The pieces were falling into place. “You think Leonard Medford was paying off Lisa Crawford to keep a secret? What secret is worth that kind of cash?”
“A secret that would cost him half a billion dollars in assets if his wife was to find out about it.”
“A kid.”
Webster nodded. “Yeah, man. An affair is one thing, but a child? That would invalidate their prenup and she could take him for half of everything he’s got, and he’s worth a little over a billion dollars as of last year.”
Shep frowned. “How does that tie into David Cane?”
“Sixteen years ago, Lisa Crawford’s son, Cane Crawford, was arrested and charged with assaulting a pre-teen boy. He didn’t go to jail, but he ended up with probation and his name on a list of sex offenders. Six months later, Cane Crawford disappears off the map and David Cane appears in Hollywood opens an acting school and quickly becomes well known for getting his kids connected with some of the biggest names in LA.”
Shep shook his head. That couldn’t be right. “And nobody questioned his credentials? His background?”
“This is Hollywood. These stage moms want results. One or two kids get picked up for a summer blockbuster or an Emmy nominated series and they stop caring where he came from and worry about only what he can do for their little star. There’s been rumors of a huge pedophile circuit in Hollywood for years, man. David Cane is just a cog in a much bigger machine. Some of these parents are very aware of the price their child may pay to become a celebrity.”
“And Medford just keeps turning a blind eye. Bailing him out when he needs it?”
Webster shrugged. “It sure seems that way. It’s not like Medford’s a saint. He’s the king of the casting couch. Lots of girls got into his movies with a little quid pro quo. It’s why he pays his fancy law firm a six-figure retainer.”
“But we still don’t know where that money is coming from?”
“Whatever he’s doing, it’s not leaving a paper trail. Swiss or Cayman bank accounts? Bitcoin? I’m still coming up blank. I’ve hacked both his private and personal email accounts, his cell phone records, his finance manager’s emails. I’ll find something somewhere, but it could take months to siphon through all the garbage this narcissist fuck and his flunkies message about before I find something that could put him away.” Shep growled but said nothing else. There wasn’t much to say. Webster clearly saw the lack of progress irritated Shep because he tacked on, “I am working on getting a list of David Cane’s clients, both past and present.”
Shep frowned as the door to the hotel suite beeped and then pushed open. He glanced down at his watch as Webster scrambled to hide the papers strewn across the dining room table.
Elijah stood frozen in the archway between the rooms, brows knitted together as he stared down Webster. “Who are you?”
Webster stuck his hand out with a bit too much force. “Nicholas Webster. I’m a big fan.”
Elijah ignored the compliment and the hand, walking to the table and picking up papers, his eyes locking onto the names on the ledgers. He threw them down as if they were tainted, spinning on his heel to glare at Shep. “What the fuck is this?”
Shep had no interest in lying to Elijah. “Financials for Leonard Medford and background information on David Cane.”
The color drained from Elijah’s face and for a moment Shep thought he might pass out.
“Why?” Elijah wheezed, his hand flying to his throat in one of those overly feminine gestures he often tried to hide in front of strangers.
This was what Shep had wanted to avoid. Elijah didn’t need the added stress of an investigation. But it was too late now. “We want to find proof of what he did to you. What he might still be doing to others.”
Elijah was shaking his head before Shep even finished speaking. “No. No. I told you he’s not. I told you that Lucifer made them put in writing that he’d never work with children again or it would invalidate the contract. I told you that,” he muttered again. “Why are you doing this? Why are you dredging all this stuff up again? I didn’t tell you these things so that you could dig around and stir things up. What if he realizes what you’re doing? What if he tries to come after me? What if this invalidates that contract, and he sues me?”
Elijah’s voice was going higher with each new sentence, his hands shaking and eyes growing wet as he seemed to spiral further down the rabbit hole of possibilities.
Shep took him by the upper arms, shaking him just enough to pull him back from the edge and get him to make eye contact. “Nobody knows what we’re doing. Webster is very good at his job and I so am I, remember? That’s why you call me Sam, isn’t it? Because I would let no one hurt you. Remember?”
Elijah shook himself free of Shep’s grasp. “I didn’t say you could do this. I didn’t give you permission. I didn’t want this. I don’t want this. I was just starting to feel normal again. Why would you do this?”
Elijah turned and fled, slamming the door behind him. Shep slammed his fists on the dining room table hard enough to earn a pissy look from Webster as his laptop lurched closer to the edge. A moment later, Calder appeared. Shep gave him a sour look. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to let us know you were on the way back.”
“Well, excuse the fuck out of me, but I got waylaid by that she-devil of a mother of his. She read me the riot act over the phone about some nonsense with Elijah’s press tour next month and then cornered me in the lobby when I didn’t give her the answers she wanted. Elijah hightailed it to the elevators the minute he saw her high-heeled hooves clomping towards us in the lobby before she could get her fangs in him too. I didn’t know you two were still up here colluding.”
Shep sighed. “Fuck.” He looked to the closed bedroom door. “Webster, I’ll be in touch. Calder, just, I don’t know. Do whatever it is you do to amuse yourself. I’m going in.”
“Good luck, man,” Calder drawled, he and Webster sharing a pitying look.
Elijah was lying on the bed, still dressed, facing away from Shep. He didn’t speak, just gently took Elijah’s shoes and socks off, rolling him so he could unzip his jacket and peel off his shirt and jeans. Elijah didn’t fight him, but he didn’t make eye contact either. He let Shep strip him down to his underwear and get him under the covers. Shep was grateful when the boy didn’t protest as he climbed in beside him.
Shep tipped Elijah’s face upwards, hating that he’d caused those tears streaking down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
