Broken by His Hand - Piper Stone Page 0,40

was normally a comfort, allowing me a few fond memories of a family that had been destroyed. Today, the constant noise just pissed me off. Maybe because it reminded me that some kind of clock was ticking, the asshole playing games holding every card in the deck. The person responsible for the various threats had ceremoniously cast a pall over both my personal life and the club.

And my patience was waning.

I glared out the window as I finished my coffee, the taste far too bitter for me this morning. While I rarely had a drink in the daytime, my nerves were more on edge than normal. I walked toward the bar, yanking a tall tumbler from the cabinet, dumping in several cubes of ice. A Bloody Mary was in order this morning. Perhaps the spice would prevent bile from continuing to form.

My thoughts drifted to Sophia. I’d spent a good portion of the morning attempting to find additional information on her. There was very little since she’d only been in town a few months. I had a reliable connection at the hospital where she worked who informed me that she was very good at her job, highly respected as well as a workaholic. There was no indication she was anything but what she’d revealed.

Then why was she asking pointed questions regarding the club? Maybe I was so damn jaded that I believed everyone was a potential threat.

After preparing the drink, I moved to my desk, easing down onto the leather chair and glaring at the materials I’d pulled from my files. I’d kept the originals that my father had given me all those years ago in the same envelope. While I’d used the information when appropriate, I’d felt it necessary to keep everything together. However, I hadn’t opened the package in several years, not since the club had been up and running. Maybe I’d missed something, a clue as to where he’d hidden the ledger.

I snickered as I swirled my drink. What would happen if the members realized we didn’t have the decades-old ledger? Maybe nothing. We certainly hadn’t used information against anyone, even the data that been collected since my brothers and I took over the operations.

However, someone or an entity was certain we had it in our possession.

I shifted my gaze to the box of mostly crumbs from the recently delivered package. The note was some kind of ridiculous clue, one that continued to rile my last nerve. Dog biscuits. What kind of a joke was it supposed to be? I’d also seen the look on Sophia’s face when I’d crushed the bones into the carpet; confusion as well as surprise.

No, I refused to believe she was a part of some larger scheme. Maybe the fact I already cared about her was having too much of an influence, but I’d stand firm on my beliefs.

I took a sip of my drink before shifting through the items from the envelope. Everything was just as I’d remembered. Bank account information. Deeds for several pieces of property, including one in Cancun and a partial ownership of a hotel in New York. Important contact information for the few people within my father’s small circle of business associates, including his attorney. Two of them had recently died, leaving four on the list. However, I’d spoken to all of them several times after my parents’ accident. I doubted they held smoking guns. Too much time had passed, only recently any form of trouble brewing.

What the hell was I missing?

I continued to pore over the information, including several old tax returns. There had to be something here I wasn’t seeing. But what? And why wouldn’t my father leave some indication where the ledger had been hidden? I shoved the papers aside, leaning back against the chair, trying to remember anything unusual my father had told me.

“I’ve learned a great deal about the effects of power, son. I’ll give you the best piece of advice that I can. Be careful who you trust. Make certain those around you have your back.”

“Has someone betrayed you, Pops?”

He snickered, swirling his brandy in one hand, savoring his cigar with the other. “The inner circle was very protected, preventing even the most basic betrayals. Together, we’ve made Club Darkness formidable on several levels.”

“But?” I asked casually. When his eyes clouded over, I could tell just how troubled he was.

“But there are always bad apples. Something for you to keep in mind.”

The inner circle.

A core of men who made the decisions