Page 43 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

"That's enough," I say, my voice cutting through their argument. "Both of you."

They fall silent, but the tension doesn't ease. Russ looks like he's ready to put his fist through a wall.

I turn back to the guard who's been hovering nearby. "Bring me everyone who was on duty last night."

He nods and hurries off. Within minutes, five men stand in front of me, all of them looking nervous and exhausted. I study each face carefully, looking for signs of guilt or fear beyond what's normal after an attack like this.

"Tell me what happened," I say. "From the beginning."

They take turns explaining. The shift change at midnight. The routine patrol of the perimeter. The moment the lights went out and the masked men came through the loading dock. It all sounds plausible, but something nags at me.

"The cameras," I say. "When did they go down?"

"Right before the attack," one of them says. "Maybe two minutes before."

"And none of you noticed?"

They exchange glances. "We thought it was a glitch. It's happened before."

"Not like this," I say quietly. "Not all at once."

Russ steps forward before I can stop him. He grabs the nearest guard by the front of his shirt and slams him against the wall hard enough to rattle the metal siding.

"Who did you tell?" Russ demands, his face inches from the guard's. "Who the fuck did you tell about the security setup?"

"I didn't tell anyone!" the guard gasps, his eyes wide with terror. "I swear, I didn't⁠—"

"Bullshit!" Russ pulls him forward and slams him back again. "Someone talked, and it was one of you!"

"Russ," I say sharply. "Let him go."

"Not until he tells me the truth."

"I said let him go."

Russ's grip tightens for a moment, and I see the guard's face start to turn red. Then Russ releases him with a shove that sends the man stumbling. The other guards back away, their faces pale.

"This is getting us nowhere," Alex says from behind me. "We need to think strategically, not emotionally."

"Fuck strategy," Russ snaps.

"It wasn't external," Alex says calmly. "I'll give you that. But beating answers out of people won't tell us who's pulling the strings."

"Then what will?"

"Logic." Alex moves to stand beside me, his dark eyes scanning the warehouse. "Think about the timing. This attack happened last night. Saturday night. The same night all three of us were distracted."

The words hang in the air, and I feel something cold settle in my chest.

"We were at Marla's cottage," Alex continues, his voice quiet but clear. "All three of us. At the exact same time someone was hitting Nick's warehouse."

Russ goes still. "You think that's a coincidence?"

"I don't believe in coincidences."

Neither do I. And as the pieces start falling into place, I realize what Alex is suggesting.

Marla appeared at the Ivory Wolf three weeks ago. She slept with Russ first, then Alex, then me. She claimed it was research for a book, but what if that was a lie? What if someone sent her to distract us? To keep us occupied while they made their move?