Skin Game by Ava Gray

Author:Ava Gray
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Fiction - Romance, Romance: Modern, paranormal, General, Romance, Fantasy, Historical, Romance - Contemporary, Occult fiction, Romance & Sagas, Fiction, Love stories, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780425231531
Publisher: Berkley Pub Group
Published: 2009-12-17T04:55:41+00:00

CHAPTER 17

Serrano never put all his eggs in one basket.

He would’ve given a lot to see Foster’s face when the man realized he knew about his secret visits to the nursing home; then he’d know exactly how valuable the information was. Regardless, it never hurt to have leverage over somebody. He couldn’t have Foster thinking he ran things. Trouble started that way.

Foster’s efficiency couldn’t be questioned, however. Serrano already had a dossier on his desk, detailing Ricci and Pasternak’s financial peccadilloes. He skimmed, underlining the more interesting transactions. Then he tapped his pen, thoughtful. There was something almost erotic about controlling someone else’s fate. He didn’t let himself think past that because he’d had some ridiculous, romantic idea about marrying a woman who was a virgin on their wedding night. Ruthlessly, he refocused his attention, refusing to acknowledge the bitter humiliation that lay beneath the surface.

Based on the patterns, it looked to him like the idiots at the Pair-A-Dice were laundering for somebody. Just as well, they lacked the brains to succeed at anything requiring more initiative. If he could figure out who they worked for, it might be more fun—and more devastating—to wreck that relationship. The IRS would mean possible jail time and loss of revenue, but criminals . . . well, they could be real animals.

Serrano smiled as an idea came to him. He rang through to his assistant and told her, “Hold my calls and cancel my ten-thirty. I don’t want to see anyone today.”

“Even Mr. Foster? He’ll be up in the evening to check in with you before he takes over for the night.”

“Yeah, even Foster. As far as the world’s concerned, I’m in Barbados.”

“Very good, sir.”

He made a few calls and worked through lunch. The faxes started coming through around noon, sources that owed him money and knew they’d better keep him happy. Serrano had Sandy bring him a sandwich and kept digging. A good brain had separated him from the rest of the punks in Philly, which was why they were dead and he was rich.

By half past five, he had a good idea who Pasternak and Ricci worked for. He gathered up all the financial documents—illegal, of course—and stashed them in a briefcase, intending to have someone reputable validate his conclusions. At this hour, he knew where to find Bobby.

Next, Serrano grabbed his coat and shrugged into it on the way out the door. Sandy had gone home at five, after poking a nervous head in the door to say good-bye to him. Generally, he would wait around until Foster arrived in the evening, exchange info, and then he’d head for home himself. Tonight he had another destination in mind.

His driver came out of the bar as Serrano strode toward the doors. He shook his head at Tonio. “I won’t need you. You can take the night off.”

“Really? Sweet.” The other man returned the way he’d come, presumably to finish a conversation he’d abandoned when he heard Serrano was on the way down.

In the garage, the limo was parked next to his silver Lexus SC430.

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