Wanted by J. Kenner Page B

this about that bullshit investigation a few years ago? I mean, honestly, Kevin, you were a shit to them earlier tonight.”
    “Bullshit investigation? Do you even know what we were talking about?”
    “Do you?” I countered. He’d only been in the Bureau for four years. That whole fiasco that Jahn had told me about with his knights was a full year before Kevin’s time.
    “Burnett was, and he’s told me enough. I know you grew up around them, but that doesn’t make them good guys. They were fencing stolen merchandise, Angie.”
    I gaped at him. “That’s insane. They’re businessmen, just like my uncle.”
    “They have their fingers in a lot of businesses, I won’t argue that.”
    I narrowed my eyes, irritated by the smirky tone of his voice. “If what you’re saying is true, they’d be behind bars instead of being the toast of Chicago. I mean, come on, Kevin. They’re three of the most prominent—not to mention public—men in this city. They aren’t holed up in some lame-ass pawn shop buying stolen stereos.” I mean, seriously, what the hell kind of game was Kevin playing?
    “You say they’re businessmen?” Kevin said. “I’m not disagreeing. But not all businesses are legit, and you damn well know it.”
    I started to reply, but held my tongue, because as much as I didn’t want to concede any point to Kevin, I had to silently admit that on the surface what he said was true. My father had helped draft dozens of crime prevention bills and oversaw at least as many task forces at the state level over the years. And since he wasn’t a man to leave his work at the office, I couldn’t help but pick up some salient points here and there. And one thing I knew was that legitimate businesses often stood as fronts for criminal enterprises. But Evan’s businesses? Tyler’s and Cole’s?
    I wanted to stamp my foot and tell Kevin he was being absurd. That there was nothing about their businesses that would make the government even look twice. But my foot stayed firmly on the ground. Because now that he’d shined a spotlight, I couldn’t help but notice one or two red flags.
    The biggest one was Destiny, of course, the high-end gentleman’s club they owned together, and which had been a bone of contention between them and my uncle, who thought they were wasting their money and tarnishing their reputations. The guys, apparently, either hadn’t agreed or cared.
    Other than the anomaly of the club, the guys were in the business of businesses. They’d founded Knight Enterprises, which bought and sold companies, and its exceptional performance had rocketed the guys into multimillionaire status. I’d asked Jahn to explain to me what they did, and he’d run me through the basics. Essentially, they acquired all sorts of businesses, everything from car washes to liquor stores to temp agencies to I don’t know what else. Some, like the burrito place, they kept, hiring managers for the day-to-day stuff, and folding the business in under the umbrella of their holding company. Others they sold, making money off the various assets and real estate.
    In other words, they were gambling, making their fortune by betting on the acquisitions doing well. Apparently, they made a lot of really good bets.
    Ten minutes before, all of that seemed perfectly legit. Now Kevin’s suspicions had me hearing words like fencing and smuggling and money laundering. Had I been blind? Or was Kevin being an ass?
    Both possibilities pissed me off, and my words came out sharper than I’d intended. “If there was any evidence then the case wouldn’t have been dropped. Five years, Kevin. You’re all ruffled about some blip on the radar from five years ago.”
    “It wasn’t a blip,” he said. “And I never said that was the only reason I wanted you to stay away from them. Dammit, Angie, I care about you. I don’t want you around men like them.”
    The elevator slid to a stop, the doors opened, and we stepped out. He headed toward the