Mr. Notting Hill (Mister) - Page 70

“I actually don’t think they’ve been there that long. He’s been trying lots of different stuff.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“I hacked into his computer and his email. He hid the withdrawals well, but once I was in his system, he’d barely covered his tracks. He’s out of cash. His quest to find himself a rich wife in Monaco was fruitless, and from what I can make out, he thinks he let you and your family off too lightly.”

“Too lightly?” She shook her head, incredulous.

“He’s a con man, Parker. He doesn’t think like the rest of us. Anyway, he’s managed to fund his lifestyle with a series of small cons and getting payoffs from the families of women he’s dated once they’ve checked him out and figured out what kind of man he is.”

“Payoffs?”

“To make him go away and avoid unnecessary drama. He’s dating high-profile women from wealthy families. They don’t want the exposure. They don’t want him anywhere near them, so they pay him off. It’s the way he makes the money he needs to life the live of a wealthy man.”

She frowned. “My dad would have had him checked out. How come he didn’t find anything?”

“You two were engaged a long time ago. He was only at the start of his con-man, grifter—whatever you want to call it—career. He didn’t have any kind of track record. After you, he got more sophisticated. I guess he figured out what he wanted and how to get it. Anyway, from what I can make out, he feels like you got away scot-free and that your father should have given him some money to go away, just like all the families of the other women he’s been involved with since.”

“So he decided to take it for himself? Direct from my bank account. And from Sunrise.”

“Yes, he seems disorganized and a little erratic. He’s been searching for an angle in respect to you for a long time.”

“An angle? What does that mean?”

I didn’t want to hurt her but she needed to know this guy was dangerous. “A way of extorting money from you or your family.”

She frowned. “You’re sure?”

“Completely. I can show you what I’ve found if you like. I just haven’t worked out what his next move is. As soon as I do, you’ll be the first person I tell.”

“I . . .” Parker shook her head. “It’s been a long day. I’m exhausted. I need some time to think. Some space.”

“I know you’re upset with me, Parker, but I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was in a difficult position.”

She didn’t react. “I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight.”

Disappointment crashed over me. I wanted to pin her down and make her understand that I hadn’t meant to hurt her, but hopefully Parker was telling the truth when she said she just needed some space. I needed to respect that and give her what she was asking for.

“I’ll take the guest room,” I said.

She offered me a half-smile. “Thanks.”

I swallowed and watched her leave. Realistically, I probably wouldn’t make it to bed tonight anyway. Mike’s trail was hot and I wouldn’t rest until I figured out his next move.

I headed back to my study to be met with half a dozen notifications that I’d set up to alert me if there were any purchases on Mike’s credit card or any emails sent from his accounts—he had three, and only one was encrypted.

I checked his credit card first. It was a charge from BA for a flight to London tomorrow morning. I shivered and my heart rate ramped up. London might be a city of eight million, but it was still too near for my liking. And why had he only just booked his ticket? What had changed so last minute?

Tonight was going to be a long one. I wasn’t going to rest until I’d uncovered every last detail about Mike Wilson and his plans for my wife.

Yes, I’d been up all night. Yes, I was tired. But that wasn’t the reason why I was so completely and utterly furious.

It was just coming up to eight in the morning and I headed into the kitchen to find Parker eating her breakfast at the dining room table. She didn’t look up as I came in.

She thought she had a right to be pissed off that I had told her father she was marrying to get access to her trust fund? She had some kind of nerve.

“Doing anything today?” I asked, wondering if she’d tell me what she had planned.

“Going to work,” she said, still not meeting my eye.

“That all?” I asked.

She shrugged and took another spoonful of muesli.

“Not planning to tell me how you were meeting your ex-boyfriend for coffee this afternoon?”

Her spoon clanged against the bowl as she dropped it. “You’re spying on me?”

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