Lethal Trust by Lala Corriere

Author:Lala Corriere [Corriere, Lala]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bridge Publishing
Published: 2019-06-10T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY

NEXT UP ON MY LIST was my return to Hunter Childs, maybe because he was so aloof at the fiesta.

Although Schlep had spoken with Taylor Childs, her relationship with this man that had been booted off the team intrigued me. I wanted information on him in case he held a grudge. I called for Schlep to do a background check on the failed and re-risen to grace football player.

Hunter would be hard to corral. That was apparent in his continuing refusal to meet with me face-to-face, and when he all but ignored me at the pool bar. He stopped taking my calls nor did he return them. Born a product of money and born or raised to be a narcissist, Hunter seemed to think he knew how to play the game. No. I did not like the man. I called him again, anyway, but this time I borrowed Breecie’s office phone to place the call. He answered on the first ring.

The man proved to be elusive on the phone and also within the massive information I was pulling up on him when researching my regular sources.

“This is my private number, Ms. Clark. How did you obtain it?”

I wanted to tell him that I had Anthony Bibbione’s private number that he changed bi-weekly, but before I could respond he answered his own question. “Of course, step-sister, Stacie. Her approach to our family business is ridiculous and I feel like you are taking advantage of her.”

“You’d help me wrap up my work if you’d just meet with me. I can save you time and meet you at the stadium if you like, or another place of business,” I said.

“When I’m there I’m working.”

“Okay. Where are you now? I can meet you there.”

“I’m at home with the New York Times and my coffee and trying to enjoy both.”

“Since I have you on the phone, how about giving me five minutes?”

Through the pause I could hear that he wasn’t sipping his coffee. He was gulping it. I wasn’t sure it was coffee.

“You have five minutes, and that’s it. I don’t want you calling this number again,” he snapped.

“Great. Let’s start with what exactly your title is within the Tucson Scorpions.”

“I’ve worked my way up the ranks, not that I started off selling hotdogs and sodas. I came to the team with an MBA.”

I could almost see him smirking. “Impressive. I had no idea. I know that your deceased sibling, Manny, held an impressive MBA. I didn’t catch that about you. My bad. And what do you do now?”

“I’m in operations.”

“But what do you do?” I persisted.

“Look, I don’t have the time or the desire to educate you in the matter of how the NFL organizations work.”

Of course, he didn’t have to as I knew he was a tolerated peon with no title other than his last name. I had to wonder if that pissed the arrogant rug rat off just a bit.

“Then let me move on. How is your personal life? I ask because I didn’t see you with anyone the night of your mother’s fiesta party.

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