Chase the Pain (Amatucci Family #1) - Sadie Jacks Page 0,59
financial recovery are tied up in Everett getting into Harvard.”
“Why Harvard?” What could he possibly have to gain by his kid going to a specific school?
“Seems he’ll get some kind of quid pro quo kickback? I’m still digging on that one. The other end of that stick is hidden deep in someone’s ass.”
The Amatuccis laughed.
I rolled my eyes. “Anything else? What about Errington?”
The three standing Amatuccis jerked and growled at me.
I waved them quiet.
“Ethan Embry Errington, currently aged thirty-three, graduated high school at the age of fourteen. Went pre-med to Harvard. Finished in two years. Graduated top of his class. Graduated top of his class from Harvard Medical School—that he finished in three years, the slacker. Went on to complete his surgical residency at Harvard. Shocker of all shocks, he finished early and top of his cohort. Had his pick of placements, settled on New Trenadie straight out of residency.”
My brow furrowed. That didn’t add up. “Why not one of the bigger hospitals in NYC?”
“Unknown, but I’m guessing something personal. I’ve got more bots doing some digging. You want the rest?”
“Yeah. Go.”
“Met one Willow Koa Chase just after moving to NT. Began seriously dating her within a couple months. Engaged after two years. Married in two years. Divorced in five years. Single for the last eighteen months.”
“Family connections?” Domenico asked.
“Ooh, that’s a sexy voice,” Nik purred. “Erringtons are old money, old politics in the great state of Rhode Island. On the surface, they’ve got it made. But their dynasty is built on back alley deals and shady practices. Big surprise.”
“Why did Errington diverge from the path?” Turo asked.
Nik gave an actual purr over the line. “I think the next meeting should be in person, boss,”
My eyes almost rolled themselves back into my skull. “Information, Nik.”
“Fine, fine, fine.” She heaved a sigh. “Seems he was a wunderkind of the medical field. Nothing but top grades from kindergarten through surgical residency. Excellent credit score. No police record. Hell, nothing but the record of his birth, his marriage, and his divorce are on file. Zero brushes with the police. I haven’t found any psych testing or instances of instability. No therapy, no drug problems. Hell, he doesn’t even have porn subscriptions. He’s a big donor to medical research. Has published a library’s worth of papers on a variety of subjects. He’s the literal salt of the earth, do-gooder type, boss man.”
I doubted it. No vices whatsoever? He was either good at hiding them or he was good enough not to get caught with them. “No one remains squeaky clean, Nik. Keep digging.”
“On it.” She lowered her voice. “Bye boys.”
I cut off her husky laugh. The woman could get through any computer system, had a body like a centerfold, and loved to play with men. She changed men as often as she changed her panties. If any of these men wanted to play with her, that was fine. But not right now.
Turo cleared his throat. “I need her number. I’ve got some…information I need her to check.”
“After we get this figured out. Why would Cavendish get money if his kid goes to Harvard? That’s one of my burning questions. Second, what is Errington hiding? No one skips through thirty-three years of living without any kind of record. Even calling as a concerned citizen gets you logged somewhere. If Nik didn’t find it, it’s not there to be found.”
“Did someone wash his info?” Domenico asked.
I shook my head. “Nik would have caught that as well. There’re always traces. If Nik says she’ll find more information, she’ll find it. Right now, I’m more interested in the Cavendish issue with Harvard. Who’s going to pay John if Everett goes to Harvard? Is it only Harvard or would any school do?”
“The only thing I can think of in that kind of transaction is human trafficking,” Turo said. “Unfortunately, there’s tons of money in selling humans.”
I shook my head. “No. John selling his kid to traffickers? He might be an asshole, but…” I trailed off.
“What’s this Everett kid look like?” Massimo asked in his hushed voice.
“About six-one, shaggy brown hair, blue eyes, what the girls today would call hot,” Domenico snorted. “Bit of a weak sister in my opinion, but I’m not into dick.”
I pulled up a picture of him on the internet. Showed it to Massimo. “Here. Why?”
The quiet man took the phone and studied it for a moment. He handed it back and looked at his brothers, a heavy silence filled the room.