Cut and Run (Lucy Kincaid #16) - Allison Brennan Page 0,110
did stupid shit in college. Don’t tell me you were a saint. I heard some stories from your cousins.”
“I am no saint,” Max said. “And illegal poker games in college mean nothing to me. I’m more interested in his current operation, the one he runs every Friday night not too far from here.”
She had taken the information that Sean learned from his friend at SAPD, but sometimes you had to spill what you knew in order to get more information.
That she knew about the Friday night casino clearly surprised Simon.
The server came with his drink, and he downed half of it. “Just rich people blowing off steam, betting a few thousand they can afford to lose. You should understand that.”
“I never saw the allure of gambling, though I had a lot of fun in Monaco with my cousin William before he got married. One of my favorite trips.”
“Why even bring this up?”
“His name came up in the course of my research. So I went to introduce myself to him yesterday.”
“You just dropped by? For no reason?”
“I gather information, I verify information, I report information. But I don’t have a time frame. I don’t have to come up with something for the evening news. I thought it was interesting that Stan had a gambling problem, one most everyone thought he’d curtailed years ago, and yet one of his college friends runs an underground casino right here.”
“Stan did have a problem. Harrison was probably part of the reason for that. But when he lost a bunch of money and had to sell the house he inherited from his parents, he stopped. I didn’t know he started gambling again, but I wasn’t surprised.”
“And you still believe that he stole money from his own company to cover a gambling debt he had with a college friend.”
“What? No. I mean, yes, I think he was gambling again. That’s what he said. Why would he lie about that?”
“And he killed your sister. Because of money.”
“I’m sure it was spontaneous. He confessed out of guilt. I’ll never forgive him, but Victoria didn’t have a lot of tolerance for weakness. She could be very judgmental. And she had a sharp tongue when she was angry.”
“So maybe he asked for the money, she said no, he killed her, took it anyway, then felt guilty and went to the police.”
He thought, then nodded. “I guess so.”
“And Harrison Monroe had nothing to do with it.”
“Why do you keep bringing up Harrison? We were all friends in college, and Victoria … It just doesn’t make sense.”
Max weighed how much to tell him. He could be involved up to his eyeballs, but could he have been party to killing his sister? Was this all an act?
Yet he didn’t deny the existence of the illegal gaming, and he didn’t deny that Harrison Monroe was behind it.
“Are you and Harrison still friends now?”
“Sure.”
He didn’t sound like he was too friendly.
“Good. I want in on one of the games. I want to see how the operation works.”
“No. I don’t even go all that often, but if I brought a reporter into the operation? Harrison would have my head.”
“Literally?”
“Of course not!”
“Was Victoria helping Monroe launder his illegal profits?”
“What? No! Why would you even say that? It’s ridiculous.”
“You keep saying that, but all I can think is that Monroe has a nice income from an illegal activity and he needs to clean it somehow.”
“He doesn’t make that much money.”
“Then why do it? In my experience, when smart criminals run a scam they’re only going to do it if they turn a profit substantial enough to justify the risk.”
“I should never have come here.”
“Because you’re lying to me.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Then you need to entertain the idea that Harrison was behind Victoria’s murder—and may have also been behind the murders of Denise Albright and her family.”
He blinked as if trying to comprehend her words. He opened his mouth but didn’t speak.
“It’s possible,” Max said, “that Victoria was killed because the Albright family’s grave was uncovered not ten miles from where they lived. They never left the country. Denise didn’t embezzle money from her clients. She and her family were executed.”
He honestly looked pained and stared into his empty glass. “I read about that,” he said quietly. “I think you’re way off, Max. Murder is a far cry from running a few poker games. And Harrison—he’s no saint, but I cannot even imagine him killing anyone.”