I told Cal we were leaving, and then I spent the next couple of hours driving them home. With the amount of gas and time it took just to drive up from the foothills to Westminster and then back downtown, I thought I'd bill McMahon something extra.

"I guess I should thank you," Stephanie said as she got out in front of her building.

"You're welcome." I dangled her condo keys in my hand. "You might need these."

"Where did you get those?"

"It's a long story."

"I do not want to know." She started to close the door.

"Let me give you a little advice. I know what it's like to get out of college and not know what you're going to do. And I made some really bad decisions before I finally stumbled upon the right career. You've got a chance to learn something from this experience, to right the wrongs of your past, and start making some better choices."

"I was just trying to thank you. I did not need the lecture." She slammed the door and strutted up the walk.

I should've known it would fall on deaf ears. I was too tired to even laugh.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

It was after midnight when I stumbled into bed, but I was wide awake the next morning before eight, my mind roiling. I couldn't get what Cal said out of my mind, so I called Willie even though it was early.

"Reed, what time is it?" she mumbled, then suddenly became alert. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said. "I'm sorry I woke you, but I just wrapped up the case."

"That's great, sweetie, but can we talk about it later?"

"I really need to talk to you. Can I come over?"

"Reed, I'm not in the mood."

"Not that," I said. "Just to talk."

She must've sensed something in my tone. "Uh, sure."

She let me in and stared at my face. Then she reached up and gingerly touched my eye.

"Cal hit me," I said.

"Stop kidding around."

"He did." I finally grinned and told her what happened.

"You have the oddest luck," she said as she ambled to the kitchen to fix coffee. "I suspect that's not why you called. What's going on?"

I sat down at her kitchen table and watched her for a few seconds. She was wearing my Denver Broncos t-shirt, lace underwear and nothing else. She reached up to get a bag of coffee out of the cupboard and I looked at her legs, and other things. Her legs looked really nice. Everything about her looked really nice. I was having trouble concentrating.

"Reed?"

"Sorry," I said. I put my hands on the table. "This whole detective business ... I haven't been thinking about it from your standpoint. About how it affects you."

She turned around and leaned against the counter.

"I've been thinking about it, too," she said. "I do worry about you, but I also know you love what you're doing."

"I do."

She nodded. "My father did, too. He wouldn't have been a happy man if he'd been something other than a cop. So I had to live with his career choice ... not that I could change it. And I can't change you, nor do I want to. So I'll deal with it."

"I can't promise you I won't get into dangerous situations, but I can promise you I'll be careful."

"You won't make rash decisions based on c.o.c.kiness, right?"

"Yes," I agreed.

She smiled. "Besides, I kind of enjoyed helping you."

I stood up and walked over to her.

"I see that look in your eye," she said.

I kissed her cheek, then her neck.

"Reed, I don't have time." She giggled, then grabbed my hand and led me to the bedroom.

Willie wasn't lying. She did have errands to run, so I went home and spent some time catching up on bills and preparing a report for McMahon. I was in my office when my phone rang.

I picked it up and answered. "Hey, Cal."

"I've been up all night looking at McMahon's connection with Brubaker, to find how McMahon knew about you and Chancellor Finance, and I've found some interesting things." As usual, he was short on idle pleasantries.

I sat back in my chair. "Yeah?"

"As I said before, McMahon looks clean on the surface, so I started to follow the money trail, looking at how he spends his money. I did a lot of poking around, and one thing I found curious is that he donates a huge amount of money to various politicians, and he's slick so that he never breaks the law, but he's found ways around it."

"Yeah, that's not unusual."

"True, but in this case, McMahon donates to candidates in both parties, mostly Republican, but some Democrats. I thought that was a little strange, so I started checking who he was donating to. There's a senator in Connecticut and one in Ohio, and there's a district court judge in California that McMahon's given money to, to name a few. And he's also spent money in some other areas, like funding a committee that got the okay to build a multi-million dollar high-rise project in New York City. Again, nothing illegal, but as I looked into the men he's been helping, I noticed connections, as in, they all seem to know each other. And then when I researched the backgrounds of all these men, you wouldn't believe where they all went to school."

My mind raced, thinking about what he'd told me about McMahon. It seemed like ages ago. "Brown."

"Yep, or Amherst. Only those two schools. And all of these guys' fathers also went to one of those two schools, and all their children go to one of those two schools."

"So they're loyal to Brown and Amherst," I said.

