Two best friends, work colleagues, two of the smartest men on the planet, torn apart by the allure of money.
“I need you to come to me. I’m at Steve’s place. He—” There was a shout, the specific words indecipherable. When Gene spoke again, he did so in a mere whisper. “If anything happens to me, you need to save the work.”
“Dad? You’re scaring me.”
“Save the work, Ivy. Find Steve’s laptop.Please. It’s more important than either of us.”
That was the last time she’d heard his voice. So much had changed that night.
Everythinghad changed.
Ivy got out of the car, walked toward the front door. She’d only been here twice before. That night and once about three months earlier.
They’d been on their way home from dinner out—one of the rare occasions that Gene had taken time off work to hang out with her—when he’d said he needed to stop at his partner’s to drop something off.
Ivy had been in awe of Steve’s house, so much larger and fancier than theirs. She’d made a comment to this effect, and Gene had replied by saying that his partner was less risk averse. Steve had been an early crypto adopter, had made a shit ton of money.
The place was dark now, the night disguising the soot smears that marred the brick walls.
Ivy was on high alert. She looked upward. The windows had been boarded up with particle board. The house was silent—deathly silent.
Ivy reached for the door, not expecting to find it unlocked. Surprised that it was. She opened it a crack.
“Anyone here?”
No answer.
Ivy opened the door wider and put one foot inside. She remembered the house. Remembered the layout, even though the fire in the kitchen had been blazing at the time.
This was... different.
Ivy was so confused by the gray drywall in front of her, the three doors, pristine white, side by side, each with a large number written on them in Sharpie—one, two, three—that she didn’t even realize she’d stepped all the way in. And when the door clicked closed behind her, following by a soft, mechanical whir of the digital lock engaging, Ivy knew that she’d made a mistake.
A fatal mistake.
“Hello, Ivy,” a voice came from a speaker embedded behind her. “I’m surprised that it took you so long to come here.”?
?Chapter 71
“Alright, I’ll lookinto it, get back to you.”
“Thanks, Bowes.”
As soon as he’d hung up, Vaughn called Ivy. No answer. Tried Darnell next. Again, no answer.
Vaughn was starting to worry. Eugene missing was one thing. Ivy and Darnell not answering either? Not a good sign. He wracked his brain, tried to remember the name of Ivy’s friend.
Abby, right? Abby... Granger. That was it.
He had no trouble finding the woman online. Abby liked to post selfies. Found one of her in a dark smock. On her right breast, a pumped-up breast, was a company name and logo. A cosmetic company. Found them online, too.
“Hi, my name is Detective Vaughn Ryan with the PPD. Is Abby Granger around?”
“I don’t think so—let me check.”
Vaughn listened to elevator music as he waited. The line clicked back.
“Abby had to leave to pick up a friend, I think? Do you want to leave a message?”
