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They had been renovating a building for fucking ever. The building got bought out at least eight months before and ever since then, all I had seen was working crews in and out. Granted, the building was old as hell and likely needed a fair amount of structural work along with the aesthetics. So far, I didn't even know the damn place was a 'fixer firm', just bought out and under construction.
"Sure," I said, shoulder shrugging casually.
"That Quin guy is no slouch about security. They put up cameras around every inch of that building. But since they're not open yet, they haven't doubled down on the security on the cameras so they are basically barely even secure at all. I caught this," she said, swiveling her laptop quickly. Alex's hand flew out to save the energy drink from spilling everywhere as she did so. "See this BMW coming into the lot?" she asked, finger stabbing the screen, making the image of a late-model silver sedan warp slightly for a second. "I can't get the plates, but there's three guys in it. Three guys in a BMW coming to this building? For what? To visit the snake milker?"
"You're saying..."
"About an hour after they came in, they pulled back out and took off. And about ten minutes after that," she went on, speeding up the security footage, "here comes who can only be Bethany, wearing your hoodie it looks like."
It was mine- an old gray one of mine, the hood pulled up and blocking her face completely, her head ducked down as she walked.
I felt my stomach twist again, knowing to my bones that whoever those guys were- they were the reason she left. Things were good. We were working out well together. We... fit. She said she would be there for me when I got back.
There was no reason to go.
Unless someone made her.
No fucking wonder she hadn't called into work to say she was sick or some shit like she said she would.
Because she worked for the fuckheads in the BMW.
Every ounce of me was screaming that whoever they were, were bad fucking news.
And she was wrapped up with them.
Great.
"Any chance you can catch her on other cameras? Get a general direction we can start knocking on doors around?"
"Unfortunately, you live in the shitty part of town and no one is investing in goddamn security cameras here." My heart started to sink. "That being said, you know who also likes security cameras? Sawyer Anderson. And she walked right past his place and then down the next side street. Which..." her voice trailed off as her hand waved toward Alex.
Alex's hand swiped across her screen before she turned it, more carefully than Janie had, and showed me an aerial view of the street in question. "Which has two small apartment buildings on it along with about... six duplexes. We can cover two small apartment buildings and six duplexes."
Thank fuck.
"Let's move," Lo declared, used to being in charge, in calling shots. And in lieu of Reign being around to do so, Reeve and I fell into step along with Janie and Alex who each slammed their laptops in unison and tucked them under their arms.
Reeve got in his car. I climbed on my bike. And the girls piled into one of Hailstorm's giant SUVs.
As I drove past, I noticed perhaps for the first time that the building across the street really had made a lot of progress. It was easy, amongst the daily drudgery of seeing nothing but tarp and construction crews, to not be able to see past them. But where there had been crumbling mortar and dilapidated stairs and shattered windows, the front had been skimmed and finished in a deep slate gray. The stairs were rebuilt and black. The windows were new and, from the looks of it, thick.
A fixer firm.
A man named Quin.
I couldn't help but wonder what that would mean for the future for a split second before the worry came rushing back, oppressive and heavy, blocking out everything else.
True, it might have been good if she was home.
But home was a place she had been using for months.
Home likely had a giant stash of pills for her to reach for if whatever those men said when they showed up at my mother fucking apartment building upset her.
Which, well, of-fucking-course whatever they said must have upset her. Enough to make her leave my apartment, leave me.
I hadn't realized before how careful she was when she spoke of her past- always focusing on things that had roots- her mother, father, sister. Never speaking of the more recent developments.
Was she keeping me out of the loop because she was embarrassed, ashamed? Was it perhaps something worse, something more dangerous.
Navesink Bank was a big fucking town. And while it was certainly full of its own unique criminal underbelly, there were thousands of other people who called it home. Whoever the men were could have been anyone- normal or criminal alike.
