It wasn’t fine.
Zeke Godfrey was a young, angry, entitled asshole.
And almost certainly dangerous.?
?Chapter 23
Aaron Treadman kepta surprisingly neat apartment. Protein powder, creatine on the counter. Not much else out in the open.
Vaughn thought about the man’s naked body at the morgue. Muscular—Aaron took care of himself.
“I’ll check the bedroom,” Darnell said. “Clear the kitchen.”
Dale waited in the apartment entrance, looking nervous. Looking like he needed a cigarette.
Vaughn wasn’t sure what they were searching for. The keycard, maybe? A tie-down strap? Anything to link Aaron to the gas.
The man’s phone would be nice.
Whatever had drawn Aaron to that farm in the middle of nowhere, the man had been in no rush to get there. There were no dirty dishes in the sink. No half-eaten sandwich or protein bars.
“What are you guys looking for?” Dale asked.
“Just stay outside,” Darnell hollered.
Dale put his hands up, took another step back. He had a cigarette out now, twirled it in his fingers. Put it in his mouth, removed it.
On the kitchen table, Vaughn found an open laptop. He pulled a latex glove out of his pocket and clicked one of the buttons beneath the trackpad. The laptop wasn’t password protected, and an image appeared on the screen.
“Bedroom’s clean,” Darnell announced. “Find anything in there?”
Vaughn squinted at the image.
“Vaughn?”
“Yeah, I got something.”
Darnell came over, breathing heavily. Leaned in.
“Shit.”
Aaron had left his email open.
They both stared at what looked like a crudely made ad. Vaughn had seen dozens like it in his own email. A scam, most likely.
We are recruiting participants for a new game show to be aired on a major streaming network. The game involves simple puzzles that teammates need to complete both together and individually. Show to be aired sometime in the fourth quarter 2025. Prizes will be awarded in the form of cryptocurrency. Minimum payout: 1 Bitcoin (actual value to be determined by marketprice).
There was a contact number at the bottom.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Darnell said, pulling back. “You believe that, and I’ve got a bridge in San Francisco to sell you.”
Vaughn reread the ad, then took out his phone and dialed the number. The line had been disconnected.
“People actually fall for this shit?”
Vaughn shrugged.
“No job, no money. As cheesy as the ad looks, if you got nothing to lose …”
