Damon:Why?
Unknown Number:Five figures if the information is good. Six if it’s comprehensive.
Damon:I want fifty thousand up front.
I scroll down. My vision goes red.
Damon gave them everything. Remy’s apartment. Her gym. Her favorite coffee shop.
Then two weeks ago:
Damon:They’re taking her to Paris. My name is on their hotel reservation. They forgot to take me off.
That is how they got access in Paris. That is the last message.
There aren’t any messages from today, so Trent and his guys must have just followed her from our penthouse. Someone must have been watching it.
“Ansel.” My voice doesn’t sound like mine. “Look at this.”
He reads the messages from Damon over my shoulder. His breathing changes. “That asshole sold her out.”
I run facial recognition on the coffee shop footage. One of the men has prior arrest records for assault and kidnapping. The other—Russell Cooper—is a former military man. Dishonorable discharge. Current employer: Stanley Trent.
Adrenaline is coursing through my veins. “Damon gave them everything they needed.”
Ansel’s phone rings, and he answers on speaker.
“We tracked the van,” Adam reports. “Warehouse district on the south side. But they switched vehicles. And we can’t get the location for that vehicle.”
My vision tunnels.
“Where did they go?” Ansel’s voice is deadly calm.
I grab the phone. “Just find her.”
“Understood,” Adam responds. “And we’ve located Damon.”
“Where is he?” Ansel demands.
“His apartment.”
The apartment is on the way to the warehouse district, so we will follow that lead until our security team can get more information on where the assailants are taking Remy.
When we arrive at Damon’s place, security lets us up without question. He never bothered removing us from his guest list.
I use the key he gave me years ago and open his door. Damon is on his couch, watching television. He goes white when he sees us.
Ansel crosses the room in three strides, grabs Damon by the shirt, pulls him up off the couch, and slams him against the wall. “Where is she?”
“What are you talking about?” Damon’s response comes out strained, Ansel’s grip making it hard for him to breathe.
I grab my tablet and shove the decrypted messages in his face. “You’ve been working with Trent. You gave him Remy.”
“You guys fucked me over!” Damon’s voice cracks. “For her!”
“No!” Ansel yells. “This is on you. She was completely professional while you were still in the office. You lied to us!”
Damon doesn’t respond right away, and his shoulders slump. “Trent said he just wanted to scare her, to get leverage over you guys.”
