Heedless (The Hellbound Brotherhood #4) - Shannon McKenna Page 0,35

dark.

“Get into the car,” he said. “We’ll talk in there.”

Once they were inside, the slushy rain started coming down in earnest, the blobs of mixed rain and snow streaking down the windshield in front of them, turning the world into a wavering blur.

Elisa twisted her hands together, like she was gathering her courage.

“So we’re going to stay in McLinn?” she asked.

“Until we come up with a plan. A randomly chosen hotel won’t have bugs, so at least we won’t have to worry about Kimball there. One fucking thing at a time.”

“And the car?”

“Same,” he said. “It’s a rental. It’s clean. So? The story?”

“I’m working on it,” she told him. “Trying to find the best entry point.”

“I suggest the beginning,” he said.

She shot him an ironic look. “Fine,” she said. “The beginning. What do you know about Sheldon Sinclair?”

He was startled. “Wow. That was an abrupt change of subject.”

“Actually, no. But answer the question. What do you know?”

He shrugged. “Just what’s in the news. Sleazebag billionaire inherited daddy’s ill-gotten, outsourced, child-labor-law-violating retail empire, and is now doing his best to snort it all up his nose. Accused of rape by underaged girls, but somehow they all decided collectively to drop the charges. Speculation abounds. Lack of evidence, witness intimidation, organized crime involvement? One thing’s for sure, though. The guy is a certified piece of shit. And this is relevant to you exactly why?”

“Those dropped charges?” she said. “It was Gil who made that happen.”

Nate thought about it. “Huh. I don’t remember hearing Gil Clemens’ name mentioned. Not that I was paying much attention, but it’s a high-profile case. You’d think that a big shot DA from San Francisco getting involved in a case like that would be political suicide for him.”

“Gil is careful to stay out of the spotlight,” she said. “He safeguards his reputation very carefully. Taking care of himself is his superpower. But he slipped up this time.”

“How so?”

“Shel throws infamous wild parties on his Caribbean island home,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve heard about them. He invites politicians, celebrities, famous businessmen, socialites, foreign royalty. He gets them loosened up, and then he videotapes them misbehaving. And Gil got caught in his trap.”

“Ah,” he said. “I think I see where this is going.”

“Yes,” she said. “Shel owned him. When those girls accused him of rape, he turned to Gil for help. And Gil had to fix it for him, by any means possible.”

He nodded, and waited quietly for her to frame it in her mind.

“But one of these girls, Erasma. She got her hands on some of these video clips,” Elisa went on. “The recording of Gil was one of them. She came to see me at my art gallery in San Francisco. She looked terrible. Like a skeleton. She said she was being followed. That they were going to kill her. She wanted to show me something so I would know the truth about my husband. She wanted someone else to know before she died. Someone who might have a chance in hell of getting it to the press.”

“They, who? Who wanted to get her?”

“Sheldon’s thugs, I guess,” Elisa said. “Or Gil’s. Same thing, at this point.”

“Did you believe her?” he asked.

“Not at first. But then she offered to show me the proof, and I was having doubts about Gil anyhow. Things had gotten…well…bad.”

Nate waited patiently for more.

“It didn’t start out like that, when we first got together,” she explained. “He was so charming at first. Full of compliments. Smart, funny. He convinced me that he was crazy about me. I was so naïve, falling for it. Then my dad died, and Gil found out about the money.”

“The money,” Nate said. “What about it?”

“The Roarke fortune,” Elisa said wearily. “That I wasn’t going to inherit it. At least, not very much of it. My dad was very stern and rigorous in his personal philosophy. He didn’t want my brother and I ruined by extreme wealth. So he gave away almost all of his money to charitable causes.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Gil was just furious,” she went on. “He felt cheated. And after that, the gloves came off. And it got really bad, really fast.”

“What a prick,” Nate murmured.

“Pretty much,” she agreed. “He started trying to bully me into doing some strange estate planning moves. Things that benefited only him. And he started telling me all the many ways that I disappointed him.”

“Disappointed?” he said, incredulous. “You?”

She let out a hollow laugh. “I resisted being molded by the master sculptor, and