Secrets of the Demon
Page 41Zack raised an eyebrow. “Would you be so kind as to share with us?”
I grinned, beginning to pace. “Okay, Moran is on the board of Lake Pearl Bank. He loves being on the board of LPB because it makes him popular and powerful. People kiss his ass and do shit for him. He fucking loves that shit.”
“We’ve noticed this,” Ryan remarked, tone dry.
“So, getting kicked off the board would be about the worst thing that could happen to him, in his mind. He wouldn’t be invited to any of these events and parties anymore. People wouldn’t be kissing his ass.”
Zack and Ryan exchanged a baffled glance and I rolled my eyes. “Okay, if you two are going to try and pass your task force off as a financial crimes unit, you need to be up on the financial world.” I stopped pacing. “Though, to give Moran credit, he didn’t actually break any laws. I mean, until he started murdering people. Though he’d probably be in deep shit with the SEC.”
“Kara,” Ryan said tightly. “Would you please get to the point?”
I took a deep breath. “In the banking world, if Bank A is interested in buying Bank B, then, assuming Bank B wants to be bought, Bank B has to disclose all sorts of information, open their books up, that sort of thing. But the catch is that it’s completely secret until the deal goes through. If a member of the bank board lets it slip that the deal is in progress, they can be kicked off the board.”
Jill’s brows drew together. “Why? What’s the deal?”
“Because, if people found out that a bank was in trouble and possibly needed buying out, it could cause a run on the bank. But also, if someone knew that a small bank was going to be bought out—especially if it was by a large bank with more valuable stock—he could conceivably buy up a big chunk of stock in advance of the sale—”
“Insider trading,” she finished with a nod. “Okay. Got it. So Vic found out and started buying stock?”
I shook my head. “Not quite. Moran and Vic were buddies, and I think that Moran let it slip to Vic that Lake Pearl Bank was about to be bought out. And, Vic—nice, charming, wonderful Vic—decided he could make a bundle. But he knew better than to make any purchases himself since it was known that he was friends with Ben, so Vic very nicely offered Roger a loan and the chance to make a huge profit. And Adam Taylor owed Vic money—probably for stuff related to the studio—so Vic convinced Adam to let him make some investments in his name as well.”
Jill made a sour face. “What a sweetheart. Throw everyone else under the bus. He knew perfectly well what he was doing, and I’m sure that after he sold the revalued stock for his ‘clients’ he would have skimmed off a hefty portion of the profit.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” I told Jill.
“And by then it was too late,” I said. “An investigation into insider trading wouldn’t be far behind.”
“It’s nothing illegal,” Ryan said, musing. “But for a guy like Moran, losing that social position would be as bad as going to jail.”
“Right,” I said. “That’s why I don’t think that Moran was complicit in the insider trading, other than being indiscreet. He values that position too much. And somehow Moran can control this golem and sent it to take care of Vic, and then Adam and Roger, in an attempt to clean up the mess. With them dead, there’s no way for anyone to prove that Moran was the one to leak the info about the sale.”
Silence fell for a few ticking heartbeats.
“So,” Jill said finally. “How are you going to prove Moran killed them?”
I looked at her. “I have no fucking idea.”
Zack stood. “And, how does this connect to the attack on Lida?”
I set my hands on my hips. “I have no fucking idea about that either, but can you people at least allow me to feel smug about figuring the murders out? Jeez!”
Jill laughed. “Oh. Yes,” she said in robotic deadpan. “You are so brilliant.”
“Bite me, bitch.” I stuck my tongue out at her.
Zack rubbed a hand over his face. “So what do we do about it?”I sighed. “You mean, how do we prove that Moran sent a magic creature to kill three people? Let’s all say it together: No fucking idea.”
“We need him to confess,” Ryan finally broke the silence. He kept his gaze straight ahead.
A chill washed over me. I’d seen Ryan change people’s memories. Only a few months ago we’d been attacked by a demonic dog-like thing at a restaurant, and he’d done something to the people working there—somehow taking away their awareness of the incident. Can you do that? I wanted desperately to ask. Can you make him confess? No, I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to know if he could do that. “Can you read minds?” I found myself asking instead.
