Page 39 of Philly
“The sheer volume of transactions is what baffles me,” Philly said. “I get why they are small, but how many in total? Almost four thousand over a fifteen-year period. That’s dedication.”
“Makes it more likely that more than one person is involved. Aiden and Joseph Nolan are the obvious choices,” Callie said.
“We’ll need to check their schedules, too,” Leo said.
Philly grimaced. “I agree it needs to be done, but have fun with that.” He paused. “One other thing I don’t get is that someone would need his log-in and passwords. Not only to his computer but to the accounts he transferred the money to and from. Who shares that information?”
Leo grinned. “That astonishment in your voice made my little cyber heart happy. I’m glad you find it as astounding as I.”
“What? You don’t share your log-ins with your colleagues?” Callie asked.
Both he and Leo whipped their heads around. Callie chuckled. “Of course it’s weird that someone else would have those. Not to mention the fact that I also assume the company follows standard protocols—at a minimum—and requires password resets every three months.”
“There could be a keystroke monitor on his computer,” Leo said, bobbing his head in thought.
“Any way you can tell?” Callie asked.
Leo nodded. “Yeah. We didn’t look when we went in the first time because we were focused on Rian, but I can hunt around.”
Callie cocked her head; Philly narrowed his eyes. “Is any of this legal? Or should I pretend I didn’t ask that question?”
Leo chuckled. “We have a judge who’s very supportive of the work HICC does. We had warrants to investigate both Michael Quayle and Rian Nolan. The initial warrants included electronic surveillance. Now we’ve found additional details, we’ll get the warrant expanded for Nolan Enterprises.”
Callie raised an eyebrow. “I definitely made the right move in coming to HICC.”
“It pays to be under the radar for the most part,” Leo said. “And I agree, you made the right move. So, who are we looking at? Aiden or Joseph?”
“Both,” he and Callie said at the same time, then smiled.
“They all travel, so we need to understand how their schedules line up with the transactions before we can rule either out,” Callie said.
“I don’t think Joseph is involved, but agree we need to confirm,” Philly added.
“Why not?” Callie asked.
He hesitated. “Or maybe he is involved but doesn’t know it. Joseph is, I only met him once, and he’s like a combination of Opie Taylor and a golden retriever?—”
“Isn’t that kind of the same thing?” Callie murmured, making him laugh.
“He’s smart but doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. He’skind. A genuinely nice guy. And a bit goofy.” Philly paused, recalling the one and only time he’d met Rian’s younger brother. Philly had been in New York for a guys’ weekend and ran into the brothers at a Knicks game. They’d invited Philly and his three friends to join them in their suite, and Joseph had peppered them with questions, offered his apartment for them to crash at, and called in a few favors to get them into a couple of clubs they wouldn’t have otherwise been welcome to set foot in. And he hadn’t done it because he wanted to show off; it felt more like when a retriever brings you a sock as a gift after you’ve been away all day—he just wanted to make Philly and his friends happy.
He shook his head. “Regardless, yes, include him. If he’s been manipulated into helping, maybe he can point the finger at who’s really behind it.”
Callie exhaled. “Okay, Leo, we have our marching orders. You ready for this?”
Leo grinned. “I live for this shit.”
22
Three days after Gabriel had left her and Leo to develop a plan of attack, an early-morning knock at the door woke her. She didn’t question who stood on her porch. She’d updated Philly a few times via text, and he’d invited her out to Rita C’s once on a night he worked as the bartender. She’d been a bit surprised by that and had debated whether to take him up on it or not. In the end, she couldn’t keep away. If he was going to offer olive twigs—not branches, not yet—she’d take them.
Rolling out of bed, she tugged a sweatshirt on, then ran her fingers through her hair. She didn’t usually sleep well, and last night had been no different, but she refused to think about what a mess she must look. If he came by—she glanced at the clock—at five thirty in the morning, he’d get what he got.
Swinging the door open, the cold air whipped around her bare legs. It hadn’t snowed yet, but the biting cold foretold an early ski season. Without thinking, she grabbed the front of Philly’s shirt, tugged him inside, then quickly shut the door.
“Uh, hi,” he said. His gaze drank her in, darting to her face before sliding over her body, as if he couldn’t stop himself.
Hmm, maybe she didn’t look as bad as she thought.
