Into the Light (The Light, #1)(92)

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “But I’ll give it a try. What do you need?”

“I’m following a trail on some property. I keep seeing Entermann’s Realty coming up. I remembered that the realty firm was a client of Preston and Butler. Would it be possible to send me a list of all the properties they currently own?”

“Jeez, I’m not sure.”

“Jenn, I totally get it, but if you could, you’d save me a ton of time, and I can’t tell you how depressing this has been. I keep coming up empty on all counts.”

“Stella, for all those times you sat and listened to me bitch about Jimmy, I’ll give you this. Can you give me a day or two to get it all together? Then I’ll e-mail it to you.”

I bit my lip. “How is that scumbag?”

She laughed. “You always did have a way with words. I actually kicked his lazy ass to the curb.”

“Good for you!”

“Yeah, you convinced me I didn’t need a man around. We need to hang out sometime.”

“We do. I’d love to catch up. Guess what?”

“What?”

I smiled. “I’m kind of dating someone.”

“No way! Single-for-life Stella . . . we do need to catch up. Just tell me he’s not like Jimmy.”

“So far no, and he’s employed.”

“Sounds like a winner. I’ll get that list together as soon as I can and send it to your e-mail.”

“Thank you!”

I hung up and tried a search for Wilkens Industries. Founded in the early nineties by the original CEO, Marcel Clarkson . . . ding ding . . . it served as an umbrella for a few defined subsidiaries. In 2000 Clarkson stepped down due to medical reasons and was replaced by Matthew Lee. He was still the CEO. Under Lee’s supervision Wilkens Industries had grown exponentially. The board of directors read like a who’s who of nobodies. With last names like Smith, Johnson, and Jones and first names like Robert, Steve, and John, I couldn’t have found the individuals unless I’d entered a board meeting and asked for their Social Security numbers. Being as Wilkens was a privately owned company, accessing its payroll records would take some time. Though it was private, I was able to access tax information through IRS records. Currently the net worth of Wilkens Industries was listed near $55 million, with a plethora of diverse investments and subsidiaries, one of which was Entermann’s Realty. Ding.

Interesting.

As the clock neared four fifteen, I closed my search and sent a text to Dylan.



Stella: I’M MEETING A FRIEND FOR DRINKS. I’LL CALL WHEN I GET HOME.



Dylan: IF YOUR FRIEND IS A FIREMAN, WE NEED TO TALK BEFORE THEN.



I grinned.



Stella: YOU’RE THE ONLY PUBLIC SERVANT I PLAN ON TALKING TO. MY FRIEND’S FEMALE.



Dylan: GOOD TO HEAR.



“That’s the best smile I’ve seen on your face all day.”

I looked up at Foster. “I haven’t had a lot to smile about.”

“Still coming up empty?”

“I just feel like I search for days and all I do is go in circles.” I shook my head and stood. Oh, my back didn’t appreciate sitting at a computer all day, but after my scare in Highland Heights, I wasn’t in the mood for surveillance either. “Hey, I meant to tell you. I spoke to Dylan. Whatever you found isn’t connected to him. His parents are deceased, and he doesn’t have a rich uncle.”

He nodded. “I haven’t had a chance to follow up. I know you don’t want me to, but I probably will anyway, just to keep Bernard happy.”

I shrugged. “Fine, have at it. You’re wasting your time. I’d rather have you help me figure out how Uriel Harris is connected to Wilkens Industries.”

“Uriel Harris, the developer?”

“Yeah. He owned some property I’m looking into.”

“He owned a lot of property, paid way too much for it, and lost his shirt.”

“That’s what I saw. His loss was definitely Entermann’s gain.”

“Are you looking into Entermann’s holdings or their tax write-offs? They purchase shit property all over the city so they can take the loss. It’s not uncommon, but they’re one of the best.”

I nodded. “That makes sense. I was wondering why they owned so many dilapidated buildings. I hope to get the full list of their holdings soon.”

Foster smiled. “I’ll be glad to take a look when you do. Sometimes two sets of eyes are better than one.”

“Thanks,” I said, grabbing my purse and phone. “I need to run.”

“It was good to see the smile.”

I grinned as I made my way to the elevator.

This time as I walked into Jumbo’s, Tracy was waiting for me. She had a short glass of a dark drink. It looked like Coke, but judging by the way her face scrunched as she sipped, I suspected it contained something stronger. “Hi,” I said, sitting down. “Bad day at the morgue?”

She huffed, blowing her bangs in the air. “Is there ever a good day at the morgue?”





CHAPTER 27


Sara


Despite everyone’s best efforts to the contrary, my past continued to begin the day I awoke in the clinic, nearly four months ago. My cast was gone and my body healed. It was my mind that couldn’t remember. Over time my closest friends, Raquel and Elizabeth, shared secrets from our past, and Jacob continued to remind me of forgotten memories. Each story or statement helped me reconstruct a time I couldn’t recall and gave me glimpses into my former self.