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“I will agree that your taste is improving,” I rib him. Anthony seems like a pretty good shit considering his background. I sure as hell would never want to tangle with him though. “I’m going to call the café and have them bring up some breakfast sandwiches, French toast and coffee for everyone. Is there anything else you want?” I ask, looking around the vehicle.
“Just get plenty, that’s all I ask,” Anthony says, rubbing his hand over his stomach. “Romeo and I will each need a couple sandwiches.”
“Can I get a vanilla latte with cinnamon on top?” Mandy asks sheepishly.
“Of course,” I laugh at her reserved demeanor. “How about you Nolan?”
“I don’t deserve anything,” he replies, still sulking. “I’ll eat whatever.”
Turning back toward the front of the vehicle, I punch the number for Trump Tower and place my order. It’s my belief that Bill, Nolan and Aileen are all victims in whatever scheme has been going down. Nolan definitely doesn’t seem like someone who could orchestrate anything this evil and deep down I know Bill would never betray Dad, even if he were desperate. He might twist his arm for a loan or something, but he would never intentionally hurt him.
Chapter 8
Trey
Following an emotional reunion at Trump Tower, Anthony, Mandy and I are anxious to get any additional details from Becky and Aileen that can help us. Aileen was as close to Bill as anyone and Becky overheard parts of his conversation with Tommy the day before. Hopefully, having everyone together in one room will bring some new facts to light.
“Did you talk to Bill yesterday afternoon?” Anthony asks Aileen as we all settle into the couches and recliners in Dad’s living room.
“No. I called him about four o’clock, but…” She chocks up and waves her hand in front of her face trying to suppress her tears. “It was too late,” she whimpers.
“I wish I knew what they were arguing about,” Becky adds, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “Bill was so upset when he left.”
“He had been upset for the past few days,” Bill’s wife Joanna says solemnly. “He kept stewing over Victor and Tyler. They were the only two who knew about the accounting problems at Tommy’s companies and suddenly they both were…” She stops short and pushes her face into her hands. “And now he’s gone too.”
My phone buzzes, so I pull it from my pocket. It’s a text message from Carly saying: I’m headed to Belize to shut everything down. I click on her number and try to call her back, but again it goes right to voice mail.
“Carly says she is trying to stop what is going on,” I tell Anthony along with everyone else. “I find it hard to believe she was in charge of this whole thing. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she kill Dad?” I think back to the conversation with Chester regarding Dad’s prenuptial agreement.
“Maybe their relationship was on the rocks,” Anthony speculates.
“Honestly, I think she was having an affair with Tommy,” Aileen whispers loudly holding her hand up to the side of her mouth as if she’s gossiping in school or something. Her eyes light up as she continues, “I could tell by the way they would look at each other. It was totally obvious that something was going on between them.”
“My cousin, Chester, who was one of Dad’s lawyers told me that Dad no longer trusted her,” I tell Anthony and the others. “But he never told him why.”
“It usually has something to do with money or cheating,” Anthony says nodding his head and jotting it down on his notepad.
“I’m starting to think it was probably both,” I reply, thinking out loud. “Is Tommy in the office today?” I ask Becky, thinking maybe we should pay him another visit.
“I assume so,” she replies, “but I had to leave my phone behind, so I haven’t heard from him. He was planning on being in today.”
I click on my recent calls and tap his phone number. “Trey?” he asks, sounding surprised to hear from me. “Where are you?”
“I’m at Dad’s place,” I tell him, since he most likely already knows the location of my cell phone since Romeo has been carrying it. “I want to stop up and talk to you about something.”
“Is it something that we can discuss over the phone?” he asks, sounding distracted. There is a lot paper shuffling going on in the background and I hear the distinct sound of a paper shredder at work.
“No. I want to talk with you about Bill and Carly,” I tell him bluntly. “I think it would be best if we talked in person, don’t you?”
