Shattered Lies (Web of Lies #3)(29)
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Lizzy asked.
“No. Gene Rankin, the butler, is taking care of my arrival at the White House.”
“Lizzy,” Tate said, drawing her attention from Birch. “Be careful tonight.”
“Thanks.” Lizzy looked at her group and walked out the door. She only hoped she’d make it back to them.
* * *
Alex slugged back another energy drink. He hadn’t slept in . . . well, long enough that he needed at least two more drinks to make it through the work he had to get done. His eyes were dry and bloodshot and his fingers were cramped, but he couldn’t stop now. He had turned the IRS and DEA onto Davenport Bank. He’d sent all the information they’d need to make their case. But he’s also sent it to the heads of every intelligence agency and multiple DEA offices all over the US to make sure no one would drop the ball.
Then he’d hacked Manuel’s bank and locked them out. They couldn’t wire any money in or out without a password, a password they’d never get. If Manuel was good, and he was, he’d have his own hacker on it, but it would take time. That would allow the IRS and DEA time to move in and shut down his US contacts. The money for Mollia Domini was drying up.
The chat screen on the private secure group with his hacker friends popped up.
Dark Surfer: Roland Westwood has his hand in everything and everyone. And I mean that both figuratively and literally. His clients read as the top 100 richest people in the world. Or, I should say, his grandmother’s bank. Roland has been investigated numerous times for insider trading, but walks away each time. It seems with each cleared investigation he gets more and more whales as clients. It’s hard to tell who is legit and who isn’t. Personally, Roland has been linked to actresses, models, and most recently to heiress Blythe Sterling, the granddaughter of George Stanworth. They are going to be at some birthday party for Kerra Ruby tonight.
Rock Star: I found plenty linking Roland to Manuel. The trouble is, like Dark Surfer, I have found too many ties with powerful people to know what to make of it. I’m slowly hacking into as many accounts as I can. I can’t get into Sebastian Abel’s or Bertie Geofferies’s accounts yet. They must hire even better hackers than us at their tech companies. I already lost one computer to a virus SA Tech’s firewall installed as I was trying to hack them. I did get into Trip Kameron’s accounts and social media. It’s clear Trip and Manuel are close. But what was interesting was the money that Vivian Geofferies was paying to Trip who was then sending part of it to Manuel. What I also found out from Vivian and Trip’s private messages to each other—Manuel will be in LA tonight for that same birthday party. He’ll be on US soil.
Alex read the message three times, thinking his eyes were deceiving him. Valeria, Lizzy, Grant, and Dalton were already en route to that very party. Dalton and Grant weren’t invited, they were going to be keeping an eye on the perimeter, but Valeria and Lizzy had invitations. Manuel would recognize Valeria instantly.
Alex dove for his phone. In his sleep-deprived, artificially hyped state, he hit the phone and sent it crashing to the floor behind his table. Falling to the floor, Alex crawled on shaky arms and legs under the table to the phone. He sat down hard and slowly reached for the phone. He took a deep breath and called Lizzy.
“Dude.”
13
“I don’t like this,” Dalton said, crossing his arms as Lizzy and Valeria stepped from the private jet.
“I don’t either,” Grant said, similarly crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Valeria.
Valeria looked down at her mini dress. It was the most expensive dress she’d ever worn and surprisingly loved it. “It’s designer.”
“If there’s a slight breeze, your arse will on display.”
“I think that’s the point.” Valeria smiled happily. She looked at Dalton pulling Lizzy’s top up to cover her breasts. They had boarded the jet and found two packages waiting for them from Sebastian. There was a handwritten note saying they needed to dress appropriately for the party. Valeria’s dress was silver and draped in a halter top down her front, leaving her back exposed, and then down to a very short skirt. Lizzy’s was the same, but in black. The headlights of a limousine broke the bickering. Valeria reached up her skirt and pulled out her gun.
“Where did that come from?” Grant asked as his voice changed from demanding to seductive. Apparently he wasn’t concerned about a nearing car.
Valeria wanted to roll her eyes, but they were glued to Grant’s as they trailed down her body and stopped between her legs. Her body flushed as she read his wanting look, but then, in an instant, he stepped back and was all business.
Valeria watched the limo pull to a stop next to them, the back window rolled down. “Get in.”
“Sebastian?” Lizzy sputtered with anger as she replaced her gun in the depths of her cleavage. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I’m your way into the party.”
Dalton and Grant felt the tension and stepped forward, shielding the women. Lizzy rolled her eyes at Valeria and the two pushed past them. “You said no strings.”
“There aren’t any strings. I was invited to the party. The only way I could get you invitations was if you were with me. You’re my dates.”