Harold nodded. “You were under so much stress, Fredrick, that I couldn’t add to it, so I just made sure we didn’t talk about calling Mr. Volkov and his partner in front of anyone.”
“Fortunately, it isn’t known that I have a partner. I ask my clients to keep that confidential. In fact, I demand that it is kept confidential. If you hire me, know I don’t play around. The terms are your life if you double-cross me.”
He pinned Atwater with his hard gaze, knowing the man could see the killer in him. He wanted Atwater to see he meant it. He had Meiling to protect now. Before, he just didn’t give a fuck. Now, killing wasn’t about the violence he needed, it was about keeping Meiling safe.
“My life isn’t worth much if you can’t help me,” Atwater said.
Gedeon indicated Meiling, who had been silent the entire time. She usually was. If she had input, it was normally in the form of a question, and that would come later, when they were discussing the aspects of the case. “This is my partner, Meiling. What can we do for you?”
Atwater raked both hands through his hair. “I don’t even know where to start, Volkov. I should have called you in right away. Instead, I tried to handle this on my own and I just made it worse.” He shook his head. “So much worse.”
“Let’s sit down and start at the beginning,” Gedeon suggested. “We take care of problems. You wouldn’t have called us if you didn’t think we could help.”
“It’s your reputation for doing the impossible that had me calling you.” Atwater pulled out a chair and dropped into it, as if his body was far too heavy to stay on his feet. “Really, it was Harold’s suggestion. I didn’t know what to do. He was the one who said to call you.”
Gedeon turned his gaze on Atwater’s man. “Where did you hear of me?”
“I have a friend, Elijah Lospostos, here in San Antonio, and we were talking one day. I told him I had some trouble going on and wasn’t certain what to do. I didn’t tell him what it was. I said I didn’t want to involve him or Fredrick. He saw that I was worried, and he asked me what was up. I just said I had trouble. He said if it was bad, he knew of a man who sometimes could help. He warned me that the number he was giving me was confidential and not to give it to anyone else. He said just having it could get me killed. Elijah doesn’t mess around and he isn’t prone to dramatics. I almost didn’t make the suggestion to Fredrick, but we didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Elijah Lospostos was a big name in the mafia world. He held a huge territory and ruled with an iron fist. One didn’t cross Elijah and live long. He’d been born into a crime family and had the mantle passed down to him. He hadn’t had much choice in the matter. Gedeon knew him to be a man of his word. He didn’t deal in human trafficking as far as Gedeon was aware. He had a wife and family and was very careful with who he let into his world. Harold Brinks wouldn’t dare drop Elijah’s name knowing that Elijah would carve him into little pieces if he was lying. Gedeon had to believe the man was telling the truth. He glanced at Meiling.
Her nod was nearly imperceptible. She thought the man sounded honest as well.
“What’s going on, Atwater?” Gedeon asked.
Atwater just continued to shake his head. It was Harold who crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the door and took up the narrative. “Fredrick goes over the books himself. He’s very good with numbers, always has been. It doesn’t matter how many businesses he’s involved with; he always double-checks everything. Because some of the people he does business with are very concerned with the amount of money owed to them with each transaction, it is more important than ever that every penny is accounted for.”
“I take it the numbers weren’t adding up.”
Harold shook his head. “At first, small amounts of money were missing. Eventually, they became larger and larger amounts. Naturally, Fredrick replaced the money when he paid his partners their share. We tried to track the losses. He began to get blackmail threats. Whoever was stealing from him would tell his partners if he didn’t give them large sums of money.”
“Did you rule out his partners?”
Harold frowned. “I’m out of my depth at this sort of thing. I wasn’t cut out to be a spy or sleuth. I’m a good bodyguard.”
“And a good friend,” Atwater said, looking up for the first time. “If it was just the money and the blackmail, I would have gone to my partners. I’ve known them nearly forty years. When I didn’t show signs of cooperating, they took my little Lilith.” He picked up the top photograph with shaking hands. “Her mother died in childbirth. She’s four years old and all I have left. I’d give anything for her. Twice I’ve paid their ransom, but they haven’t returned her. I don’t think they’re going to. The money is still disappearing from the business transactions and the threat of blackmail continues. I know it’s the same people even though they want me to believe it’s not.”