“Shit,” I mumbled.
Dane took the iPad from me and scanned the page on-screen. His entire disposition hardened as he stared at a very incriminating piece of evidence we’d never pondered. Would never conceive of pondering.
“William Madsen,” he said through clenched teeth.
My mind worked a little too quickly on this one. Mostly because I was getting used to the threads of betrayal, even if every strand shocked me to the core of my being.
“Brought into the investments by your father?” I queried. “Or planted in your lives by Ethan?”
Dane’s head snapped up. We stared at each other.
I let the idea sink in.
Then I asked, “Exactly how well does Mikaela know Ethan Evans?”
Tension visibly gripped Dane. So much for working out his aggression.
He said, “I introduced them when I started work on the Lux.”
“Are you sure that’s the first time they met?”
“I can’t really be sure about anything, now can I, Ari?”
I winced. “No. But it seems they’d have to have a significant connection for her to smack him twice at the baptism—and not have him react.”
Dane’s expression turned grave.
I added, “I saw them, in a nook, remember? Intense conversation, smack. More intense conversation, another smack. The TV drama-type slap, like one woman finds out her best friend is sleeping with her husband and he’s decided to leave her for the friend—and the pre-nup sucks.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Sorry. Just giving you the severity level.”
“No, it’s not you.” He shook his head. “I’m just trying to figure out how this could all be.”
“When did the Madsens buy the estate down the road?”
“They moved in when I was five or six. Amano drove Mikaela and me to and from school for Mrs. Madsen. That’s how we became such close friends.”
“Close enough that she would know all about your comings and goings, your plans for the future, how well you did in school, what your special talents might be, like financial forecasting?”
“Ari—”
“Just hear me out,” I rushed on. “She could have easily been a spy for the society without even knowing it. All she had to do was answer casual, unassuming queries from her father, all posed under the guise of taking interest in her day. Since you two were friends, it wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary for her to tell him everything she knew about you.”
He pressed a finger and thumb to his brows, as though fighting off a migraine. I felt wretched for him.
“That still doesn’t make a direct connection with Ethan,” Dane said. “Madsen wouldn’t exactly have had him over for Sunday dinner—not if they were both society members; the ties are meant to be secretive. And besides, Madsen was rarely ever home, because he’s been a U.S. ambassador since I’ve known him. He’s always been overseas.”
Thinking back to the baptism, I said, “I can understand Mikaela being upset that Ethan knew you were alive and didn’t tell her. But enough to hit him? If anything, I thought that rage would be directed toward me. It wasn’t. In fact, she was shocked, but not volatile in any way. So why erupt with Ethan?”
“I have no idea. But you can be damn sure I’m going to find out.”
I set aside the iPad. Dane went back to plowing through the files, his frown deepening until it turned into more of a menacing glare. A lot of head shaking ensued.
A good hour or so passed and I said, “Dane, you can’t leave me in suspense here.”
“Sorry.” He groaned his disgruntlement. “So, they all went in together on several joint ventures from ’78 to ’83. But there are all of these receipts”—he held one up for me to see—“that show reimbursement to Bradley Bax for his percentage of the initial investments. One per venture.”