Page 54 of Beautifully Broken Control

“Yes.” The word came out on a croak, her voice raw from crying.

“Everything you need should be in the bathroom. I’ll go grab you some clothes and leave them on the bed.”

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded...dead. Devoid of any emotion. And it had me wishing I’d decked her brother when I had the chance.

“Be right back.”

She shuffled towards the bathroom as I headed for the master suite two doors down. I knew I’d be sleeping with my door open, if I slept at all, listening for any sounds of her movement. I set down the various files and packages I’d gotten from Vince and Rachel on a chair in the corner. I’d go through it all tomorrow.

It took me a bit to find something that had any chance of fitting Kennedy. I finally opted for a tee, boxer briefs, and a pair of sweatpants that had a drawstring. I lifted the pile along with the water and aspirin I’d forgotten about and headed down the hall. I faltered at the door. Kennedy stood in the center of the room, her hair wrapped in a towel, body clad in only one of the terrycloth robes that had been in the bathroom. A wrap that was gaping open in the front just a bit. I swallowed, hard. “Here you go. Sorry it took so long. I had trouble finding something I thought might fit you.”

Her lips flickered as though they were trying to smile but couldn’t quite make it happen. “Thank you.”

“And here’s some aspirin.” I set the packet of pills and the drink down on her bedside table. “I thought you might have a headache.” I cleared my throat as I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “Is there anything else you need? Something else to drink? A snack?”

Kennedy bent to pick up the clothes at the end of the bed. “I think I just want to go to sleep.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.”

As I headed for the door, Kennedy’s voice stopped me. “Thanks for not asking any questions.”

“Get some rest.” What I didn’t say was that there would be plenty of time to talk in the future. And we would be talking. But I’d do my research first.

I headed for my room, going straight to the wall safe I’d put in and opening it up. I pulled out my laptop and set it on my bed. I quickly showered, pulling on the only pair of flannel sleep pants I owned, something I didn’t think I’d ever worn before. But it seemed like a dangerous idea to sleep in the nude like I usually did. What if Kennedy needed me in the middle of the night? My chest constricted, but I forced the thought from my mind.

I settled myself against the array of pillows on my bed and pulled the computer onto my lap. My fingers drummed as I waited for the security checks to complete. As soon as they did, I opened a browser. The first thing that came to mind was that Kennedy and her brother didn’t share the same last name. They could be half-siblings, I supposed. But there was something about the last nameBarringtonthat tickled the back of my brain.

I enteredPreston Barringtoninto my search engine and hit the motherload. No wonder the last name had sounded familiar. Davis Barrington had been arrested and convicted for turning his hedge fund into a Ponzi scheme. It had been all over the papers two years ago.

But why had Preston said that Kennedy would tank my business? My eyes skimmed over an article about the case.Davis Barrington was arrested yesterday on various charges, all centering around the misappropriation of funds from his investment company. The real twist of the story comes from who helped the FBI make the arrest. His twenty-year-old daughter, Kennedy Barrington, allegedly got a confession on tape for the law enforcement agency. Many believe she was complicit in the crimes but simply knew her father would soon be caught and decided to save herself.

I exited out of the article. Everything made a hell of a lot more sense now. How jumpy Kennedy had been when I’d asked questions about her past. Her aversion to anything she perceived as waste. She was drowning in guilt. For something she’d had no part in.

My fingers flew over the keyboard again, my brain working out all the potential ways for this to cause Kennedy harm. I’d only followed the case in a cursory way and had no idea who all the players were. Davis had been sentenced to ten years in a federal penitentiary but had recently been granted parole.

My chest squeezed. Kennedy had one of the most tender hearts I’d ever known. What had it done to her to know that she’d put her father away and that he was getting out after only two years?

The majority of the hedge fund employees had been found innocent, including Kennedy’s brother, but their careers had been tanked. They’d never work in New York finance again. I searched out Preston, he was the figure I was most concerned about right now.

After a deep background dive, I found that he too had changed his name. He now went by Preston Williams. But his identity switch was easier to find. Apparently, it hadn’t been sealed by the courts as I assumed Kennedy’s was. Preston worked for a new financial startup in Seattle, but it appeared he was more of a silent partner. His name and photo were featured nowhere on their site. The only connection I’d found was when I hacked into the man’s bank account and saw the direct deposits.

My back molars ground together. Preston wasn’t exactly hurting for cash. He had a couple million sitting in his savings account alone. So, why was he so angry with his sister? Because of the lost prestige?

My mind circled everything that had happened from every angle I could think of, and I kept coming back to Kennedy’s sealed name change. Why had that been necessary? I plugged her old name into my search engine.

The first photo that popped up was what must have been a graduation photo. She wore pearls around her neck and dangling from her ears, along with the black draping that was typical of those private prep school photos. Her hair was swept back in a perfect bun at the base of her neck.

I barely recognized her. The smile on her face was forced, and her eyes didn’t have the sparkle they held now. She looked as if she were playing a part that had been miscast. No wonder she’d bristled at the persona I’d put on earlier in the evening.

I minimized the photo. I couldn’t look at it anymore. The next article I opened had me sitting up in bed.Kennedy Barrington Attacked Leaving FBI, the headline read. My eyes skimmed the text, speeding ahead to get to the information I needed, but then came to a dead stop on the photo. The woman who was one of the kindest I knew was covered in what looked like blood. My heart stopped until I read the caption.Attacker throws fake blood on Barrington.

No wonder she’d run. Started over. I would’ve done the same. My heart ached for the woman I knew now. How alone she must’ve felt.

I pushed those feelings aside and forced myself to go into threat assessment mode. I did something I hadn’t done since I was a senior in college. I hacked into the FBI’s database.

My focus tunneled. All I saw was a series of ones and zeroes until I got to where I needed to go. Then all I saw were names and reports, most of it useless until I came to one by an Agent Carnes. Apparently, he’d been Kennedy’s point of contact, the one who had first approached her for help.

I fought the urge to clench my hands as I read through the transcript of that first meeting. They’d basically threatened to arrest her brother if Kennedy didn’t help. My eyes scanned down the screen. The report listed a slew of threats made against Kennedy, including four or five people who had been harassing her, making those threats directly to her, even after she’d moved across the country.

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