I turn my face up to read the numbers. We’re around the fiftieth floor, nearly at the top.
“Stick close to me, okay?”
The doors open, leading to the dimly lit office I know so well. I grip Kate’s hand, tugging her along.
“Stay close.” I tell her again, nerves on edge. I release her hand to grip my pistol, pointing it at the floor.
I find my office, leaving the lights off.
“What are we doing here?” she whispers.
“I need to get something.”
I’ve had bugs planted in my office since Kate’s second day, after I thought she had done it to my penthouse. They’re old school, so they can’t be tracked or detected. I locate all four, the tiny cameras easily fitting inside my pocket. I lead her down the long corridor, and we make it to Georginne’s office. I twist the knob, but it’s locked.
“Shit.” I could go downstairs and ask the security guard for the key, but I’m wary of trusting strangers at this point. “Let’s go.”
We make out in the elevator again, and I’m ready to get her home to my penthouse. We were in North Carolina for three days, so tomorrow is Thursday. I could obviously give her a few days off, considering she’s been stabbed, but I need to get back to work to observe my employees closely. She’s not safe without me, so she’ll have to be at her desk.
Once we reach my penthouse, Jackson goes up with us. I grip her hand on the journey up, but we both wish we could be alone.
Jackson and I are both armed and ready to sweep the top floor once the doors open. It takes less than three minutes even though my place is five thousand square feet. This isn’t our first time.
“Clear,” he tells me.
I’ve got my laptop on the kitchen island, and I insert the tiny chip from the first camera. He’s the tech genius, so I slide it over.
“It starts the day after Kate started.”
“That would be the sixteenth,” she tells him.
He fast-forwards through the feed for a few minutes before a dark shape appears at three a.m. that morning.
“There.”
The video goes back to real time. The shadow of a man goes up to my executive chair and slides a knife over the seam of the headrest cushion. He seems to insert something at the base of it before going back over it with a tube of liquid, holding it down.
“So, they’re listening to me. No surprise there?—”
“Wait!” Kate shouts.
The man has turned around and is walking back out. Jackson pauses the video, but the image is dark, and his long blonde hair is covering part of his face.
Too thick around the shoulders to be Garrison with a wig.
“What?” I ask.
“I think . . . I think I know him.”
We all squint at the screen.
“Who is it?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I don’t . . . I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Kate, who is he?” I ask again.Is she trying to protect someone?
Her eyes are wide as she looks up at me. “I...I think that’s my roommate’s boyfriend.”
