"We need to talk," Lorenzo says in lieu of greeting.
Well there goes the good day I’ve been having. Great. Just great.
Chapter 13
Lorenzo
I’ve been sitting in this chair since six am, and I’ve been working through everything over the past two days. Yet another one of our plans has been fucked. This is the biggest one yet, one that has cost us over three million dollars. A joint venture between myself, Daithí Delaney, and Prior King.
Nothing is making sense as Daithí had secured the location and put up a third of the capital, so why would he betray us and end up losing all the money? Everything I thought I knew has crumpled, and I’ve no damn idea where to look now.
There’s a knock at the door and I glance at the clock and see it’s just after eight in the morning. “Enter,” I call out.
The door opens and both Ciro and Marco enter. They take a seat across from me. Marco opens his folder and goes through everything he’s uncovered.
“Orla Geraghty, died at the age of nineteen, two years ago. Tony Geraghty's only daughter, she died by suicide, it was a private funeral, minimal public acknowledgment, no official investigation. The death certificate is clean. Ronan's reach is all over the cleanliness of it,” he snarls. “There’s very little mention of Quinn Delaney, none in any documents, but just by hearsay, like someone said something to someone who remembered it.”
"That’s not evidence,” I remind him.
He nods in agreement. “I know and everything I’ve found out since doesn’t make much more sense. Those close to Tony have said that Quinn was close to Orla, but there was fallout after Orla's death. Quinn was blamed, privately. All of the Delaney men know, but the blame never went any more public than that. Ronan made sure of that.”
It matches what Daire told me, but there’s something that doesn’t sit right about this entire situation.
"Anything that contradicts it?" I ask.
Marco and Ciro exchange a look.
I brace myself because I know whatever they’re about to say is going to piss me the fuck off.
"Holes," Ciro says. "Too many not to take notice of."
"Tell me," I say through gritted teeth.
"Tony Geraghty himself doesn’t make sense. If Quinn drove his daughter to suicide, why the hell is he still standing beside Ronan every day? How could you be his right hand man? How could you serve the father of the daughter who drove your daughter to suicide?” He looks up at me. “That’s not what a grieving father does, Lorenzo. A grieving father who knows who's responsible doesn't spend two years working alongside that person's family."
I've already thought about this. It's the thing that didn't fit from the moment I started looking into it.
"Unless he was told to accept it," I say.
"Ronan told his closest man to accept that someone in the family killed his daughter and just keep working?" Ciro raises a brow at me, the expression telling me exactly what he thinks of my words.
"Or he doesn't actually believe it was Quinn," Marco says, quietly. "Or he knows it wasn't and couldn't say so."
The room is quiet as I look down at the folder Marco hands me. “What about Orla’s other friends, what are they saying?”
Marco sighs. “Not much, they don’t remember her and Quinn being close. Daire and Orla, yes, but not Quinn.”
"What the hell does that leave us with?" I ask, wondering how there can be so many more questions and no fucking answers.
"It gives us two options. Quinn is a fucking psycho who at the age of sixteen tormented a nineteen-year-old to death or Quinn is the fall guy and had nothing to do with it," Ciro says.
“Someone somewhere knows the truth,” Marco snarls. “We just have to find out where they are.”
If Quinn did what Daire says, why is Tony still standing beside Ronan every day?
I don't have an answer for that, and I don't have enough without one. All I know is that a young woman is dead and the Delaney’s are behind it.
"Keep digging," I say. "I want to know why Tony is still there. I want to know what exactly was buried and who made the decision to bury it. And I want to know where Daire fits in all of this."
