The Last King by Katee Robert

Author:Katee Robert
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2018-04-03T04:00:00+00:00

Beckett waited to question Samara while they ate breakfast, and then he waited some more. Her conflict was written all over her face, which was all he needed to see to know that Lydia was the reason she was there. He doubted his aunt sent Samara with false information, which meant she’d done something shitty.

He glanced at the manila folder Frank had left. It had pictures of Lydia sitting at a table with his father in what appeared to be a heated conversation. While he’d half hoped to see some evidence of her spiking his father’s drink, there was nothing as damning as that. Judging by the time stamps on the photos, they had been taken two short hours before his father died. There was no evidence of a meal, but they both had drinks at the table. It seemed to give lie to his aunt’s story, but there was nothing that couldn’t be explained away if she was creative enough.

“I think Lydia had something to do with the fire.”

Beckett froze, his mug of coffee halfway to his mouth. “What did you say?”

“Lydia.” Samara poked at her omelet. “Did you tell her about the fire?”

“She already knew.” The time for holding back information was past. He had to decide now—did he trust Samara enough to tell her everything he knew? Or was he going to keep her close while trying to dissemble? Beckett had his answer before he’d finished the thought. “She came by to see me Sunday as the fire inspector was leaving. We didn’t talk specifically about the fire for the most part—it was just more of the manipulative bullshit that the Kings are known for.”

“Beckett…you’re a King.”

He was a King, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be lumped in with all the insanity. Some of it was impossible to avoid, but that didn’t mean he had to sink to Lydia’s level. Kind of like you sank to her level when you went around the bidding process and secured the renewal of the government contract. He could argue that it was different until he was blue in the face, but it didn’t change the fact that he had pulled a shitty-ass move. “Yes, I’m a King.”

Samara seemed to chew on that for a moment. “What did the fire inspector have to say?”

“It was definitely started intentionally. If the lobby wasn’t mostly marble and steel, it would have spread a lot faster and we might not be having this conversation today. The building wasn’t locked up completely—anyone with a key could have gotten in, and that puts the suspect list at over a hundred people.” He saw the question forming and answered it. “No, to the best of my knowledge, Lydia doesn’t have a key.” Unless one of his defecting employees had passed theirs along—or allowed their key to be duplicated.

She seemed to read between the lines of what he wasn’t saying. “But several of the people she poached from you did.”

“All of them did.” There had been

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