Page 26

Meanwhile…

There was a surprising number of papers crammed into the bottom of the tin chest. After making sure that Enda genuinely wanted to go through his grandmother’s notebook alone, Giorgio forced himself to respect that and gave his mate some space.

“You’re only a wall away,” Lamont teased as Giorgio dumped the pile of papers on the table with a scowl on his face. “Enda’s only in the next room.”

“I worry that he feels he has to carry the burden of his father and all the other shit by himself,” Giorgio muttered. “Shouldn’t Enda be turning to me for comfort and support?”

“From what I’ve seen, he does,” Damon said. “If you think about it logically, you and Enda met under horrific circumstances, and you two have done nothing but try and solve the mystery of his father ever since. It’s not like you’ve had a lot of bonding, fun times so far.”

“Your mating so far is measured in days,” Lamont added. “It sounds like Enda’s not had anyone he can truly trust his whole life. Just because you’re a tall stud with a competent attitude, that doesn’t mean Enda’s going to fall all over you from day one. You have to work at it.”

Pulling out a chair and sitting on it, Giorgio scowled. “I would do all the bonding, fun things with him if I didn’t have to worry about his father lurking behind every damn bush if we go out. I can’t help being protective. It’s in our nature.”

Dividing the papers into two piles, he pushed one across to Damon and then nodded at Lamont. “Fire up the laptop. Maybe we can make some sense of this nonsense.”

“Hey, believe it or not, you giving Enda space when he asks for it is a good thing. I know I’ve seen some of the other mates clinging to their hellhounds at every opportunity, and I’m definitely not saying that’s a bad thing. I wouldn’t mind an affectionate mate of my own. But with regards to Enda, I’m sure when he does need someone, you will be the first and only person he calls.” Lamont peered at him over the laptop lid. “You just need to trust that.”

“I wouldn’t mind if Enda would do a bit of clinging in the meantime.” Giorgio huffed out a long breath. “Okay. Let’s do this. Hopefully, we find some answers in this mess.”

The three men worked in silence for a while. There was a mixture of different papers in the piles, and it didn’t look like anyone had ever tried to put them in any order. Anything that looked like a legal document or that had a company name on, Damon and Giorgio passed onto Lamont while they scanned more personal papers, making piles of anything relating to Enda’s mother and grandmother that Enda might want to keep.

“I didn’t realize Enda had an American passport,” Giorgio said as he pulled the document out of the pile. “He said he was born in Japan.”

Flicking it open, he could see it was a child’s passport. A copy of Enda’s birth certificate was folded and tucked inside. Opening it up, Giorgio’s frown deepened. “This birth certificate says my mate was born in Michigan, in the states.”

“While this one, with its matching passport, says he was born in Japan.” Damon held up a Japanese passport. “Someone covering their bases, perhaps?” He tossed the Japanese version across to Giorgio, who studied it closely.

“They both look real. Even the pictures are the same.” Giorgio studied a much younger version of Enda. He had been a cute kid, and the black hair and soulful eyes hadn’t changed. “The name’s the same as well.”

“There’s a good chance both of them are fakes.” Damon yawned. “Money will buy a lot of things, and I think we all agree that Enda’s father must be loaded. They’ve both expired, I imagine, so, it’s not like they were a lot of use to anyone.”

Giorgio checked the dates, and Damon was right. They were both expired. He put them to one side, but Lamont immediately reached over, taking the American passport from the table. “I need to use this to check something. I’m seeing a worrying trend in some of these company searches.”

One advantage of being with packmates is that they all knew each other extremely well. Lamont would share when he’d worked out what was relevant.

Reaching the bottom of his stack of papers, Giorgio took his three piles - one with company documents Lamont had already been through, one with what looked like personal letters and different aspects relating to Enda’s mother and grandmother, and another pile related to expenses that all tied into one address in Japan – and added them to the piles Damon had made, stacking them up. There wasn’t a lot of detail in any of the personal papers or the ones with letterheads showing a Japanese address, but it would be up to Enda what he wanted to do with them.

I hope he’s doing all right. Giorgio looked over at the door separating them. He wasn’t getting much through their bond – more confusion than anything else. But it didn’t feel right going through the papers without his mate.

“I think we’ve got a real problem here,” Lamont said suddenly.

Giorgio felt a fissure of alarm. “What do you mean?”

Lamont tapped the laptop screen. “What was the name of the boat that Enda was on? Was that the Chameleon?”

“Yes.” Giorgio nodded. “Enda mentioned that it was possible that it had since been renamed or that it’s not likely to be found. He felt that name was indicative of the way his father was because a chameleon, of course, can blend and change according to his environment. But he mentioned a few red flags like constant crew changes, for example, which made me think the boat was actively hiding in plain sight.”

Lamont nodded as though that made sense. “You also mentioned that Enda had said that when he was transported from the boat to the warehouse where you found him, he was sent in a transporter or cargo plane?”

Leaning back in his chair, Giorgio rested an elbow on the table. “That’s how it sounded like to me when he described it. I’ve been on a few in my time. He said there was no lining inside the plane, there was just a bench seat, there were no facilities or anything else you’d expect on a passenger plane. To me, that sounded like a transporter that might be used for cargo or for the military, for example, but not what would typically hold passengers.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Lamont said. “Let me backtrack for a moment. From all these company documents that you’ve given me, these are companies that cover a cross-section of global enterprises. Each regular company was owned by a holding company. The holding companies were owned by one of three different shell companies.

