The Player's Club: Finn (6 page)

Victor slumped, grabbing his new drink. “I still don’t like it,” he said. “Damn it, George, I thought I said stay under the radar. If you attract attention to yourself, you’re going to screw this up!”

George bared his teeth, ready to chew the guy out, but Jonesy was quicker to reply. “Now, Vic,” he admonished. While his voice remained low, there was a raw promise of violence in his demeanor. “A man would think you were the one giving the orders around here with that tone of voice.”

Victor blanched and George simply smiled. Befriending Jonesy had been one of the best moves George had made since the whole debacle with the break-in and Juliana Mayfield’s interference. After the bitch had given the chief of police the video of George enthusiastically screwing his daughter…well, the case against Juliana and her Player’s Club buddies gaining access to his computer hadn’t held up. George’s parents were pissed enough to kick him out and cut him off, forcing him to beg for a job from Uncle Thorn. He’d had to move out of his mansion into a crappy town house.

He’d been drinking heavily and complaining to anyone who would listen and so, over the course of several martinis and some jovial conversation, he’d subsequently discovered Jonesy, his new best friend. Jonesy, like himself, had also been cut off from his parents’ money, only he wasn’t going to let a little thing like that stop him.

They’d gotten good and drunk, and when Jonesy had come up with the embezzlement plan and how easy it would be…well, things just started to fall into place.

“I’m just saying we have to be careful,” Victor cautioned, draining his girlish red cocktail.

“Trust me. I know what I’m doing,” George said, working on his second martini. He felt ebullient. Finn was going to be sorry. That was the bottom line. George was going to get revenge for getting kicked out of the Club and having his reputation damaged. “The plan was to get money. The embezzlement ought to work like a charm—they will find out, eventually, but I don’t plan to be on the run forever, and frankly, we’re not taking enough money to fund that. We only need to find a fall guy to pin this on.”

Victor blinked. “That wasn’t the plan!”

“He’s right,” Jonesy said, and George felt a little uneasy. “That wasn’t the plan I gave you.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll still get your cut,” George assured him. “But if we can nudge the blame onto Finn…well, that’ll free up the board seat, which means I’ll have a steady, profitable income, and I won’t have to do a damned thing. So money now, money later, and everybody’s happy.”
Except for Finn,
George thought. The idea of his smarmy cousin locked up for a while in Club Fed was enough to bring a smile to his face.

“It’s not set up for a frame job,” Jonesy said, his cultured tones shifting to something a bit more streetwise before he could catch himself. “The next time you improvise like this, you’d best warn me.”

“How hard can it be?” George said, looking at Victor.

“Very hard!” Victor shot back.

George leaned in close. “Then I guess you’d better figure it out,” he said softly, “because right now, it’s all pointing at
you,
Victor.”

Victor swallowed hard. Then he pulled out his wallet, dropping some bills on the table. “I’ve got to get back to the office,” he said, then pushed past George and fled the bar.

“Gotta keep an eye on that one,” Jonesy warned, shaking his head as George laughed and sat back down. “Don’t know that I can trust a man who can order a Cosmo without a trace of embarrassment. He’s the weak link, and he’d be quick to roll over.”

“It’s going to be fine,” George said, although he wasn’t convinced. “Besides, if push came to shove, Victor could just pop the money back and make it look like a big accounting error. That happens all the time.”

Jonesy’s expression went blank, his eyes flat and cold as a snake’s. “No, mate,” he said. “The money’s not going back.”

George blinked. “Well…no. I mean, it could, if there were problems. But there won’t be any problems.”

Jonesy did not seem comforted, so George plowed on.

“Besides, with Diana and my uncle distracted by Finn, they won’t even start to investigate any discrepancies. They’ll have their hands full with my cousin.”

“You’d better hope so,” Jonesy said, toasting him with his raised glass of whiskey. “Still, maybe I’d better look around, see if there’s any way we can’t tie off some loose ends while we’re at it. Make sure this thing goes off without a hitch.”

“Sure, sure,” George said absently, motioning for his third martini. Diana wasn’t going to be a problem. Finn wasn’t going to be a problem. It was all going to go George’s way, he thought. And about damned time, too.

4

IT HAD BEEN a frustrating week. It was nine o’clock at night and Diana was just driving away from the office. When her phone rang, she clicked on her Bluetooth headset. “Diana Song,” she said, her words clipped.

“Di, we lost him.”

She gripped the steering wheel so viciously she would be surprised if she didn’t leave indentations. “Bob, you’re one of the best private investigators ever,” she said. “So could you please tell me why it’s so hard to find one twenty-nine-year-old rich kid?”

“Anyone else, I’d say it was a walk in the park.” Bob’s nondistinctive voice, strangely enough, matched his completely average look. Which explained why he was one of the best private investigators in the business. “I don’t know how he made me, or the two guys I subcontracted to. Kid picked ’em out right away, and trust me, it wasn’t because they screwed up. I don’t suppose you warned him that you were going to be following him?”

“No,” she said, then frowned. “But I get the feeling his father might have inadvertently given him the heads-up. Damn.”

“Won’t be making my job any easier.”

“So, up your rate,” she said, pulling into her driveway. She parked the car, then took out her notepad to write
ask Thorn re: what he told Finn.
“You have no idea where he is now?”

“No.” At least Bob sounded embarrassed.

