Cracked Kingdom (The Royals #5)(71)

I guess I’m Hartley’s family now.

“This is it,” she whispers. Hart’s backyard is decent-sized but bare, with no real landscaping work done. Mostly grass and a couple trees. Her family’s mansion is dark except for a single room on the end of the first floor where a blue light flickers. Someone’s watching television.

“The fourth window over on the first floor is my dad’s office.”

I study the back. The wraparound porch has two sets of French doors, one set leading to the kitchen, the other to the family room. The latter doors are where Hart thinks we can go in. Apparently the security alarm hasn’t worked in years, so I’m not overly concerned that alarm bells will go off once we enter the house.

“What’s your plan of attack?” I ask her.

“From what you said, Dad was pretty bold. He met with people in the house, so I bet he has stuff in his office.”

“Wouldn’t it be in a safe?”

“Maybe? But what’s the harm in looking? What’s he going to do? Kick me out?”

He might hit you and then I’d have to hit him back. But I keep my reservations to myself.

She creeps over to peek inside the family room. “Mom’s on the couch, but I think she’s sleeping.”

I pop up from my crouched position to take a brief inventory of the scene. Mrs. Wright does look like she's out. Her head is tilted awkwardly to the side and the remote is lying in her slack hand. Mr. Wright isn’t around.

“Maybe he’s out meeting with a client,” Hart says quietly.

We sidle along the house and stop below her dad’s office. She peers in the window and gives me the thumbs up sign. The office is empty. She scuttles over to a large metal barbecue and reaches underneath, where she swears there is a key to the patio doors. I hear the scrape of metal against metal and a small exclamation of excitement.

“I was right,” she crows, flashing a key in front of my eyes.

“Awesome. Let’s go.” Her enthusiasm is contagious, and I tell myself to loosen up. There’s no real danger here. This is her fucking family house. If she wants to case her father’s office, then that’s what we’re going to do.

She fits the key into the lock and starts to turn the handle when we hear his voice.

We both drop to the ground, lying as flat as we can against the concrete slab.

“I told you I’m taking care of it, but these matters are delicate and need to be dealt with slowly and carefully, otherwise we’re both going to get into trouble.”

Hartley reaches out and grabs my hand. I squeeze it back. She bats at it. She wants something.

“What?” I mouth.

She holds her hand up to her ear. She wants me to call someone?

No, she’s shaking her head. She mimics holding a phone and then points it upward. It finally occurs to me. She wants me to record this.

I pull out my phone and open the voice memo app to start recording. I hope this works.

“I want to be paid in cash. I don’t care how difficult it is to get five million in cash. That’s how I want to be paid.”

Five million? No wonder he can afford to live in this house on a DA’s salary. It must be a big case, too, because what else would be worth that? A sick feeling burbles in my gut. There’s only one really big case that’s going on in Bayview right now—Steve O’Halloran’s murder trial.

“I did try to scare the girl into not testifying, but she’s stubborn. So I’m going to have to fix the matter by botching some evidence. Your attorneys should be smart enough to get the case dismissed on those grounds.”

There’s another moment of silence as Mr. Wright listens to the caller.

“If you’re so worried about your daughter’s testimony, then my suggestion is to make it so she can’t testify. Do you see me having a problem with my daughter? I know how to keep the little bitch in line.”

My veins harden to ice. Make it that Ella can’t testify? Is he suggesting Steve kill Ella? Rage and fear form a lethal combo in my chest, making my ribs ache. No way. No fucking way is Steve getting his hands on Ella.

Beside me, Hartley is equally stricken. The little bitch line hurt her, I can see it in her eyes. Not for the first time, I wish I could strangle her father to death. And if I had any doubts before about what this conversation means, Mr. Wright has now crushed them. Steve is trying to buy his way out of the trial, and Wright is more than happy to help, so long as he gets his payout.

“I want half tomorrow, a deposit of sorts. I won’t go near that evidence until I have half the money. Meet me at Winwood Park at ten. And remember, I want cash.”

A wave of nausea crashes over me. Hart didn’t ask me to back her up hoping to put her dad in prison. She just wants to be able to free her sister. But I can’t be quiet about what I’ve just heard. Ella has to know that her sperm donor, the one that tried to kill her, is trying to weasel his way out of serving any time for killing my dad’s former girlfriend. And that he might be coming after her again to stop her from testifying against him.

This is a fucking awful dilemma.

“That asshole,” Mr. Wright fumes. He disappears from the door and we hear him yell, “I’m hungry! Make me a sandwich,” his voice fading with each word.

Hartley jumps to her feet and gestures for me to follow her. We race back in the direction we came from, and she doesn’t stop running until we reach Durand. She opens the door with shaking hands and says, “Go. Please, let’s go.”