Page 85 of Unlocked

"Just one thing." Kelly met his eyes, and for the first time, there was something in them beyond fear. Something that looked almost like grief. "He said when people found out who was behind everything, the Society would never be the same."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Tatum spread more files across the desk in her temporary quarters at the Society, but stared out at the river. She'd been at it for two hours. The same names, the same shell companies, the same offshore accounts threading through the same labyrinthine structures. Every time she thought she'd found a new angle, it led to another dead end. Whoever had built this had been meticulous. Patient. The kind of patience that came from knowing you were untouchable.

She picked up her coffee, found it cold, and, with a grimace, set it back down.

Her phone buzzed.

Got more files for you. Bank records. Ryker will deliver a thumb drive to you.

Archer. No greeting, no preamble. No hope you’re having a good day, baby. Just information delivered and done. She stared at the text for a moment longer than she needed to, absorbing the sting of his emotionless words. Would a kind word hurt?

Thanks, she typed back, because anything else felt like a confession. As if the fact that she’d been thinking about him non-stop might leak into the text and tell him she cared.

Okay, she was officially losing it. Her first thought should have been about where or how Archer had gotten the new files. Instead, she was wondering why he didn’t ask how she was. Stupid.

She closed her laptop, rolled her shoulders, and texted Ryker.

Archer says you have something for me.

His reply came back almost immediately. Yes. I'm in the medical area checking on someone. Billiard room is halfway. Meet me there in ten?

See you there.

She pulled on her cardigan, tucked her phone into her pocket, and headed out.

The Society was quiet at this hour, the kind of hush that came with thick carpets and carefully controlled lighting. It was mid-afternoon. Too late for the lunch crowd and too early for the drinks after work crowd. She passed the restaurant, closed between service, although food was always available if someone asked for it. Then she went by the reading room where a single elderly gentleman sat asleep in a wing chair, a newspaper splayed open across his chest. The billiard room was down the next corridor, past the smaller of the two lounges.

Ryker was there leaning against the billiard table, typing on his phone when she walked in. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” Tatum said.

Ryker waved her off. “No problem.” He pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Here you go. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled as she glanced at it. “Do you know where Archer got the information on it?”

Ryker paused and cocked an eyebrow. “Tatum, surely as a board member, you know better than to ask such questions.”

Tatum sighed. “I know, I know. But it was worth a shot. It’s just I’ve been working on this for a while and⁠—"

“You’re frustrated that Archer just came up with a bunch of stuff you haven’t seen,” Ryker supplied.

Tatum shrugged. “Well, I don’t know if I’ve seen it yet since I don’t know what’s on this, but essentially”—she met his gaze—“yes.”

“Yeah, it pisses us off too,” Ryker said with a grin. “Every time I think I’m ahead of him, it turns out I’m miles behind. You get used to it.”

His phone beeped, and he glanced at the screen. “Gotta run. Let me or Rush know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” Tatum confirmed and then watched him leave the room.

She stared at the thumb drive for a moment. There was definitely stuff she hadn’t seen on it. She knew it in her bones. Time to go back to work. Maybe this would break things open. Maybe this would lead to the Curator.

Tatum started to retrace her route. She hadn’t been sure she believed the Curator was the one behind the whole Granite Industries thing until she’d heard Vince Kelly earlier. It wasn’t just what he said, although that was scary enough; it was how he said it.

Vince Kelly certainly believed Davis and Anderson were involved in human trafficking. If it were them, then they’d killed two men to keep their secret and tried to kidnap her. Deep down, she knew neither of them was the Curator. They just didn’t have the right level of cold to pull it off. But the Curator being behind the whole Granite Industries thing made perfect sense. What better way to get paid and launder the money than to set up a fake investment scenario? Hell, they could even pay tax if they wanted to, and no one would look twice. Just another company selling a service.

Except Lebowitz had other ideas, and he had put the whole thing in jeopardy. It wasn’t a mystery why they killed him, or North, for that matter. She had no doubt that Vince Kelly’s days were numbered as well unless she figured out who the Curator was.

Tatum yawned suddenly. The lack of sleep was definitely catching up with her. She decided to stop for coffee on the way back to her apartment. The lounge had a self-service coffee bar along the far wall, and she needed something hot if she was going to spend another two hours staring at bank records.