“Why do you have such a hard on about this deal with Wainright? Your check will be cut from the Wainright Holdings’ philanthropic arm.”

He snorted, which was not a pretty sound. “Which is run by North. She learns the truth about her daddy’s plans, and she’ll shut it all down. That girl’s got her momma’s green agenda even though that woman’s been dead for over twenty years, which is a big fucking problem. Who cares about the spotted owl or the wolf?”

He was a fucking dick. “You don’t know if she’s going to bail on the sale or not,” I said, confirming.

“It’s your job to ensure that woman signs on the line.”

He looked at me with narrowed eyes. I assumed he was trying to look threatening, but it wasn’t working.

“It’s her business silo. The company’s “giving back” was started by her. They’re known for their philanthropy. She’s got to know about this.”

Based on what I’d figured out about her, she knew everything that was going on at work. Not only for Marshall, but for the FBI, I had to find out how much the new CEO was involved in Marshall’s deal. Because she might be in just as deep as her dead daddy.

That meant she’d be doing serious jail time and I’d be the one putting on the handcuffs. I didn’t understand myself, why I still wanted her if she was possibly guilty. Ever since I saw her at the wake, my dick had been in charge, which meant I might be in big trouble. I couldn’t resist her.

I stood. There was no reason to linger. I’d given him my update, which was nothing. He’d blustered and tried to scare me into doing a better job. All it told me was Marshall was guilty as hell and we had his land deal to prove it. He’d go down, but not until we had Macon Wainright posthumously pinned for his crimes. I just wasn’t sure if his daughter would be joining them.

“I’m on it.”

That’s all I said as I put my hat back on and left his office.

4

NORTH

“You have a call with Mark Andres at eleven, lunch at the rotary at twelve, a meeting with the board at two. Accounting wants to be squeezed in sometime so they have a five minute spot before your three o’clock call with the cattlemen’s association.”

My assistant, Julian, recounted my day as he stared at his tablet. It was my second day back at the office since the funeral and I was as booked as ever.