“What?” he asked cautiously.
Trevor ran his thumb down the middle of his left palm. “There’s something I have to fix.”
His dad knew the severity from the look on Trevor’s face. “Then fix it.”
Gary Valencia and his family were still listed at the same address, although he assumed they would have fire-saled it by now, waiting for a possession date. Trevor walked. He didn’t want to show up in his father’s Jag, nor his Mercedes. He didn’t deserve to show up in either. Their house was large, not nearly as extravagant as his father’s, and half the size to fit seven people instead of one.
He knocked on the door, somehow making it sound like a dead man’s knock, if such a thing existed. A small girl, maybe five years old, answered the door. She was adorable with pink ribbons in her hair and pudgy cheeks with dimples as she smiled. Little white chicklets were on display. “Hi!”
“Hello. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“Well, that’s good. Is your dad home?” She smiled again before turning to get her dad, her little feet scurrying across the hardwood floor. Heavier footsteps followed shortly, returning back to the entrance. At first sight, Gary’s face fell flat and angry. “What are you doing here?”
Trevor handed him a small square piece of paper from a notepad.
He looked at it. “What is this?”
“Call that number, talk to Leonard. He will be awaiting your call. He will help you with acceptance of the wire transfer on your end.”
“Wire transfer?”
“Consider it a buyout.”
“You’re joking.”
“Mr. Valencia, what happened—”
“Was incredibly illegal?”
“I know that this doesn’t replace what you built. It was your company. Your family. This price tag doesn’t replace that. But nine million can help you create something meaningful again, should you desire to. I know whatever you put your name on will be built with integrity. Something I could learn a thing or two about.”
The anger in his eyes faded, but he wasn’t thrilled either.
“I’m not wearing a wire, Mr. Miller.”
“My father had nothing to do with it. Fairway Capital dangled the bait and I took it. It was my mistake. If I could go back, I’d change it. But that’s a worn-out saying not worth saying.”
“You’re not wrong about that.” He sighed, looking back in reaction to his kids screaming in the living room as they chased each other around the couch. He turned back to Trevor. “What will happen with Fairway?”
“Rumor has it the partnership just isn’t working out.”
He nodded. “This is all coming from your bank account?”
Trevor nodded. Valencia was surprised.
“You know what I could turn around and do with this money you’re giving me?”
“I do.”
“I could hurt you.”
“You could try.”
“Maybe I will.”
“If you feel you have to, you should.” Trevor glanced at two of the kids kicking at one another on the couch. “I’d save your lawyer fees though. You probably wouldn’t win.”
He shook his head. “Maybe not… For the record, you’re still scum.
“Yeah… I’m working on that.”
Valencia grumbled and looked at the piece of paper in his hands. He squinted at it. “Good to be white, hey?”
“It is. Maybe not so great to be me.”
Valencia considered the comment and nodded.
Trevor turned around and glanced at the For Sale sign. “Sold already?”
“We don’t need this big house anyway.”
“Right. Well, you’ll do good things, Mr. Valencia. Please give me a call if you have any questions.” Trevor extended his hand and Gary paused, then took it firmly. “And please, think of Miller and Associates for your future needs.”
“I’ll do that.” Maybe it was sarcastic. Maybe it wasn’t. It didn’t matter.
His ledger was clear. Yes, the retainer from Fairway helped some in paying Valencia back, but after twelve months, they’d be dropped and Trevor would move on. His father was seeking medical attention. Erin was at home, likely sleeping, but even more likely, studying. I’ll bring her breakfast. Trevor walked all the way back home to discuss everything with his father. Was he pissed? You bet your ass he was pissed. Would he get over it? Yes, he would. After that, he called his Mercedes dealer. He didn’t need it. It made him look like a douche. He’d use the proceeds for some pro bono work, perhaps.
Chapter Thirty-one - Erin
Her name was Tracy McGowen. She never had kids. Learning that fact didn’t clear her conscience in the way she had hoped it would.
Erin stood at her grave. The stonework was of the bargain variety. She set down flowers next to the headstone, kneeling to touch the print of her name. Her breath rose in the air and she shivered. She tightened her scarf around her neck.
Erin heard a grumble from a man behind her. He was short, bald, and moved like a man older than he was. He was recently retired from the NYPD.
“I hate the cold.”
Erin smiled and shook his hand. She was nervous.
“Erin, right?”
“Yes.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Thanks for meeting me, Doug. This may be strange to you. I don’t know. We could have met at a coffee shop or something, but—”
He waved her off. “This is fine. It’s about time I stopped by for a visit. I haven’t seen McGowen since they put her to rest here. Not great on my part.”
“Were you close?”
“No. My experience with her was memorable though. She was young and eager, full of piss and vinegar. You know the type. I like that type.” He stared at the headstone, and she waited for him to speak again. “I prefer people that give a shit. Anyway, I was old and starting to count the days by then. She gave me the last push I needed to care about my job. I always thanked her for that.”
“Anything else you can you tell me about her?”
“I remember around Christmas she got herself a dog. Forget what kind… But she was a hell of a cop. I just wish she would have said something to me that day. I could have helped. But it was my day off and she didn’t want to bother me I guess. Maybe I was too bitter. I’m not sure. I’ve been told I frown too much.”
“Do you know was she seeing anyone? Boyfriend? Fiancé?”
“Not that I know of. I think she was a fairly private person, but maybe that was just my perception. But she definitely wasn’t engaged or anything like that. No mention of a man.”
“What about her parents?”
“Mother had passed if I recall correctly. Don’t know if she was overly close with her father. Not sure though. How’d you know Tracy?”
“I didn’t.”
“I thought you were friends as kids.”
Erin shook her head.
“Why’d you ask me here then?”
“I was there when she was killed.”
He was expressionless. “Oh… I see.”
She waited for more, and so did he. “You saw the shooting?”
Erin nodded, face hot, eyes filling.
“I don’t remember your name on any statement.”
“That’s because…” She choked down the saliva caught in her throat. “My boyfriend at the time… He shot her. I was with him. We robbed that bank.”
He looked down at the ground, then at the headstone, then back up at Erin. She cringed and covered her face. Erin didn’t want pity. She wasn’t sure what she wanted from the man. Maybe to put her in cuffs and tell her she was a monster and would pay for what she did to his partner.
“Why tell me this now?”
Erin forced out the words, “Couldn’t go on.”
He nodded in understanding. He hobbled up a step to lean on his other leg. “What is it you do now, Erin?”