Get the fuck over here, stat, Wyatt. SOS. Brooks.
What the hell? Guess someone had snitched, likely the Turners, and now there would be hell to pay. I hoped they had the sense not to dismember me in front of Harley. I hoped she’d live a happy (and celibate) life after I was gone.
I tore out of South Banks going an easy ninety. Made it to East Point in a record fifteen minutes. As I pulled through the giant security gates of the Eastern Manor neighborhood, I saw the County Medical Examiner pull out of the complex.
What the hell was going on with these crazy rich people?
When I arrived at Brooks, I locked my car and rang the bell. Mrs. Patterson opened the door and ushered me in quickly with her hand.
“Thank God you’re here, Wyatt. Grab some coffee and go into the den. They’re in there and things are not looking good.”
“I fucked up,” I shrugged at the middle-aged, stern, but kind woman.
“No, Mr. Dunne. It’s Harley, I’m afraid. You’re so good with the engines, maybe you can help the poor dear get herself out of this sticky situation.”
I skipped the coffee and went right to the den.
Mr. Brooks was pacing, a lit cigar in his hand. Harley and Stefano were standing in front of the fireplace, with their hands behind their backs like they were lining up for Von Trapp family roll call.
“Wyatt!” Harley said.
“Ah, Dunne, you’re here. Thank God.”
“What the hell is going on?” I couldn’t take the suspense.
“Yes, well, seems the kids had themselves a soiree of sorts last night. Lots of drinking, some recreational drugs, harmless get-together really. Harley needs to settle down and find herself—”
“Dad!” Harley objected. He shot her a look and she zipped her lip immediately.
“Harmless little ball, really, until Mrs. Patterson was alerted this morning to a body floating face down in our swimming pool.”
“Holy Fucking Christ,” I said. I looked at Harley and scanned her face. She was flushed but pure poker. Stefano was so hungover he could barely keep his eyes open.
“Has been identified as a certain Mr. Kresley, from right here in East Point. Toxicology is pending, of course, but they were able to establish a proximate time of death.”
“It’s not my fault if frat boys can’t swim,” Harley interjected.
“Say nothing, my girl, for I fear you will only incriminate yourself further.”
I held my breath as the name Kresley ripped through my muscles like a firestorm making my blood boil.
“Dunne, let me speak plainly. But by the established time of death, everyone had left the party except for Harley and her girlfriends. Gianna Delacourt posted a live photo of the girls in this den,” he said, sighing. “The closest exit to the pool, and in the flash that bounced off from that dear picture of her mother, God rest her soul. There appears to be an aberration in the pool.”
“An aberration, sir?”
“An irregularity. Some…thing. There’s something in the pool in the photo, goddamn it, Dunne.”
“That doesn’t mean Harley had anything to do with it,” I challenged my employer.
“Her dress from last night is covered with mud and vomit at the hem,” he said, sounding exhausted.
“Burn it,” Harley said.
“I’ve contracted a great law firm, but my fear is Harley will not pass a polygraph, her nature being as it is.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Brooks, I think you can buy your way out of this.”
My blood pressure was through the roof. My pulse shot sky high. I wanted to tear into Harley with my teeth and steal her breath with my kisses.
“I called you, Dunne, because you have always been the man for the job. You did well with Harley this past week and I think now what has to be done is to send her away. Harley suggested Vegas, but I’m thinking as far away from Wexler as possible. As you know, we have a chateau on the Amalfi Coast. It’s humble with four or so bedrooms overlooking the sea. I thought perhaps you could work on the vehicles we have there. Our warehouse in town houses quite the collection and they could all use some fine tuning before we begin our production overseas.”
“I see,” I said to him, not really seeing the whole picture.
“Italy!” Harley said. Her eyes met mine and the fire between us was so palpable that Stefano opened his eyes fully and took me in with surprise as if seeing me for the first time.
“Six months, or maybe a year, is all I’m asking. Just lay low and keep to yourselves. Harley needs to be dealt with a very firm hand. She’s whip smart, Dunne, but rebellious and I hate to put it all on you.”
“I can handle Harley, sir,” I told him with a stern nod of my head.
“Don’t let her out of your sight. Don’t let her mingle with the locals, and please, dear God, no Italian men, Dunne. I’d rather she ended up in South Banks than ball and chained to a Mafioso type.”