“Well, he drives a flashy car,” she muttered. “A Jag, I think. Maybe a Porsche. How hard can that be to spot?”

“That’s the thing. He parked near Union Square, headed toward the public transit, got lost in the crowd and took a Muni.”

“The bus?” She blinked. “Huh. I wouldn’t have expected it.”

“Trust me, neither did we. This is the third time he’s lost us, and that chaps my ass. Kid is a shadow. If you’re serious about finding this guy, I may have to use less than strictly legal means.”

“We’re not there yet,” she murmured, “but you’ll be the first one I call when we are. And I imagine that’s not going to be cheap.”

“You get what you pay for. In the meantime, how about I hire a few more guys to help me out. That’s going to cost, too.”

“Yeah, I know.” She needed to figure out how to justify the overage to Thorn. He might say there was an unlimited budget, but the man still expected the moon for a penny. She knew her boss, and for all his millions, he watched money like a hawk.

That reminded her of another headache. One of their accountants had emailed her about some discrepancies. As if she had time for one more thing on her plate.

“Hire the new guys, Bob. In fact, hire other new guys to check out whomever Finn meets. I want full workups on anybody he hangs out with.” She paused. “And I want an in-depth investigation on this Lincoln Stone guy. Beyond the strictly legal, Bob,” she said, with emphasis. “I’ll sign off on the invoice myself.”

Bob let out a low whistle. “Going to war, then, are we?”

“Just being prepared,” she replied. “I’ll keep an eye out for that report.”

She ended the call, then closed her eyes. She needed to schedule a massage or something, she thought wearily. She was wound just a little too tight.

She got out of her car, headed for her front door, and as was the norm lately, her mind drifted back to Finn. Who knew he’d be such an escape artist?

As she got closer to her door, she realized something wasn’t right; her stomach tightened, and that creepy feeling of being watched tickled at her senses. Struggling to appear casual, she reached into her attaché case and dramatically yanked out her mace, aiming it at the hydrangea bush next to her.

“Whoa there, easy now,” Finn said. “I’m unarmed and defenseless.” He came out from behind the bush, grinning, with his hands up.

“Unarmed maybe,” she said. And pointedly didn’t put the mace away. Her heart was pounding like a hammer against her sternum. She was still jumpy enough, and angry enough, to spray him just for the hell of it.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know I was here.” His hazel eyes twinkled. “I mean, you’ve got three really decent private investigators following me, right?”

“As far as you know.” He was cocky. Why in the world would that provoke a smile? Irritated with herself, she put the mace away and walked past him, unlocking her front door. “You’ve proven you’re smarter than my investigators. The trick’s going to be proving it tomorrow or the day after that.”

He followed her to her door, and her heart kept pounding even though she was pretty sure the adrenaline of being scared had worn off. “I like that about you. You’re up for the challenge.”

“I told you. I don’t play games.” She faced him.

He leaned in close enough that she could feel the heat from him like a tropical sun. “I do,” he whispered, and she wet her lips in anticipation. “Play with me, Diana.”

For a second, she wanted nothing more than to press her mouth against his. Mold her body against his. Drag him inside and see exactly what sort of games they could play.

“You’re simply having a little fun here,” she said, instead, angry at herself and her fantasies. “But I’m doing my job.”

She turned on her heel, and yelped when he started to follow her again.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like? I’m coming in,” he said. “It’ll take twenty minutes for the cab I called to get here.” His smile was so entreating, his dimples so charming, that it startled a laugh out of her. Why couldn’t she stay mad at him?

“I didn’t invite you here, and I certainly didn’t invite you in,” she told him, hating that she sounded breathless. What was she, in high school? She put on a stern frown. “If you’ve got to wait outside, that’s your problem.”

“Do you always take everything so seriously?”

She huffed out impatiently. “Do you take
anything
seriously?”

She’d made a fatal mistake, she realized. She’d gotten too close to him physically. Lost her stupid mind. She could smell his aftershave, something clean and male and vaguely outdoorsy. She could see the muscles that pulled his T-shirt taut against his chiseled chest. He seemed to sense her new appreciation, and moved forward.

“I take a few things very, very seriously,” he replied, reaching out, touching her cheek, stroking gently. “I wouldn’t mind showing you sometime.”

“D-does that actually work on women?” she asked, trying for disdain and failing miserably.

“You tell me.” His lips were just above hers, his voice caressing her. “Just tell me to stop, Diana, and I’ll stop cold. But I have to say, I haven’t met anyone who’s intrigued me half as much as you.”

“I’m not trying to intrigue you.”

“Maybe that’s why.” His mouth…damn, she could all but
feel
it against hers.

She forced herself to pull away, breathing deeply. “Well, that’s flattering. You’re attracted because I’m not.” She quirked up one of her eyebrows. “Don’t they have a term for that sort of fixation? Like
stalker?
”

“I didn’t say you weren’t attracted.” His eyes shone with amusement, and admiration. “I said you weren’t trying to intrigue me, which is great, by the way. Most women I know figure out I have money and then do everything they can to hook me.”

“I’m not trying to hook you,” she said, insulted. “And I am not attracted to you.”

“Liar.” He drawled the word. If honey had a sound, his voice would be it.

She crossed her arms. “Okay. You’ve got me. I’m sooo attracted to you. Take me, take me now. Oh, baby.” She rolled her eyes when he laughed. Damn. He had a great laugh.