After dinner she excused herself for a visit to the bathroom and Kyle took the opportunity to slip outside for a smoke. It was only a couple of minutes later when she reappeared.

"Kara. Have you got a second?"

"Sure."

Kyle stood up and began to walk slowly around the pool and his sister joined him.

"What's up?"

"We haven't really had a chance to talk," He said gently. "How you doing with all this?"

Her eyes narrowed as she looked around at the main house, then back to Kyle. "Haven't decided."

"Yeah, it's a lot to take in."

"No, I haven't decided if I'm going to stay or not."

"Oh." Kyle was about to tell her he was the same, but he paused, realising that he'd already decided. The responsibility of the people relying on him was too great. Despite feeling boxed in and manipulated he knew he would do as he always did. Take his responsibilities seriously and try his best.

He took a deep breath and got back on with the reason he wanted to speak with her. "Kara, you know we've met before, right?"

"I don't think so," She said, shaking her head, her long dark hair bobbing around her face.

"I was on a vacation with my friends a few years ago in Myrtle Beach," He explained softly, letting that hang in the air.

She didn't say anything, but stopped at the railing and looked out over the water.

"I was in with some friends, and I thought you were someone else," He continued, but she raised a hand.

"Kyle, do you have any idea how many people I've danced for over the years? If you're telling me you saw me dance, then that's pretty fucked up, but don't expect me to remember you."

"I just thought I should let you know," He said quietly.

"Maybe you shouldn't have," She said, turning to face him. "Now I know that my newly-discovered brother visits strip clubs like all the other perverts, weirdos and losers I've ever met. Do you think that I'll think better of you because you were honest about it?"

Kara shook her head and looked back out over the water. "Now you're just one of them."

"I wanted to talk to you to see if you remembered me," Kyle said, taken aback. "And I was only there because I promised my friend we'd go in."

She turned her head, catching his eye again. "So it was your first time in a lapdancing bar, was it?"

Kyle frowned, trying to think how to answer the question but she cut him off before he could say anything else.

"I didn't think so. And no, I don't remember you."

"Kara...."

"Was there anything else you wanted to tell me, or can I go back in now?"

Kyle sighed. "Nothing else. Sorry to bother you."

"It's fine," She said, walking off.

Kyle watched her walk around the pool, her movements confident and sure.

"Well, that fucking sucked," He whispered, feeling as if he'd been punched in the stomach.

Kyle was back in his suite half an hour later, having returned to the table for a short time, then excused himself, telling them he had a six o'clock workout to get up for. Patricia had got up to leave with him, but he waved her back into her seat, wanting a little time to himself.

He felt like he'd totally blown things with Kara. Their first conversation was a disaster, and he knew first impressions counted. She'd all but named him a pervert, and her tone left it pretty clear that she thought the customers at the clubs she'd worked were all low-life scumbags.

"Fuck my life," He muttered, not for the firs time in the last twenty four hours.

He turned off the lights in the suite and the balcony and sat in the near darkness, enjoying the solitude. On his third cigarette, he was thinking over the the events of the day when his eyes fell to the shape of the blue binder on the table, barely visible in the dark..

"Private accommodation in Manhattan, LA, Aspen, Hawaii, Toronto, London, Italy and here," He recited aloud from memory. "Computer Manufacturing in the US, Mexico, UK, Germany, India and China. Software Development in the US, Canada, India and the UK. Telephone factories in seven countries across the globe including France, the UK, the US and China. Pharmaceutical Research and Production in the US, Canada, India, China and Holland. Games developers in Scotland and the US. Commercial Properties in New York, Chicago, London, Paris and Berlin."

Kyle paused and rubbed at his temples as he concentrated, seeing a mental picture of the pages of the binder.

"A movie and TV production company with offices in LA, New York and Toronto. A Talent agency with offices in LA, New York and London. A record label in the US and UK, with studios in each country as well as Brazil, Barcelona and Sydney. Magazine publishers with offices in Chicago, New York and LA. Then the oddball stuff. The copper mine in Zambia. The Private Security firm in Zambia and now Afghanistan. The Alternative Energy Research in Scotland. The accountancy firm that specialises in small businesses in Las Vegas."

