“First things first.” Enzo offered a small, reassuring smile. “The loan is trash. Illegally constructed, likely unenforceable if push ever came to shove, with the exception that you’ve been making payments.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Baily asked. “Because it sounds like they could make me pay.”
“Technically, no. They can’t.” Enzo peered over his cheaters. “But predatory loans like this, ones buried behind shell companies, are designed for people like you not to ask questions. They expect you to be fearful of losing everything. They promise that you won’t, but then when the loan is called in, and you can’t either pay off the principal or make the payments, they decide they can no longer carry the loan. They figure you’ll never consult with someone like me, because you can’t afford it, aren’t smart enough to ask the right questions, or by the time the loan is due, you’re too beaten down to care anymore. But if you do, the problem is you’ve been making the payments, which does give them some legal rights even though the loan by itself isn’t legal.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Dawson said.
“If this were to go in front of a judge, and the people behind it weren’t criminals, a good attorney would argue that for seven years, you valued the loan enough to make payments. My argument would have to be that your dad didn’t understand what he was getting into, and that might be hard to prove.”
“What about the fact we don’t believe her dad ever received the loan in the first place?” Fletcher asked.
“Yeah. That’s a new twist, though I have seen it before. Usually, it’s when a company or person plans on taking over a business quickly,” Enzo said.
“It’s possible, if the Barbaros are behind this loan, that they had every intention of calling it in sooner,” Dawson said. “But we’re not sure why they would’ve done that. It would’ve shown their hand. It would’ve put Ken in a tough spot. And then, there’s the whole drug cartel issue, putting whatever their end game is at risk.”
Enzo took off his glasses, set them on the table, and leaned back. He didn’t appear more relaxed. As a matter of fact, Baily wasn’t sure this man knew how to relax, but he did have kind eyes and a gentle demeanor. “I’ve had some interaction with Barbaro Manufacturing.” He rubbed his jaw. “It was a couple of years ago, and the circumstances were a little different. A family living in Miami had lost everything when their son moved to Delaware and invested their life’s savings into a small business under the urging of someone inside Barbaro Manufacturing. It was difficult to prove that one of the Barbaros gave this kid a bogus loan. The paper trail wasn’t this tight. And I’m not licensed to practice law in Delaware, so I had to find a firm willing to take the case—pro bono.”
“What happened?” Chloe asked.
“Unfortunately, the kid decided to end the legal suit,” Enzo said. “My lawyer friend in Delaware believes this young man was pressured. Threatened. My buddy kept an eye on him and his business for a while.”
“What kind of business?” Dawson asked.
“It’s a small restaurant in the harbor, but in reality, it’s a money laundering business and a front for drugs.” Enzo arched a brow. “Possibly something bigger, but he couldn’t be sure. The kid went missing about a year ago.”
“Jesus,” Baily muttered. “Do you think they could’ve been putting that kind of pressure on my brother?”
“Anything’s possible.” Enzo took off his eyeglasses and shoved them back on his face. “His in-laws could’ve been banking on his ability to push your dad and you into selling. Or the idea that when the funds didn’t come through, it would force your dad to default quickly.”
“I don’t get that part,” Fletcher said. “In the notes I have from Ray, it appeared that Ken kept telling his dad to hold on and wait. That the money was coming. And I guess Ray made the payments, so they couldn’t force his hand?”
“That’s correct, and if Ken told him to do that, then Ken might’ve saved the marina from being taken over years ago,” Enzo said. “My forensic accountant buddy and I have seen this kind of thing before. No deposit record for the full amount. No wire. No traceable disbursement through any formal institution.” Enzo sighed. “I’ve studied those notes and examined the timeline. It does appear that Ken played both sides of this. Or he could’ve been waiting to tell your dad it turned out to be some Ponzi scam. That even his in-laws were taken, and they lost a cool million or something—but that never happened, so that makes me wonder a few different things about Ken.”
“You say all this like it’s an everyday occurrence,” Baily mumbled.
“It’s not,” Enzo said softly. “But it happens. These people are good at being fiscally creative. And even better at tugging at the right emotional strings of their victims. I’m sure the Barbaros were beating Ken up with something, and in turn, he knew what to say to get your dad to trust him. I just wish I knew if Ken was actually stuck in the middle, like it appears, because your dad made the loan payments on money he never received, or if the Barbaros just weren’t ready to take over the marina for some reason.”
“There was another cartel doing business in this area back then,” Dawson added.
“My dad trusted Ken when he took out that loan.” Baily lifted her tea to her lips, wishing it were whiskey.
Chloe leaned forward, her hand resting on Hayes’s knee. “So, what does this mean for Baily? Legally, anyway.”
“You can tell them to shove it,” Enzo said. “But if you really wanted to, you could go after them. File suit. Hit them for fraud and predatory lending. But first, we need to send them a letter.”
Fletcher let out a slow exhale. “And what does that look like?”
“Depends on whether the company is legitimate or not. If they are,” Enzo said. “It would be a long, messy, expensive process. They’ll drag their feet, file counterclaims, and try to bleed you dry through paperwork alone. But you’d have a case. A damn good one.”
“But it doesn’t matter, because it appears it’s not about the money. But the land. The Everglades. The professional appearances,” Dawson said. “And you said it a few minutes ago, they can make people disappear.”
Baily rubbed her forehead. “What if I don’t pay them? Just… ignore them. Let them come at me.” She blinked, glancing around at her friends. “I mean, they’ve already tried to sink my boat with me in it. Maybe that was a warning. Maybe they knew Silas was right around the bend. Who knows? But what if we change the rules of their game?”
“That’s a real option,” Enzo said. “I doubt they’re gonna try to foreclose or seize the property. They’d have to show documentation they don’t actually have. It’s risky—because they might go scorched earth. But if we wait and let them try, we might force their hand and get a look at who’s the face behind the curtain, who might give us insight.”
“Are you sure you’re just a boring old corporate lawyer?” Chloe said. “Because that’s some real FBI agent speak.” She lowered her chin. “Greer said you had chops, but I had my doubts.”
Enzo chuckled. “Yeah. Greer. She’s a good one. And she tried like hell to get me to join her at Quantico. But no. A gun and a badge aren’t the world for me. I’ve got a wife and two kids. I prefer the battle zone of boardrooms and mounds of paperwork. It’s not bloody, but it can be messy.”