This Cradle Won't Fall (The American Soldier Collection 18) - Page 29

“Where were you last week?” he asked, sounding pissed off. She wondered why. She had taken care of all her work responsibilities.

“Florida, taking a little time to soak up some rays and relax a little.”

“Alone?” he asked.

She was taken aback by his question.

“Does it matter?” He looked at Creagan and then back at her.

“We had a situation.” She squinted at him. She had just returned two nights ago and had heard nothing.

“What situation?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“No.”

“Product was stolen from our warehouse in Chicago.” She was shocked. Her father had a team that was in charge of that warehouse. She had just been there a few weeks before she left for Florida.

“What exactly was stolen and how?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Seems that items that should have been inventoried weren’t. Your father was supposed to be on top of this and he screwed up. That isn’t acceptable.”

“Nor is it the first time,” Creagan added. She was shocked. She’d known nothing of her father ever making any mistakes either.

“I don’t even know what you’re referring to. My father has never screwed anything up. We run a tight, secure business.”

“Apparently not tight enough, and we aren’t the only family that got screwed in this hit.”

“Who else?”

“Let’s just say main families and leave it at that. They want blood, and if they were to find out who the negotiator is, you’d be dead,” her uncle told her.

“That’s ridiculous since I know nothing.”

“Well, you’d better find out who stole the shit. If not, your father will suffer,” Nuvon told her. Her anger boiled immediately.

“You mean your brother,” she said, reminding him that her father wasn’t just some guy. He was his brother.

“Business is business. I get screwed over, I don’t care if you’re blood or not. You’re dead.”

He gave Creagan a nod and both men walked away, leaving her there feeling speechless and definitely concerned. Who the hell would be stupid enough to rip off made men?

She headed out of the room and to a private hallway away from people. She pulled out her cell phone and called her father. He sounded funny. “Dad, are you okay?”

“Fine. Are you at the event?”

“Yes.”

“The painting?”

“Here. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Be sure to be careful. Have extra security on it. This can’t go missing, too.”

“I heard what happened. We have no leads?”

“Did he threaten you? Touch you, hurt you in any way?”

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