"And they all help each other. The judge in California he wasn't expected to win, but an influx of money and some endors.e.m.e.nts from powerful people, all who coincidentally know McMahon, got the judge pushed in. And Senator Warren Hatcher, in Connecticut, same thing. That election happened in 2008. He wasn't expected to win but he got all these endors.e.m.e.nts and he got a lot of campaign contributions and he won. I've got lots of scenarios like this. Guys that are all high up in companies, banks, and government, and they're all interconnected."

"Wait a minute," I said. "When we were up at your house, Stephanie and her two cronies went off on a tangent about the vacations they'd taken, and how they hated always having to see each other. And they mentioned some of the same places you just did. Can you look up Bennett and Aiden's fathers?"

"Already did. They went to Amherst as well. And I checked Avery's and Brittany's fathers. Avery's went to Amherst, and Brittany's to Brown, and they're also in the trail of connections."

Some things were coming back to me. "When I was talking to Tyrone at the hospital, and I asked him about Stephanie and McMahon hiding things, he said something about the' apple not falling far from the tree'. And last night Bennett said something about their fathers' 'groups'. That was the word he used, but then he changed it to 'connections'."

"Yeah?"

"You don't think..." I stopped. "Stephanie and her pals got the idea of forming a secret organization from their fathers, who are also in a secret organization. Their fathers manipulate people and the law, and hide their illegal activities, and then so do the kids."

"That's crazy," he said. "You really think McMahon's part of a secret group?"

"Could be. The Bushes and John Kerry belonged to the Skull and Bones secret society at Yale. Is it a stretch that other powerful men formed their own organization, and they wield power, kind of like the conspiracy theories postulate?"

"I guess not."

"Wow," I said. I stared up at Bogie, thinking about all the tangled webs he'd had to unravel. "That's pretty twisted."

"You said it."

"So how does this tie in to Brubaker?" I asked.

"Good question. I looked into Brubaker. It turns out the money he invested in Chancellor was actually from a group of investors, and one of them was Warren Hatcher."

"Senator Hatcher?"

"Yes, Senator Hatcher, who's connected to Forrest McMahon."

"So why didn't Brubaker tell me this?" I asked.

"One of two reasons: either he doesn't know that Senator Hatcher knows McMahon, or two, he knows, but he's fearful of what Senator Hatcher can do to him."

"This Chancellor thing is going to haunt me forever," I said.

"Yeah, unfortunately," he agreed. "And there's more."

"Uh-oh."

"Yeah, uh-oh is right. I said I was following the money, right? Well, I noticed that McMahon and some of his pals have been investing money in corporations they own or are connected with, and McMahon's banker pals have a lot of money changing hands, going into some dummy corporations, but they're hiding it really well. It's such a slick money laundering deal, with all kinds of layers, that I just stumbled upon it. I don't think I ever would've except that I've been looking so closely at all these guys. And get this, the buck seems to stop with Anthony Bruno."

"I've heard that name."

"He's rumored to be part of the Bonnano mob, one of the five families that rule organized crime in New York."

I tapped a finger on the desk emphatically. "And McMahon is connected to him."

"Looks like it. I think McMahon and his pals might have gotten cold feet because it looks like the deposits and money rolling around has decreased in recent months."

"They're trying to get out from under the mob?"

"That's what I think, and the mob doesn't like that."

"And that's why McMahon hired me not because of Stephanie and her little group he didn't know anything about that, but because his enemies are coming after him, specifically the mob. He was telling the truth. And Stephanie had people coming at her from two directions."

"That'd be my guess," he said.

"I'm going to McMahon's tonight to talk to him," I said. "I a.s.sumed that the case was over, but Stephanie is still going to need protection."

"Yep."

"You did great work," I said.

"Thanks, Reed, but I'm finished with this one."

"What?"

"I can't do any more research for you on this one," he said.

"You're afraid of the mob finding you?"

"Absolutely."

"But you're not afraid of what the government would do to you if they catch you?"

"The government will put me in prison," he said. "The mob will put me in the morgue. I'm out."

"Okay. Thanks for everything. You went above and beyond on this one."

"You can say that again," he murmured.

"I'm going to have a talk with McMahon, and this gives me some leverage to make sure he doesn't tell anyone about my involvement in Chancellor Finance."

"You need to be really careful, Reed. The mob guys don't think anything like the rest of us."

"I will," I said.

As the saying goes, famous last words.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.