I had the distinct feeling there was much more going on with this, but I didn’t know where to begin to ask. “What are you looking for, Mr. Wells?”
“Confirmation they’re using blackmail, extortion, threats, even kidnapping some of their enemies. Without any former contestants being willing to talk, we can’t get anywhere.”
“Why would the contestants talk if they were given a golden key?”
His smile was as if I’d just passed a test. “I’m not talking about the contestants who won. My guess is at least one of their enemies attempted to slide past the gatekeepers to learn trade secrets.”
An interesting thought, but the entire situation was far-fetched.
“What exactly is it that you want me to do?” I was feeling more and more uncomfortable about the entire situation. And not just from the perspective of whether or not the owners of the Blackwell Group were capable of some atrocities.
“Whatever you can to take a real look inside. Find a source. Talk to some people. Whatever it takes, you have my full blessing.”
“Is this personal, if you don’t mind me asking?”
There was something much darker about the way he was looking at me and for a few seconds, my skin crawled. “The three owners are vile, evil creatures, Cassandra. While not proven, it appears they each killed at least one member of their respective foster families but were never charged even as minors.”
Wow, his vehemence caught me off guard.
“Why would they do that? Abuse?”
“In all three cases? Highly unlikely, but their birth father was a true monster.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he was a serial killer, his methods of mutilation and death ten times more violent and calculating than Baker the Butcher. Now, are you interested?”
He knew how much killers fascinated me.
The glimmer was back in his eyes. I wanted to tell him I’d think about it, but he was offering me a chance at proving my worth in another way. However, my instincts were screaming this was something I shouldn’t do. “I don’t know, Mr. Wells. I’m not a true investigator.”
“Prosecutors make the best investigators, Ms. Penticoff, simply because they can look at everything objectively with aspects of the law in the back of their minds.”
“Can I think about it? I do have some cases that I had to put on the back burner because of the Baker case.”
“Of course, my dear. Take a couple days.”
“Thank you.” I stood up and handed him back the file, realizing I hadn’t taken a single note. I started to walk away when he exhaled.
“I also wanted to remind you that the higher-ups are having a meeting next week. We need to select and groom the new generation before I retire. Perhaps you remember that you’re on the short list.”
I’ll be damned if the man hadn’t just thrown a carrot in my face like I was some damn horse. Or lackey. My hackles were raised. Whatever he was looking for was entirely personal. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. I’ll let you know about the case tomorrow.”
“Excellent.”
As soon as I walked out, I felt a burst of anger. The man was baiting me and that only solidified how I felt about men.
Damn them all to hell.
I was all fired up by the time I walked down the hallway, catching sight of Cash in the breakroom. When he noticed my face, he came flying after me, yanking me back into the empty space.
“What in God’s name did he say to you?” His eyes swept back and forth across mine.
“It’s more about what he dangled in front of me. A promotion.”
“I knew you’d leave me in the dust,” he teased until he noticed I wasn’t kidding. “What happened?”
I don’t know why, but I glanced over my shoulder. Mr. Wells hadn’t mentioned this was hush-hush, but my instinct told me not to mention it to anyone I couldn’t trust.