One Baby, Two Secrets. Barbara Dunlop
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for the family seat fell to him. Brody had to at least take the money trouble out of the equation.
“We need to get inside their facility,” Will said. “Proving our case still hinges on accessing their resident servers and finding our proprietary code.”
“We already tried that.”
The attempt had been a dismal failure. The technical security was impenetrable, and the server room was on lockdown twenty-four hours a day. The private detective they’d hired to go undercover as a technician was caught trying to gain unauthorized access and was summarily fired.
“Do you think Quentin might confess something?” Will asked.
“To me?”
“To anybody.”
Brody found his thoughts moving to Kate. If he looked like Kate he might be able to get Quentin to spill his darkest secrets. But he didn’t look like Kate, and so far Quentin didn’t want to talk business with outsiders.
“I need to find an opportunity to search his house,” Brody said. “If we can’t get into their corporate headquarters, Quentin’s house is the next best bet.”
“You get caught snooping around? Well, I have to say, those security guys he’s hired seem very serious.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“They have Russian accents.”
“I know.”
Brody had heard rumors about Quentin’s financial backers, that they had shady backgrounds and even shadier connections to overseas criminal organizations.
“I don’t see we have any choice,” he said.
“There’s always a choice,” Will said.
“You mean I can make the decision to bankrupt my family?”
“It’s better than being shot.”
“Marginally,” Brody said.
Quite frankly, he’d rather take a bullet than be responsible for losing the Calder estate. The earldom had been in his family for twenty-two generations. They’d had ups and downs over the years. The land had been mortgaged before, but the family had always made it back to better times.
Five years ago, their financial position had become particularly precarious, and Brody knew they needed to modernize. His brother Blane, the viscount and eldest son of the earl, wanted to develop tourism infrastructure on the estate, starting with a hotel. But Brody worried about the high investment and slow rate of return that were part of Blane’s plan. He knew they needed something faster, so he’d convinced his father to buy Will’s start-up company and go into high-end gaming technology.
At first, it had worked brilliantly. They’d paid down their debt and were looking forward to moving into the tourism sector. But then Brody got overconfident. He’d borrowed again, borrowed more, and plowed the money into expanding Shetland Tech, creating a new game that he and Will were sure would revolutionize the industry.
Their logic was solid. So was their research. It should have been a success. It would have been a success. But then Beast Blue Designs had stolen their code and stood a frightening chance of beating them to market.
If Beast Blue succeeded, it would be impossible to recoup Shetland Tech’s sunk costs, and the company would most certainly go bankrupt. The Calder estate and the castle on the banks of the River Tay would be lost to the family forever.
“I’m serious,” Will said, setting down the controller. “You can’t mess with those guys.”
“They already messed with me.”
Will uttered an exclamation of disgust. “You’re going to get all macho about it?”
“I’m not getting macho. What I’m getting is smart. If we can’t infiltrate the company, then we’ll come at it from another angle, through Quentin. The man drinks and parties to excess. He’s not as sharp as he should be, and I’ve succeeded in becoming his new pal.”
“That’s because you’re pretending to be exciting and likable.”
“I like to think I’m generally both,” Brody said with a straight face.
Will flashed a grin. “Right. Sure. Let’s call you that. But you can’t expect to meet Quentin Roo’s standards.”
“I’m definitely not the life of some parties,” Brody said. He had absolutely no desire to be the life of Quentin’s parties.
His phone buzzed on the low table in front of him.
Will stayed silent while he picked it up.
“Blane,” he answered warmly. He didn’t have any good news for his brother, but he was still glad to hear from him.
Blane coughed into the phone. “Hi, Brody.”
Brody was immediately concerned. “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re sure?”
Blane coughed again. “It’s nothing. Mother has me steaming in the bathroom.”
Brody relaxed a little, since he knew that at the first sign of a problem their mother would hover over Blane. He glanced at his watch. “It’s late there.”
“Have you signed up to be my nanny?”
“If you’re sick—”
“A tickle in my chest is not sick. I’m humoring her. I don’t need to humor you.”
“Okay.”
“Oliver Masterson came by today.”
The information gave Brody pause. Oliver Masterson was the head architect on the family’s hotel development project. Oliver shouldn’t have much to do at the moment, because it was a long-term plan, with nothing substantive happening for years down the road. Brody thought they were all clear on the timing.
He spoke to his brother in a cautious tone. “We’re only looking for preliminary drawings right now.”
“We were. We are,” said Blane. “He only wanted to see the site. He likes the view of the lake.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
The east meadow was one of Brody’s favorite spots on the entire three-hundred-acre estate. If he’d had his way, they’d have built a house there and turned the castle into a hotel. But his mother wouldn’t hear of moving from the family’s traditional home.
“He wants the building to go higher,” said Blane.
“Higher than three stories?”
“I know that puts us into a whole new category of construction. But we need to think of the long term, our children’s children and beyond. The high-end market provides the best return on investment.”
“You’ve been talking to the town council again.” A large, five-star hotel on the Calder lands would have spin-off effects to any number of local businesses.
Blane coughed again. “You know they’re right.”
“I understand where you’re coming from, Blane.”
“And you agree with me.”
Brody did agree. Like their ancestors before them, they had an obligation to support the surrounding community. He agreed there was growth potential in luxury tourism. The only problem he had was cash flow. They needed significant cash to flow in order to underwrite his brother’s dream. Right now, they didn’t have it.
“Don’t sign anything today,” he said.
“I won’t. Are you close?” Blane knew only the broad strokes of the problem with Beast Blue Designs. He didn’t know how precarious their financial