Kyle paused for a breath. "And last but not least, that fucking strip club in Myrtle Beach."

He stubbed out his cigarette.

"That was pretty impressive, you know," He heard from behind him, recognising Patricia's voice.

Kyle shrugged as he lit another cigarette. "I deal with a lot of information at work, so I'm pretty good at taking stuff in. Plus, we spent hours on this today."

"You missed one," She said gently, taking a seat beside him. To his surprise she leaned over and picked up his cigarettes and lit one for herself, then grinned. "I've had a couple of drinks."

"What did I miss?" Kyle asked, not really caring if she smoked or not. Who was he to say anything, given he was chain-smoking like an addict on death row.

"The Business Consultants you work for?" She said, making it a question.

"Of course. With offices in the US, UK, Canada and Australia," He finished.

"Seriously, that's really impressive, remembering all that."

Kyle exhaled a long, smooth breath. "I spoke to Kara. Told her I was at the club in Myrtle Beach. Now she thinks I'm a low-life pervert and that I shouldn't have brought it up. And she didn't remember me anyway, so it was all for nothing."

"Everything's been a huge shock to her recently, Kyle. To all of you."

"Why don't we have any property for commercial letting in Tokyo?" He asked. "I mean, Tokyo is one of the most expensive places to rent in the world, right?"

Patricia chuckled.

"Plus we have no presence in Japan at all. Tell me again, what did he do to set up this fake persona for Kara?"

"The cover story if anyone looks her up?" Patricia asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay. For four years someone named Kara Kowalski has been writing trashy romance novels and scraping a living from it. The novels are all ghost-written, and the photo on the jacket could be her, deliberately shot to be ambiguous."

"Right. What else?"

"Several blogs that were started for a month or two but fell by the wayside. The usual twitter, facebook, myspace, all that stuff."

Kyle nodded for her to continue as he sat there in the dark.

"Basically, if anyone who went to school with her looks her up, they'll have her down as someone who moved to an undisclosed town in Illinois, took up writing and didn't really socialise much."

"And if they recognsie her as a dancer?"

"Mister Tripps found out she was there a few years ago, and I don't know how he did it, but he bought the club purely so he could make sure any CCTV tapes were in his control. He even paid to have the previous owners house turned over and any tapes or photos that were there were stolen."

"Were there tapes of her?"

"Her and every other dancer who had ever worked there," Patricia said quietly. "We got this from Mister Tripps only a few weeks ago. He had evidence of some of the girls offering extras, snorting lines of coke, doing meth, all sorts of stuff like that. The owner was just as bad, apparently. Nearly half the girls who ever worked there used to do.... favours for him, or he'd fire them. The rest refused but made too much money dancing for him to fire them."

Kyle moved the ashtray onto the table in front of them both. It was a little weird seeing Patricia smoking, but much weirder things had happened in the last thirty six hours.

"The security staff who worked there were checked out too," She added.

"And she left nine months ago, right?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah. Lived off her savings for a bit."

"So what did Tripps do to get all her colleagues to keep quiet?"

"The dancers she worked with who took cash for extras or took drugs were shown tapes of themselves, then offered clean-up programmes and jobs. The previous owner was found by the police with half a kilo of cocaine and is doing a stretch in prison. Five of the security guys who worked there are now working as freelance security contractors in Zambia. One of them is in Afghanistan. The other guy who worked there but didn't want to go abroad got a nice big business grant to start a building business with his brother, and they're about to get a lucrative maintenance contract to keep them going for a few years."

"What about the dancers who weren't into anything dodgy?"

"A few scholarships and expenses packages, helping out with a few medical bills for relatives, a few jobs here and there. One of them demanded a Porsche to keep quiet, so she was shown the stick instead of the carrot."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You go for the carrot, you get a nice reward for positive behaviour. You go for the stick, you get thumped for negative behaviour. The carrot and the stick."

"I know what the carrot and stick shit means," Kyle muttered, rolling his eyes. "I mean what metaphorical stick was she shown?"

"I believe she was woken up one night surrounded by half a ton of flour in clear bags, in her own bedroom. The bags looked like drugs, you know?"

Kyle nodded for her to continue.

