Page 68 of Grift

He looks confused for a second, and then recovers. “Every time. Untraceable.”

“Bullshit. It took my guy a couple of weeks to run down the original, the details of how it was made, and track down every copy. Do you have any copies here?”

A horrified look crosses his face. “No, absolutely not. They’ve all been destroyed.”

“Not all. This one came from your office.” I slip the paper with the assistant’s name and a copy of the check for twenty grand in front of him. “The paperwork says she went out and bought an SUV a week later.”

When he speaks, his voice is tight. “She’s worked here for almost twenty years. She came up with me through the ranks.”

“Sounds like you should have treated her better and you didn’t exactly give me the impression you trusted her just now. That’s your business, but that’s not why I’m here.” I throw the paperwork on his desk. “That’s why I’m here.”

Say what you will about Geary Kensington. He’s a quick study. Blood vessels have burst in his cheek when he looks up, and his eyes are rimmed red, but they’re devoid of tears. “Do you know what you’re saying? What this means? My own son…”

His eyes move down to the desk, and then back up to mine. “How do I know you’re telling the truth? Is this some Carney play? What the hell does James want now?”

“My father doesn’t know I’m here.” Direct and to the point.

At that, his eyes close briefly. “I really hoped this was something your father set up. But unfortunately, it sounds all too real.”

“Fuck my father and fuck your son, Geary. The one person that matters here is the one you still haven’t mentioned: Jessica.”

At her name, his face hardens.

“She’s an amazing woman. The greed and ineptitude of the people around her, the people she was supposed to be able to trust, keep letting her down. I won’t be another man in that line,” I say simply.

“I’ll handle it,” The Senator tries for confident, but his voice is weak and his hand is shaking when he reaches for the whiskey. He hasn’t handled it up to now, and I’m not leaving it in his hands. But I can tell by the way he’s moving slowly, a little in shock, that he already knows that.

“There’s only one way this gets handled. The day Jessica became a Carney, she became, as you like to say, my responsibility. Or did you say problem earlier.” He’s not looking at me. He’s staring at the papers that lay it all out, fanned across his desk.

Enough pulling punches. “This is a courtesy visit. There’s only one way this ends, no matter which one of us handles it. But you know that.”

His eyes come up to meet mine. “How did everything go so wrong?”

“It’s your choice, Geary. Protect Camden, protect Jessica, protect your legacy. Or let the one son who obviously has never respected you keep compromising everything,” I want to rip his throat out. But it’s better if he thinks we’re on the same side.

He slugs the whisky. “You’ll handle it? It can’t tie back to me. Or to you and Jessica. It needs to look like an accident or….”

I stand up. “Leave the specifics to me.” I take the paperwork and the tape.

“You’ll destroy that?”

I don’t answer as the door swings closed behind me.

I’m done answering to men like Geary Kensington.

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