“We lost it.”
That grabs my attention. “Wait, what?”
“We lost it,” he repeats.
“How did we lose it? The deal was done. Hands were shaken. Promises given.”
“Contracts were not signed.”
“A man’s word is his—”
“Bond, I know. But Joe Rees got a last-minute bid, and it was about two percent higher than yours, so he went with it.”
“Two percent?”
“Yeah, I know. It’s a tiny margin. It’s almost like they knew how much you bid and then cranked it up just enough to make Rees bail on you.”
“That fucking sucks. Who was the last-minute bidder?”
“Some trading LLC. We’re tracking down who is behind it, but the paper trail is dense. Someone’s purposely hiding their identity. The registered agent is some company that offers that service out of Delaware and the corporate headquarters is in Barbados.”
“So a shell. A fake company.”
“Probably.”
“Why would they want the Park Hill property? It doesn’t even have access to the waterfront without going through my building next door. I own all those mineral rights,” I rage.
“I know. It’s a dumb move, and they’re going to have to pay an access fee, which will eat into their margins. That’s why it feels like it’s targeted toward you.”
“Perfect,” I remark sarcastically. “Some asshole spending all his money on getting a hollow revenge is exactly what I need at this moment. I can survive the loss of Park Hill, but I’ll be damned if the other guy walks away unscathed. Keep digging and find out the face behind all those incorporations. There’ll be a real person somewhere. Don’t call me unless it’s about the buyer or Leila.” I disconnect and keep driving. It’s insane of me to think I’m going to find her on the street, but I can’t sit back and do nothing. Not a minute later, it’s Connor again.
“Buyer or Leila?”
“Neither.” He sounds breathless.
“I don’t want to hear it.” I lean forward to hang up when he says, “It’s the D1 Tower.”
Alarm spikes in my blood. The D1 Tower was where I last saw Leila. She fled the building and hopped in a taxi before I could get to the door. Some asshole had moved my car, and it took me ten minutes to find it. In that span of time, Leila disappeared. “What about it?”
“Some woman broke in, pulled the fire alarm, and got injured. I bet she’s going to try to sue us. I’m going over to the hospital right now and see if I can get her to agree to a nominal settlement in exchange for not pressing charges.”
“No. I’ll do it. You need to keep on the hunt for Leila and the buyer of Park Hill.” I make a sharp right. “The hospital is only five minutes from me.” I peek at the skyline. “I can see the top of the building. Call me if anything changes.”
“Okay. There are police at the door. I’ll let them know you’re coming,” he says, his voice full of relief.
I throw my keys to the valet and hustle inside. Maybe this woman is related to the buyer of the Park Hill project. It seems like a person hellbent on revenge would be the type to also try to destroy my existing properties. Connor texts me the patient room number and outside the door, I show my ID to the police officer.
The cop hands my ID back. “She’s sedated right now. I don’t know how many questions she can answer.”
“Might as well give it a try. If something is useful, you’ll be able to go home.”
That perks him up, and he steps to the side. “Have at it.”
Not three steps into the room, horror swamps me. Leila lies on the white hospital sheets, her arm handcuffed to the rail. A monitor is taped around her index finger, and the susurration of the pulse ox machine clicks and whirls in the background. My knees grow watery, and I’m forced to hold on to the railing of the bed to stay upright.
“What the hell, Leila?” My voice is hoarse as emotions of rage and fear scrape up my insides. “What are you doing here?”
She does not respond. I get nothing, not even an eye twitch. Something doesn’t fit here. Something is not right. I backtrack to the door and grab the officer by the shoulder.
“Why is she in here?” I ask. “Why’s she handcuffed to the bed?”
“Do you know her?” the man asks, his eyebrows beetling together.
“Yeah, that’s my fucking girlfriend. Uncuff her right now or you’re going to be facing a fucking lawsuit.” I haul him over to the bed.
He shakes me off. “Sir, this woman was caught vandalizing your building. We’re holding her in custody until she can be charged with trespassing, attempted arson, assault on a police officer—”
“Assault on an officer?”
“She tried to run and—”
“I want her handcuffs off right now. She was on that property with my permission, and you obviously scared the shit out of her, causing her to injure herself. So unless you and the city want to see a lawsuit that strips your pension, you will take the key out of your pocket right fucking now.” I’m about to commit a crime of my own.