Any Way You Want It (Brand Clan #2)(20)

“It’s really good to see you, sir,” Remy said again. “How’s Mrs. Keegan?”

“She’s doing great. Glad to be back home with her family and friends for good. And we just learned that our eldest is expecting her first child.”

“That’s wonderful,” Remy said warmly. “Congratulations, Grandpa.”

“Thank you.” Keegan smiled, beaming with pride. “And how’s your family?”

“Everyone’s doing really well.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. Give them my best, will you?”

Remy smiled. “I sure will.”

Keegan gestured around the office. “This is quite an outfit you got here. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you, sir,” Remy murmured, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not the same as being in the Teams, but it’ll do for now.”

Keegan snorted. “Who’re you fooling? Between you and your billionaire brother, Roderick—not to mention Royce and River—some folks are predicting that the Brand boys will be running the Windy City before too long.”

Remy chuckled wryly. “I don’t know about all that. And speaking of running the city, how are things going at Mayor Norwood’s office?”

“Good, good.” After retiring from the service, Keegan had returned home to Chicago and gone into politics, becoming a trusted senior advisor to the mayor. “We’re gearing up for his reelection campaign, so I’ve been scouting the field, assessing the strengths and weaknesses of the other candidates.”

Remy nodded. Of course Keegan would approach politics as if he were preparing for a combat mission—gathering intel on the enemy, checking the maps and charts, doing the necessary reconnaissance before planning an attack strategy.

“What can you tell me about Landis Kennedy?”

Remy frowned, his gut tightening at the mention of a name he hadn’t heard in years. “Is he running for mayor?” he asked, answering Keegan’s question with a question.

“He’s expected to throw his hat into the ring any day now,” Keegan replied. “And so far, he’s the one we’re most worried about. He has the financial resources and name recognition as an alderman, and he’s been gunning for the black vote by cozying up to church leaders on the South Side. Hell, he even has the support of some Teamsters who’re soured on the mayor after that whole city budget fiasco last year.”

Remy’s frown deepened at the idea of Zandra’s estranged father becoming the next mayor. Though Remy generally regarded politicians as scum-sucking bottom feeders, Landis Kennedy was particularly abhorrent. He was a cold, sadistic motherf*cker who’d tormented his wife and daughter for years, robbing Zandra of her childhood and warping her perception of men. Some of Remy’s most violent fantasies involved him cornering Kennedy in a dark alley and dragging the blade of his KA-BAR knife across the man’s throat. Slowly, so the bastard would see the promise of his own death in Remy’s eyes before he took his last breath.

Yeah, he hated the guy that much.

Watching the play of emotions across his face, Keegan observed dryly, “I take it there’s no love lost between you and the alderman.”

“Let’s just say I’d sooner vote for Osama bin Laden than Landis Kennedy,” Remy muttered darkly.

“I see.” Keegan eyed him knowingly. “Your animosity wouldn’t have anything to do with your long-standing friendship with Kennedy’s daughter, would it?”

Remy regarded Keegan for a long moment, then leaned forward in his chair and asked in a very low voice, “What’s this about, Lieutenant?”

The air crackled between the two men as they stared at each other.

Keegan was the first to glance away, his lips pressed into a thin line. “The reason I came here today is to tell you that the mayor knows about Zandra Kennedy, and he’s planning to use her escort agency against her father.”

Remy scowled. “That’s ridiculous. Zandra has nothing to do with the old man. She hasn’t seen or spoken to him in ten years.”

Keegan gave a snort of grim laughter. “Since when has that ever mattered in politics? Look how they tried to crucify Obama over his illegal immigrant aunt. It didn’t matter that he really didn’t know that poor woman. She was fair game, and so is Zandra Kennedy.”

Remy clenched his jaw, his gut churning with dread. The last thing he wanted was Zandra’s good name and reputation being dragged through the mud of Chicago politics. She’d be savaged by her father’s campaign rivals and the media, who would cast her in the same sleazy tabloid light as Heidi Fleiss and the D.C. Madam.

“The mayor wants me to hire a private investigator to find out if Zandra’s escorts are engaging in prostitution,” Keegan explained. “He wants the smoking gun that will torpedo Kennedy’s candidacy. That’s why I came to you.”

Remy glared at him. “If you think I’m going to investigate Zandra’s agency behind her back,” he growled, “think again.”

Keegan gave him a level look. “If you turn me down, Norwood will hire another firm. Can you guarantee that no illegal behavior will be uncovered?”

Remy frowned, remembering how Roderick and Lena met. She’d been one of Zandra’s escorts, and she’d slept with Roderick on their first date. Though they wound up falling madly in love and getting married, their relationship demonstrated that it was possible for any of Zandra’s girls to break the rules on any given night.