“We’ve found a heavily encrypted computer in Preston’s house that we, of course, hacked. There wasn’t actually much on there, which was weird, given the level of security he had on it, but we did find secret bank accounts that have some pretty impressive amounts in them. Way more than we’d expect from a judge’s salary, and it seemed to build exponentially over the last decade or so. This man definitely had a second income, and given how encrypted the computer was, I’d put money on the fact it wasn’t legal.”
“Rich judge dies of a heart attack. Not that noteworthy. If he didn’t have that tarot card on him, we wouldn’t think anything more about him. Were him and Larson acquaintances?” I asked.
“Again, not on paper, but they were members of the same gentleman’s club, and we have some CCTV footage from inside that puts them there at the same time, chatting like they’d known each other for years.”
The hum of the computers punctuated the air as we all sat in silence for a moment.
“Do you think Preston helped cover up Larson’s hit and run?” I asked, looking between the men. “Why? How?”
“We don’t know why or how, but we do know that we have a bank account—offshore of course—showing that Larson paid a cool half a mill into it the same night as the hit and run. That account belonged to one Judge Preston.”
I couldn’t hide my smile, proud of how talented my team was.
“Anything on the tarot card?” I asked.
Wren shook his head. “Nothing. I mean, it’s a standard card, so there isn’t anything we can search for to know where they came from. Someone obviously wanted to show us the connection between these two men, because this wasn’t a partial print where Larson had held the corner; this was in the middle and a full print, like you’d get if you were fingerprinted by the cops.”
I hummed out my acknowledgement of his words, thoughts and theories whizzing around my head like bumper cars, all clambering for my attention.
“Anyone else involved that you can name?”
Wren turned to Lev, waiting for him to reply. “It’s easier with this connection as we knew who to search for, but without names, we’re looking for a needle in a haystack. There are hundreds of payments into this account; it would take years to work out who they all belong to. Give us some more time, andwe might be able to at least work out a few so we have a clearer idea of what Preston was up to, but if there’s anything else at Preston’s house that might help, a laptop, a ledger with names on, that might give us a starting point to make this a little easier.”
“I’ll get Jarrid to go to the house; see what he can find. I’m going to see what his movements have been over the last week or so. See if anyone came to the house. Also, can we find his medical records? Did he have a heart condition, taking any medication?”
“Good idea.”
“I know. I have them occasionally.”
I left Wren chuckling to himself while I pulled my vibrating phone from my pocket to see an alert that Hana’s bank account had been used. I practically ran back to my computer to find that someone had used her debit card to pay for fuel in a town a couple of hours away. My heart raced so fast, the room began to spin.
The facial recognition software I had running pinged a result too. I clicked on it, letting out a loud exhale as I saw her walking across the forecourt. I zoomed in, taking in her grainy image. Despite the shitty quality of the black and white footage, I’d know her anywhere.
The tightness I’d worn in my chest for the last week lessened, allowing me to take the first full breath since she vanished from my bed. Then the thoughts came flooding in—why did she leave, where had she been, did she run because she knew I was watching like Jarrid suggested, would she even speak to me if she knew what I’d done?
I watched her climb into the car and pull out into traffic, managing to follow her for another thirty minutes until an entire road of cameras were down, and I lost her.
“Fuck,” I muttered, slamming my hand onto the desk.
“Problem?” Jarrid appeared next to me, forcing me to calm the frustration swirling inside me.
I thought about lying, but there was no point in this place. The annoying fuckers would find out sooner or later.
“I found Hana,” I muttered, pointing to my screen.
His eyes widened. “Yeah? She’s back?”
I shook my head. “No. She was miles away. Her image pinged in a petrol station, so she could have been going anywhere. I lost her.”
“Sorry. That sucks.” He stepped back, folding his hands over his chest, looking suddenly guilty. “Sean wants us to go to the judge's house and check it over. Make sure there’s nothing we’re missing.”
I tilted my head because there was a ‘but’ coming.
“But,” he said, and I almost smiled, my shitty mood easing a little. “I promised Amber I’d pick her up from work. Date night. I’ll never get there and back on time, and I don’t want her getting suspicious about what I do.”
“You’ve still not told her?” I asked, knowing how he felt about her and how much he wanted to be honest with her about his life.
He dipped his eyes as if the guilt was eating him alive. “Things are good, man. I don’t want her to hate me.”
