Page 14 of Behind These Four Walls
“But they’ll want their money,” Isla said, venom filling her. “No way they’re leaving millions sitting in the account of a dead guy. They knew how to get it in; they’ll want to get it out. You said the IP address originated from Virginia? The East Coast is headquarters for the Corrigan Group. Matter of fact, the family has their main estate in Charlottesville.”
Nat asked, “You know that how?”
“Research,” Isla said quickly. For now, she kept to herself that the Corrigan name was deeply ingrained in her mind and that she had some history with them, sort of.
Rey said, “So someone, maybe someone in the family, set Leonard up using the PR firm and us, and even brought in the top guy to give the theft more clout?”
That’s right,Isla thought. Victor Corrigan was here in the flesh. And his sons. Nearly ten years. The ten-year anniversary of the day Eden vanished was approaching near the end of the year. Now the Corrigans had reappeared. It was like the heavens were telling Isla it was time for her to finally do something. Something she could possibly do now that Leonard was dead too.
Nat asked, “What now? We just leave it alone? Go on with our lives and pretend we didn’t have a hand in this? Even if we didn’t know? We let ourselves get pressured, and Rey always says pressure leads to fuckups.”
“I love when you remember what I tell you.”
“Shut up.”
Isla wasn’t listening to their banter. Two people gone. The Corrigans. “We go to the source.” Her voice steeled as resolve took over.
Rey said, “Say what now?” Like he hadn’t heard clearly.
“I may not know a lot about how their businesses are run, but I know they are more impenetrable than the Pentagon,” Nat added, sharing a concerned look with Rey.
Isla’s mind rewound ten years, twelve. Back to when she was fourteen and her father was suddenly not there. Her mind fast-forwarded twoyears to the morning she awoke and realized Eden had never made it back to the motel room. She looked at her partners with a cold clarity that made them visibly shiver. “We owe it to Leonard. And I owe it to someone else.”
Again they shared a look. Nat rose and asked if Isla was okay. They knew nothing about Eden. It was a part of her life she had been too ashamed to tell them about. How she had run away scared when Eden never returned. How Isla had taken the money in Eden’s backpack even when she wasn’t 100 percent sure where Eden was, only had the feeling that Eden was gone for good. How Isla had saved money from every check, every payout she’d received ever since, intending to pay back what she had used, as if it could ever be recompensed. It couldn’t. Recompense was going back and handling business.
Determination infused her. “It’s time I did something I should have done long ago.” She took in a centering breath, preparing herself for whatever reaction Rey and Nat would have once she told them. She wouldn’t fault them. “You should pour more tequila, and some for me and Nat too.”
She took a seat at the table. Rey joined her with the tequila and three shot glasses. Nat pulled herself from the couch, following suit. They sat around the table in tense silence, waiting for Isla to speak, while Rey’s central command whirred softly in the background against the hum from the air conditioner kicking on to combat the heat from the electronics. The sounds from the bustling pier below faded into the background as Isla began the story of her and Eden and her plan for what came next.
When she finished, neither of them said anything, too shocked by what Isla now wanted to do.
Isla’s resolve was unwavering. They’d never seen this side of the usually easygoing, unbothered Isla Thorne. The weight of what Isla was about to do was oppressive. She was forging into uncharted territory, stepping into shark-infested waters.
Going up against Goliath.
With no telling who—or what—would be waiting for her when she went back to where it had started.
Chapter Eleven
Present Day
The following evening, the Lyft pulled to a slow stop in front of the same gates where Isla had been a little over twenty-four hours ago. The pink-velour-suit-clad driver adjusted her rearview mirror to appraise her customer. Dubiousness furrowed Kim’s brow. “Want me to wait until they send you packing?”
The question drew Isla away from the thoughts that had been consuming her, ones of how she’d manage to find a way in, because Kim was definitely right. If the guards in the station were anything like the ones last night, they weren’t letting Kim’s car cross their line, much less Isla. Even if they did, what if they made her walk the half mile to the estate? Isla’s wedge sandals weren’t made for walking.
Isla was also thinking about her conversation with Rey the night before and how they’d run through contingency plans should Holland not feel appreciative enough to personally get her keys back.
Kim continued. “These are the kind of people who won’t let anything other than limos and private cars in.”
“Your car is private,” Isla pointed out.
Kim sucked her teeth. “You know what I mean. This is King’s Valley. The Corrigan property is in the richest section off the Main Line. I’m surprised we made it up this far, to tell the truth.”
Isla was thinking the exact same thing but didn’t want to admit her concern out loud.
You’re really doing this? Last chance to back out and come home.
It had been Rey’s question to her after Hasaan had dropped her off at the Home Stays short-term-lease hotel last night, just in case the Corrigans had followed her, before she went on to the Red Roof. It was what Isla asked herself right now as Kim stopped before the gate and they both watched, mesmerized, as the gigantic gates slid open and a guard stepped out of the building to greet them. Was she really doing this?