I was with Greg that night, and if I hadn't had so much to drink, I could have driven myself here and he would have made it home safely." The guilt on his face is heart-wrenching.

I reach out and pat his hand. "We'll help you." Plus, I won't admit this to anybody, but my father would probably just have the killer murdered. If somebody hurt my brother, I want them to pay and go to jail for the rest of their lives. I want them to suffer, not die. "I'll help you, Nico. I promise."

Relief slides across his face.

Ella claps her hands together. "All right, I'll start hacking into both Mathias's and the police computers, just in case there's anything that has been missed. I really need you to get me access, Alana."

I nod. "I understand. I'll need to go to headquarters to do so. In addition, I'll talk to Thorn and Cal and feel them both out to see if they know anything."

Nico shakes his head. "I don't want you anywhere near Thorn."

"I agree," Ella chirps up. "The guy's bad news and you know it."

"Yes, but I think he'll tell me the truth." Except, do I? I look at Nico. "Was Corinda hitting on you or Greg that night?"

Nico crosses his arms. "Mainly Greg, but she did smile at me. Maybe I'll call her and ask her to lunch."

"That's a good idea." I don't have any way of getting into the Rendale brain trust. They hate Ella, so she can't be helpful, either.

"So that takes care of the other social media companies as well as the women who were dating Greg," Quinlan says thoughtfully, his brown eyes sizzling. "I'll scour records at work for any threats within Aquarius Social. Greg was an excellent computer programmer, and more than once he caught a foolish employee trying to siphon off funds. I'll go through all of his data and make sure there wasn't a threat from within."

"Excellent plan." My head's starting to pound. The idea that somebody took Greg's life infuriates me, and I wonder again why my father doesn't trust me. Does he see me as a simpleton? I don't think so because he put me on the board, or perhaps he just thinks he can control me that way. I am, however, going to dinner with Cal Sokolov, just as he asked.

I walk out of the office to the main room and move closer to the windows to study the chrome and glass and wealth of Silicon Valley. From a distance it looks sparkling. Up close, it's cold, desolate, and computerized. I shiver. No wonder Thorn moved a half hour away to the ocean where he can hear the waves and smell the salt.

"Are you okay?" Nico asks.

I look at him. "I am. It's just been a long week."

He chuckles. "Isn't that the truth?"

I grin. "Hey, tell you what, I need to emote a video. How about you and I do it together with this background behind us?" He's a handsome man with that whole sharp Italian look going on. "You're not in front of the camera nearly enough."

He rolls his eyes. "That is not my thing."

"Yeah, but it could be. I bet you video well. Let's do one together and see what kind of reach we get. I need to grow our user base. Come on, Nico. What do you say?"

He sighs heavily. "All right. If you think it'll help Aquarius, you know I'll do it."

"I do," I say, hopping. "Why don't you ask me about Thorn?"

His dark brows draw down. "I'm not one to talk about Thorn Beathach."

"Too bad, because we're getting a lot of play anytime I talk about him. So let's have a little discussion, you and me—I promise it'll be painless."

Nico looks like I'm asking him to give up a testicle, but I know he'll do it. And yeah, this'll piss Thorn off even more. Who cares? Wouldn't it be just terrible if he's in a horrid mood when he goes on his date with the Rendale sisters tonight?