“Well, that too.” I laugh.
I’m aware that what we’re about to do will likely reopen the wounds that Mila is trying so hard to heal. Part of me feels guilty for even suggesting looking into the mole in hopes of finding Max’s killer, but if we’re successful, this could give my friend the closure she so desperately needs.
So, ignoring the guilt, I lead Mila upstairs to my old bedroom, and we settle on the bed with my laptop open between us.
I load up Ronan’s payment system. “I did a little digging the other night. I’ve got a few names, but so far I haven’t found any leads.”
“You might just need a fresh set of eyes.” Mila reaches for the laptop.
For the next hour, we go through the contacts and links I’ve pieced together, but the dead ends I found become solid brick walls, even with Mila’s fresh perspective.
Mila groans as she throws herself back on the bed and stares up at the ceiling. “Who are we kidding, Ciara? We’re not detectives. What are we even doing?”
I rub my eyes. “I don’t know. But we need to do something. This isn’t just about Ronan anymore; it’s about Max too.”
At the mention of her brother’s name, something shifts in Mila’s expression. She sits up slowly, her dark brow furrowed as she looks at me.
“What?”
“Max was always ridiculously paranoid.”
“Yeah, and…?”
“He had this whole system in place because of it.”
I frown. “What kind of system?”
“I’m talking alarms, backup phones, and hidden cameras that Ronan’s guys might have missed when they swept the place.”
Holy crap.
My pulse quickens. “Do you think they caught something the night he died?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
When Mila burststhrough the front door almost exactly an hour later, her face is flushed, and her navy hoodie is covered in dust like she clawed through some drywall. She’s panting and wild-eyed as she clutches a laptop to her chest.
“I found it.” She shoves the laptop into my arms.
“Let’s go.” I hurry back up the stairs before Stephen decides to make an appearance. “Where was it?” I settle back on my bed and open the laptop.
It’s an older model compared to the one Ronan bought for me, and heavily scratched. It’s a far cry from the high-tech setup that Max had in his apartment, which only makes me more curious to know what’s on it.
“Hidden behind a false panel in his wardrobe. It took me forever to pry it open without tearing the whole thing apart. I knew he kept his important stuff somewhere private because he didn’t trust anyone.”
“I guess it comes with the territory of being a reclusive hacker.”
I fire up the laptop.
Immediately, Max’s cluttered desktop appears.
“This is weird…” I start scanning the folders.
“What is?”
“There was no password.”
Mila frowns. “Really?”