His eyes lifted to mine. I expected to see pain or angst or regret or something in them, but he was as controlled as stone. Nothing was leaking through. “No,” he said evenly. “Many things would be easier if I could.” Then he looked away and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Or perhaps not.”
My gut tightened at the subtle jab. Zack cleared his throat in an obvious attempt to cut the sudden tension. “Arrange a meeting with him,” Zack said. “Maybe something will shake loose.”
“This is so cliché,” I groaned, flopping onto the couch. “So we confront him, or set up a trap or sting or something, and he does the mustache-twirling villain and reveals all? No way. He’s too smart and he has too much at stake.”
“But you have the bank records showing the insider trading. That should give him pause,” Zack insisted.
“Except that we have no proof that he was involved,” I replied, frustration seeping into my voice. “Nothing that we could go to the Securities and Exchange Commission with.”
“What about Lida?” Jill suggested. “You think she’s clueless? Or is she too loyal to her uncle to be willing to share any useful information?”
I hesitated before answering. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “And at this point I have no choice but to pressure her. Maybe that will shake something loose with Uncle Ben.” But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. Ben looked out for Ben.
I stood, thoughts tumbling. “I need to go back to my house. I, um, have something I have to take care of before I do anything else.”
“Let me guess, you’re going to summon Rhyzkahl,” Ryan practically growled. “You’ve already summoned him for the month. What if that golem’s still there?”
Anger flared red hot. This was bullshit. It wasn’t as if I’d set out to insult or hurt Ryan. Fuck him and the way he assumed I was summoning Rhyzkahl. And so what if I was? “You know what, Ryan?” I shot back. “Fuck you. I’m sorry if this pisses you off, but Rhyzkahl saved my fucking life tonight. And yeah, he probably didn’t do it because of some deep and abiding love for me, but he did.”
I was halfway to the sidewalk when I heard the door slam behind me. “Kara! Where are you going?” Ryan demanded.
“To my aunt’s house,” I said over my shoulder, not stopping. “I’m going to borrow her car. Now leave me alone.”
A heartbeat later his hand was on my arm, turning me around. Fury blazed again and I brought my hand up as he spun me, turning it into a slap instead of a punch at the last instant. I knew I hadn’t hit him very hard, but his head jerked to the side at the blow, and the sound seemed to reverberate down the empty street. I tensed for some sort of retaliation, shocked at myself that I’d struck him. But I wasn’t going to back down from this now.
“Give it a rest, Ryan!” I said, struggling to keep from shouting. “I’m sick to death of tiptoeing around you! I’m sorry if you don’t like the fact that I’m fucking the demonic lord—” I took a deep breath, trying to keep from shaking. “Y’know what? No, I’m not sorry. I’m a grown-up. I can sleep with who I want, and I’m sick of being made to feel like some kind of sleazy whore simply because you don’t approve of him! This is your problem, not mine!”
He simply stared at me in shock. I began to turn to walk away but he caught my arm again. “Wait, please,” he said, putting his other hand up as a block in case I tried to hit him again. Smart move on his part, because I was more than ready to do so, and this time it wasn’t going to be a slap. I was no expert in hand-to-hand, but anger was making up for the lack.
“Kara, I followed you out to tell you that I’m sorry,” he said, voice gruff. “I’m being a dick.”
I pulled my arm out of his grip. “Not gonna argue with you there,” I retorted, scowling.
He sighed. “It’s just that ...” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You matter to me. Your friendship matters to me.”
My anger shifted to annoyance. “Fine. You want to be friends? Then act like a friend! Stop making me feel like shit all the time!”
Surprise flickered in his eyes, then he abruptly pulled me into a hug, wrapping arms around me before I could react or try to pull away. Though I suddenly had no desire to pull away from him. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “You’re in a shitty position, and I’m only making it harder for you.”
“Yup,” I said against his chest, anger beginning to trickle away. He was making it awfully tough to stay mad at him. He smelled like all sorts of nice manly stuff and I could hear the calm and steady beat of his heart. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">