8
KAI
In his hotel room.
A few moments earlier.
On the phone with Grayson.
“I’msorry for keeping you up so late,” I say, running a towel over my damp hair.
Wearing only sweatpants, I drop the towel on the bed, turn around, and walk to the closet.
I put him on speaker phone while I search for a T-shirt.
“It’s no problem. I only sleep a few hours a night anyway,” the man says, amused. “And I like to nap in the afternoon. Working at night agrees with me. It’s quiet, and there are no interruptions.”
“I hear you.”
“So, you say…” he starts. “No one has messed with her phone.”
“Yes.”
“You had it in your hand and had a professional check it?”
“Yes. And yes.”
I picked up Raven’s phone that morning when I ripped off her dress. Ruining her dress wasn’t part of the plan.
Nothing that morning was except for collecting her phone without her knowledge and having it checked by someone I trusted.
“The result was negative….” I murmur, mentally reviewing the entire information. “So, they hacked the security system at my house, broke into her place and Francisco Barreto’s place. Allegedly. You say they didn’t catch that man.”
“Sadly, they didn’t. They couldn’t figure out how or when he left the building. They’re not sure he’s entered your friend’s apartment. Chances are he has, but there is no footage to support that theory, and nothing is missing from his apartment. According to them, at least. And there are no signs of breaking and entering.”
“Maybe he tried to but couldn’t get in. Didn’t have the chance, I mean.”
“Yeah… That’s possible. So that’s that. If you ask me, it was the same man. He’s very good at what he does, despite leaving clues behind. He’s a bit sloppy but not enough to get caught. It’s like he doesn’t care much.”
“He’s been instructed to do that. The message is they are after something and not hiding. They’re not afraid. And we should stay out of their way or else… That’s what they want us to think. This is so typical of my father. I’ll talk to Francisco when we get back. I want him to confirm that nothing is missing from his place.”
A few moments pass, and I’m about to wrap it up when something rustles at the other end of the line.
“There’s something else…” he says, and I imagine him leafing through a stack of papers. “You asked me about that associate of your father.”
“Soon to be associate… Yes. Theodore Sloane.”
“Theodore…” he murmurs. “Yes, our boy Theodore is a bit of a crook. Let’s see. Fraud and embezzlement, domestic abuse, sexual assault.”
My hair bristles, and my muscles snap.
I straighten.
“When was that?”
“He had some money problems a while ago. He used to live in California. It was… Eight years ago. Yeah… And that prompted his wife to file for divorce. He wasn’t very happy about it and acted on his anger. He got good lawyers yet served time. And had to put the money back.”
“Why the hell is he doing business with him?”