"On her bed were photos of her showing she'd been slipped a roofie, had been taken out her own apartment, photographed at a local landmark, then put back into bed, all without her knowing anything about it. Next to the photos on the bed was a list of every address she'd ever had, the addresses of all her family, her passwords for her email accounts, bank account numbers, a frightening amount of personal information."

"So she was threatened and her family were threatened?" Kyle asked, scowling. "Is this what I'm inheriting?"

Patricia sighed, but pressed on. "When she woke up, a disguised man pointed out to her that this could have been the police raiding her and finding all these drugs. It could have been a rapist or serial killer who slipped her a roofie. It could be someone trying to find her in any of the places on those lists, who can find out anything about her at any time. Then the guy pointed out to her that if she wanted a disproportional carrot, she would see a disproportional stick. I believe she settled for twelve grand."

"That's a nasty way of doing business. I don't like it," He said firmly.

"Oh, grow up, Kyle," Patricia said bluntly, startling him. "You're playing with the big boys now, and information is power. Do you think every single one of your competitors isn't going to investigate each of you and leak whatever they want to the press? Or try to use it to discredit you and cause a drop in share price? Do you think if they have something they can blackmail you with, then they'll decide that he's a good guy and we'll just leave him alone? That's not how it works and deep down you know it."

Kyle shook his head in frustration. "So what if I decide I'm above all these power games and I'm not going to play?"

"Then you'll get killed with a thousand paper cuts," Patricia replied. "Fortunately for you we've got people who are really good at this stuff, so it's not something that's going to cross your desk very often."

"What a fucking day," He muttered.

"You get them like that sometimes. Then other days are awesome." She paused to put her cigarette out. "Mister Tripps used to say you need a few shit days so you can appreciate the good ones."

"Bring on the good ones," Kyle replied.

"You should get some sleep, Kyle," Patricia reminded him, standing up and heading into the suite.

Kyle sat in the dark for a few more minutes and then stubbed out his cigarette and headed inside. He turned off the lights in his bedroom, plunging the place into near-total darkness, stripped off and got into bed.

Sleep eluded him though.

He fidgetted, rolled over, couldn't get comfortable and couldn't quite drift off, so he got up again, grabbed a pair of shorts and a hooded jersey from the dressing room and went outside again.

"Psst. Kyle."

It took him a moment to trace the source of the loud whisper, but he saw Katie walking round the balcony from her suite to his. "How you doing?"

"Can't sleep," He told her, taking a seat.

"Me neither. I think that's been forty hours now or something," She replied.

"Jesus, Katie. You should be in your bed."

"It's not happening though. I just can't drift off."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I just got back up myself."

She looked at him for a minute, her head tilted to one side. "Come with me, Kyle." She turned and began to walk around the balcony, her white trackpants and vest top making her easily visible in the dark. "Come on."

Kyle got up and followed her round the balcony and into her suite, seeing it was similar to his own in layout, but different in its decor. Everything in here was much lighter in colour and tone from the furniture to the walls. The lounge area was larger and the bedrooms were to the side instead of the back.

As he followed he began to get a little nervous, his stomach tensing as Katie led him into her bedroom.

"This is my room."

"Yeah. You know it's not a great idea for me to be in here, right?"

"Oh, chill out, Kyle. I just want to try something," She told him firmly. "Remember when we snuggled and fell asleep together?"

He shrugged. "Of course I do."

"Well I'm shattered, Kyle," She continued. "Like I'm exhausted. I haven't slept in two days, I'm jetlagged and I feel ill. I'm desperate to sleep, so at this point I'm willing to try anything."

Kyle frowned at her. This wasn't a good way to start things off as brother and sister. Plus, he could feel that hint of nervous excitement at the thought of holding her again.

"We don't have to get undressed, or get under the covers or anything like that. I just want to see if I can get as comfortable as I can, and hopefully get some rest."

"You're kidding, right?"

To his surprise her eyes immediately began to fill up with tears, and her hands flew up to cover them.

"Katie, I didn't mean to upset you," He said quickly. "I just think that the two us sleeping together is not the smartest thing to do."