“Those three shell companies are all owned by another three shell companies, and finally, we have the one overriding corporation that owns them all. It is essentially a pyramid scheme, with each layer of company ownership designed to send any investigators straight to another shell company.

“What makes it more difficult to trace all of this is that all of the original companies have their offices in different countries. The holding companies are shown as being located in different countries as well. The main, overall company has their corporate office located in Switzerland. Other company offices are listed as being in Thailand, Argentina, Colombia, Australia…you get the picture. Someone would have to have a lot of time or really deep pockets to investigate every single one of these entities.”

Giorgio nodded. “From a shady business perspective, that makes sense. If anyone has anything to hide from tax or law enforcement, then hiding behind shell companies and holding companies in locations that all have differing laws regarding what information might be shared - it’s a classic way to hide in plain sight. We already know that gaining country specific ID doesn’t seem to be a problem for the person we’re looking for.” He pointed at Enda’s American passport.

“What did you find out about the main company?” Damon asked. “That should be our focus, shouldn’t it? That will be where we’ll find the best leads.”

“You’d think that, but I’m not sure. Bear with me another moment.” Lamont tapped the keyboard and then said, “First, we can hypothetically tie some of these different companies to what Enda has gone through. One of the companies in Argentina lists a cargo plane as one of its assets. Another company out of Malta lists a super-yacht as one of its assets, bought to provide exclusive and high class business client experiences.”

Giorgio snorted. “A pleasure barge, in other words.”

“Not according to the listing, but still. The range of companies suggests the person who owned all this made sure they could source whatever they needed without any government oversight. There are two munitions’ companies, one that specializes in high-end catering…”

“Perfect for organizing parties for influential people. You can imagine a situation where the booze flowed freely. You can’t tell me that isn’t part of a blackmail racket,” Damon said with a growl.

“Could be, but it’s not like that sort of information is going to be included in company reports.” Lamont looked back at the laptop screen. “There’s another company, this one is in North America, but it is a high-end property management company, from what I can see, that offers traveling executives exclusive, upmarket homes in various states, for short term leases.”

“That could explain the different houses Enda stayed in as a child.” Giorgio flicked another glance at the closed door.

“That would make sense. That company was founded twenty-five years ago. In fact” - Lamont lifted a finger as he used his other hand to scroll the laptop screen – “most of the companies were all founded twenty to twenty-five years ago.”

Damon whistled. “Someone was playing the long game.”

“And making a shit ton of money at the same time.” Lamont nodded. “Some of these companies are showing profits in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, although how that money is made is sketchy.”

“This is all super interesting if we had the next six months to investigate and take this organization apart,” Giorgio said grimly, “but I’m still not hearing anything about the person who set this all up. Don’t tell me it was another shell company?”

“No. We do have a name.”

Giorgio and Damon looked at each other when Lamont didn’t say anything else. “What’s up, Lamont?” Damon teased at last. “Can’t you pronounce it? Does the name have too many syllables?”

“No.” Lamont’s reluctance to share the name was evident. “Fine. The person who owns the main corporation, who is then responsible for all the other companies is Enda Cochrane.”

“So, my Enda was named after his father?” Giorgio frowned. “That is possible, I suppose. Enda’s name has Irish origins, and there was a huge influx of Irish immigrants in the USA after the potato famine in the eighteen forties and fifties. That makes the man a lot older than we first thought, but among paranormals that’s not unusual.”

“I can appreciate you thinking that,” Lamont said, “but that’s not what the company records say. That’s why I checked the old passports you found. The owner of all of these companies, the one that rules them all, is the Enda who was born twenty-five years ago, with an address listed in Japan.”

Giorgio quickly flicked through the paper piles he’d made, pulling out a receipt that had something to do with house repairs. “This address?” He held up the page, showing it to Lamont.

Lamont nodded. “For all intents and purposes, the person who owns the companies that inflicted a life of abuse on our new pack member is the abused pack member.”

“Fuck!” Giorgio’s fists clenched, and his hound was growling in his mind.

“Wait. Don’t go getting your furry balls in a knot. That makes sense, don’t you see?” Damon tapped the table. “I couldn’t work it out. Why would a woman who had protected Enda for eighteen years of his life let him just go on some job with two men we can assume she’d never met before?”

“She was probably scared shitless.” Giorgio was still fuming.

“Or,” Damon said quickly, “she was told that because Enda had turned eighteen, it was time for him to learn to take over from his father as the heir of some hugely successful companies. Why else was all this company information in her secret keepsake tin? Perhaps that’s why she and Enda were left alive in the first place, after the mother was killed. What if Enda, our Enda, is this man’s only heir?”

“Which is all fine and dandy if that is the case. But Enda was working as a slave on that yacht for years – seven years, wasn’t it?”

“I doubt the grandmother was told that,” Lamont pointed out.

“No, but now we have a situation where if we, the agency I used to work for, or anyone else actually does investigate those poor people who were killed and then dumped in that warehouse, who’s it all going to come back to?” Giorgio pointed at the closed door. “The person who is the only surviving victim in all of this. There’s a good chance Enda owns the plane that transported him to his grave – or what was meant to be his final resting place. How fucked up is that?”

“The actual asshole behind this is one devious bastard, that’s for sure,” Damon said. “How can we…?”

But Giorgio didn’t hear the rest of that sentence. He got a sudden sensation as though someone had punched him in the gut. Enda was upset and needed him. Jumping up from his chair, Giorgio strode to the door between them, opening it quickly only to see Enda right there.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Enda crashed against his chest, hugging him tight as his precious notebook from his grandmother tumbled to the floor.