14
It took longer than Holt wanted to get his sister on her way. In all the chaos, he’d entirely forgotten she was stopping by. By the time he’d answered her myriad questions—mostly with a lot of “We don’t know”—Mia had finished repairs on the floor.
“Seriously, Had, I’ve got to deal with this.”
“Fine. I’ll get out of your hair, if only because I need to get back to Knoxville to catch my flight.”
He walked her out to her rental car, wishing things weren’t such a mess and that he had more time to spend with her. “Text me when you get home, okay?”
“Yes, Dad.” Hadley rolled her eyes but grabbed him in a hug. “And hey, I really hope I didn’t accidentally muck things up for you with Cayla yesterday. I think she’s perfect for you.”
It meant something to have his sister’s approval, even if he hadn’t asked for it. Maybe, on some level, that had also been part of why he hadn’t told Hadley about his precipitous marriage. Because he knew she needed it, he found the ghost of a smile. “I think we’re sorted. Thanks.”
She slid into the driver’s seat. “Love you, Jerkface.”
“Love you back, Squirt.”
He stood for a moment, watching her drive away. His gaze automatically shifted across the street. Mia’s truck was parked beside Cayla’s car. Good. Hopefully, they’d both stay occupied enough finishing up her office and not worry about the situation over here.
Jonah stood over Brax’s shoulder in the tiny office off the kitchen, as they both looked at the computer.
Holt leaned in the doorway. “Well?”
“I have scoured the internet, including that used restaurant supply site where we found that awesome deal on the original cases, but there ain’t jack to be had right now. Replacements are going to run in the several thousand dollar range.”
“Not good.” Shifting on his feet, Holt rubbed at his bad knee. “I mean, we can make a claim on our insurance, but how’s it going to look to be doing that straight out of the gate? What kind of rate increase might we expect over the long-term if we do that?”
Jonah straightened, folding his arms. “I mean, technically, if we all pool our funds, we can pull off buying new ones outright.”
Brax twisted around to look at them both. “True, but I’ve got some financial responsibilities I didn’t have when I signed on for this. It’s only right that I contribute to the cost of the home renovations with Mia. I already put as much as I was comfortable putting in on the front end so we wouldn’t have to take out lines of credit to pay for construction and startup.”
“And I’ve got a responsibility to keep a cushion in savings for my family.” The words slipped out before Holt could think better of them. When the hell had he started thinking in those terms?
His friends both went brows up.
“So, it’s getting serious.” Jonah didn’t phrase it as a question.
What was the point of pussyfooting around it? “Yeah. Yeah, I think it is.”
“Good for you, brother,” Brax declared.
Holt moved aside so they could come out of the office.
Jonah clapped him on the shoulder as he passed. “Yeah. We’re happy for you, man. And it’s totally fine. We went through this whole process without taking out any business loans. This would be a small one, in the grand scheme of things. We’ll go on down to the bank. It shouldn’t be that big a deal.”
As there was no time like the present, they loaded up in Jonah’s truck and headed downtown. They strode in as a unit. Naturally, Jonah knew half the people there. Holt stood back while he did the glad-handing that seemed to go along with small-town life. A few minutes later, a customer service rep led them back to an office. Because his knee was aching, he took one of the two chairs available. Jonah took the other, and Brax stood sentry behind them.
The CSR folded her hands and offered a smile. “Now, what can I do for you, gentlemen?”
As the resident hometown boy, Jonah took point. “We’re looking at a small business loan. We had some vandalism up at our place last night and need to replace some equipment.” He told her the amount they were looking for.
“All right. I’ll just need to get some information from the three of you.” One by one, they provided the details requested. The woman’s fingers flew over the keyboard, filling out the requisite paperwork. She finished with an enthusiastic keystroke. “There now. Let’s see what kind of rates the system spits back out.”
The desktop computer made a humming noise.
“This old thing’s a little slow.” She flashed another smile and turned back to the screen.
Holt knew something was wrong immediately. Her lips pressed together, and her brows pulled down. A few more clicks to confirm whatever she’d found, and she turned back to them, folding her hands with the finality of shutting a door.
“I’m afraid the bank won’t be able to extend you that line of credit.” The tone and expression were apologetic.
Jonah, ever affable, just arched a brow. “What’s the problem?”
She hesitated. “Well, your credit scores aren’t high enough, and there are some concerning patterns in your credit reports.”
Holt’s gut twisted.
“Concerning patterns?” Brax asked. “We haven’t been using credit at all for this business, and for the most part, we were all out of the country deployed for years before that.”
The woman’s expression turned sympathetic. “Y’all all may want to pull your credit reports and make sure you haven’t been victims of fraud.”
Fraud. Identity theft.
The three of them exchanged a look. Petty vandalism might not be like Raynor, but this was exactly the shit he’d gone to prison for.
Knowing it wouldn’t get dealt with here, they all rose without a fuss, thanked the woman, and left the bank.
Nobody said anything until they got in the truck.
Brax leaned forward, bracing his arms on the front seats. “This sounds bad.”
“No reason to panic until we have all the intel,” Jonah insisted. “We’ll head to my place. We won’t get interrupted there.”
Half an hour later, they were all poring over copies of their respective credit reports. Reports that told a damning story. Multiple accounts had been opened for all of them. Nearly a hundred grand of debt had already been run up in mere weeks across the three of them.
Holt shook his head. “I don’t understand. As soon as Cayla told me, I locked my credit down. I didn’t think to mention it to you two at the time because there was no reason to think he’d be coming after you. But this shouldn’t be possible.”
Brax tossed his report onto the coffee table. “Well, looks like it is. And looks like Raynor’s got more balls than we gave him credit for. We do take this as confirmation that it’s him, right?”
“Has to be. Cayla said he had skills.” So much for his earlier theory. Scrubbing both hands over his face, Holt swore. “I’ve been telling her we’d be fine. That we were being careful. Vigilant. But clearly I missed something. And now you two have been dragged into all this because of me.” Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders. He’d gotten into this to protect her and now his friends and prospectively his business were getting dragged down with him.
“Recriminations aren’t going to help a damned thing,” Jonah pointed out. “So, what are we gonna do?”