"I'm tired, Kyle. I'm tired, and I'm all alone here, and the only person I know is you. I don't know who I can trust, I'm completely out my depth, and all I want is to get some sleep."

Kyle took a couple of steps forward to where she sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a hug. He could feel her holding him, grateful for the comfort, and after a couple of minutes she let him go and wiped her eyes.

"I'll stay for a little while, but as soon as you're asleep, I'm going back to my room," He said, feeling a huge pang of empathy for her, going through all the same crappy emotional rollercoaster he was.

"Kyle, if I can get to sleep, then that's all I need," She replied, giving him a little smile.

He nodded and walked round the side of the bed, lying on his side on top of the sheets, and Katie rolled herself in so he was snuggled in behind her.

The smell of her hair and the feel of her against him brought back memories of Myrtle Beach in her room and Kyle took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Without conscious thought they both made small adjustments to accommodate the other. The positioning of a hand, the turn of an elbow. A foot sliding between his, the angle of his hips and her buttocks, and within moments his arms were wrapped tight around her, her arms holding him in place.

"Kyle," She whispered in the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"I've missed this."

"Me too," He whispered back. "Now close your eyes and go to sleep."

She was gone within a few minutes, and Kyle slowly slid his arm out from under her, taking a great deal of care to not wake her, but eventually he was able to extract himself from the bed. He lifted the sheet over her carefully, then left quietly.

He sat in what was fast becoming his 'usual' chair and lit up, enjoying being back in the darkness when he heard footsteps from his right, and spotted Kara on her balcony. He was in two minds if he should say anything to her or not when she spotted the cigarette flare as he inhaled.

"Kyle?"

"Hey," He said softly. "I can't sleep."

"Neither can I."

"Come and have a seat," He suggested.

She hesitated for a moment but then walked round and sat down.

"Sorry again about earlier, Kara," Kyle said, keeping his voice low. "I wasn't trying to make you feel uncomfortable or anything."

"Yeah, I kinda bit your head off," She admitted. "I'm not great at dealing with guys."

Kyle caught himself about to point out that she was exceptional at dealing with guys when it came to the lapdance he remembered so vividly, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Plus, it's a bit messed up, knowing that your brother has seen you stripping," She added.

"In fairness, I didn't know we were related, and neither did you," He pointed out.

"I know, but still....."

His thoughts turned to Katie and the things they'd unwittingly done together. "It could have been worse, Kara."

"Yeah, I could have given you a private dance."

Kyle was thinking that it would have been worse if they'd had sex, but now he realised she didn't know she'd given him a lapdance that was so hot it had made him cum.

His silence cued her in. "Oh, fuck. I gave you a private dance?"

"Afraid so," He said quietly a moment later. "If it's any consolation to your professional pride, I thought you were excellent."

"Really not the best time to point that out," She murmured.

"Yeah, I know," Kyle agreed. "The whole thing's a bit.... awkward to navigate."

"You think?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

"When were you in?"

"Spring break, three years ago. You want some details of the conversation we had, see if you can remember?" He offered.

"I'm not sure if I want to remember or not."

"Okay. Let me know if you do. If it helps. Whatever you need."

"I'll think about it."

"So you grew up in North Carolina then?" He asked, trying to change the subject onto something that might be more comfortable for her.

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"North Carolina?"

Kyle chuckled. "No, growing up. What was your life like?"

"It was good until I turned ten and my mom died."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "Just one of those things. Drunk driver hit her, killed her instantly. At least it was quick. After that Dad began to drink and things went to shit."

Kyle didn't know what to say. By the sounds of it, she had it rough growing up.

"I left home as soon as I could, and by that point he had lost his job and didn't want to work anyway. I had two part-time jobs when I was at school, and I used to hide the money I made so we had food and the bills got paid. Otherwise he drank it, or sold stuff."

Kyle wondered why Danny Tripps didn't help her out at that point, or at least, help out her father and get him back on the right path again.

"That sounds like a tough way to grow up, Kara," Kyle said quietly.

"Just another of life's learning experiences," She replied, rolling it out like an automatic response.

"So where did you go when you left home?"

"I went to stay with a guy I'd met online in Chicago, but that turned out to be bullshit, so then I travelled for a few months, doing odd jobs, crashing in my car."