“There were crimes committed, Lane. Are you protecting your father even though he’s dead?”

“Hell no.”

“So drop a dime.”

“We’re a privately held corporation. If there was malfeasance, my family are the ones who were damaged. It’s our money that was lost, not that of thousands of shareholders. It’s no one else’s problem or concern.”

“You’re kidding me, right.” His old roommate stared across at him like there was a horn growing out of his forehead. “Laws were broken because improper disclosures were filed with the state attorney general and the IRS. I found discrepancies in your mandatory annual reports. You could be brought up on federal charges for collusion, Lane. Hell, I could, too, now that I know what I do.”

Lane glanced over his shoulder. “Is that why you’re going?”

“Maybe.”

“What if I said I could protect you?”

Jeff rolled his eyes and went over to a duffel on the bed. As he zipped the thing closed, he shook his head. “You entitled motherfuckers think the world revolves around you. That the rules are different just because you come from a family tree with some money.”

“The money’s gone, remember.”

“Look, either you call in law enforcement, or I’m going to have to. I love you like a brother, but I’m not willing to go to jail for you—”

“Down here things are taken care of.”

Jeff straightened and cranked his head around. He opened his mouth. Then shut it. “You sound like a mobster.”

Lane shrugged. “It is what it is. But when I say I can protect you, it includes against things like the government.”

“You’re crazy.”

Lane just stared at his old friend. And the longer he met those eyes behind those glasses, the paler Jeff became.

After a moment, Jeff sat down on the bed and braced his hands on his knees. Staring across the elegant room, he said softly, “Shit.”

“No, not shit. You stay here, find out everything that happened, and I will deal with it privately. That’s the course we’re going to take.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You’re going to stay.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Of course not. You’re one of my oldest friends.”

But they both knew the truth. The man was going nowhere.

“Jesus Christ.” Jeff put a hand to his temple like his head was pounding. “If I’d known what kind of rabbit hole this was, I never would have come down here.”

“I’m going to take care of you. Even without the money, there are too many people who owe my family. I have plenty of resources.”

“Because you’re going to coerce them, too?”

“It is what it is.”

“Fuck you, Lane—”

“Let’s play this out, okay? You finish what you started, maybe it takes you another week, and then you’re free to go. No harm, no foul. It’s like you were never here. I’ll take it from there.”

“And if I leave now?”

“I really can’t let you do that. I’m sorry.”

Jeff shook his head like he wanted to wake up from a bad dream. “The real world doesn’t run like this anymore, Lane. This isn’t the fifties. You Bradford types can’t control things like you used to. You can’t bury accountability in the backyard just because it’s inconvenient or you think a veil of privacy is more important than the law of the land. And as for me? Don’t push me. Don’t put me in this position.”

“You’re not the only one with information, though.” Lane walked over to the desk and picked up the flash drive. “Somehow, I don’t think your professional reputation up in Manhattan would survive the disclosure of the gambling ring you ran in college. Students at five universities ran hundreds of thousands of dollars through you and your system of bookies, and before you go down the water-under-the-bridge argument, I’ll remind you that it was illegal and of such a large scale that you yourself have some RICO stain on you.”

“Fuck you.”

“It is what it is.”

Jeff looked down at the cuffs on his business shirt for a while. Then he shook his head again. “Man, you are just like your father.”

“The hell I am—”

“You’re blackmailing me! What the fuck!”

“This is about survival! You think I want to do this? You think I’m getting off strong-arming one of my best friends to stick in the viper pit with me? My father would have enjoyed this—I hate it! But what else am I supposed to do?”

Jeff got to his feet and hollered right back. “Call the fucking Feds! Be normal instead of some kind of Kentucky Fried Tony Soprano!”

“I can’t do that,” Lane said grimly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. And I’m sorry … but I need you, and I’m in the tragic situation of having to do anything in my power to make you stay.”

Jeff jabbed a finger across the tense air. “You’re an asshole if you go down this road. And that doesn’t change just because you’re playing the poor-me card.”

“If you were in my situation, you’d do the same.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that. Trust me. Shit like this changes everything.”

“You got that right,” Jeff snapped.

Flashbacks of them as college students at U.Va., in the frat house, in class, on vacations that Lane paid for, filtered through his mind. There had been poker games, and practical jokes, women and more women—especially on Lane’s part.

He had never once thought the guy wouldn’t be in his life. But he was out of time, out of options, and at the end of the rope.

“I’m not like my father,” Lane said.

“So delusion also runs in your family. Quite a gene pool you people have got, quite a motherfucking gene pool.”

“Here’s the company directory. There’s the phone. Um … the computer. This is a desk. And … yup, this is a chair.” As Mack ran out of gas, he glanced around the reception area in front of his office at the Old Site. Like maybe someone would jump out from behind the rustic furniture and give him an orientation lifeline.

The Perfect Beth, as he was coming to think of her, just laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out. Do I have a user name and password to get into the system?” At his blank look, she tapped the directory. “Okaaaaay, so I’m going to call the IT department and get that started. Unless HR is already on it?”