I left the racetrack in an even filthier mood than I’d arrived in.
Rafaelle waiting in my hotel suite when I entered didn’t improve things. I craved a shower, a rage-abating jerk-off session, and a juicy steak. Necessarily in that order.
But I pushed my wishes to the back of my mind when I read his face.
‘What?’
‘The tech guys came up empty.’
I bit back a curse and the urge to demand what the hell we were paying them for. They were pretty damn good. Most days. When they weren’t strung out on molly and chasing college-grade pussy.
‘So you deleted it?’
‘Yeah,’ Rafa said. ‘But then fifteen minutes ago it popped back up.’
I froze. ‘What?’
He held up the phone. Sure enough, the owl with the yellow eyes was back. I dragged my fingers through my hair. ‘Swear to God, I’m this fucking close to shooting someone in the balls, just for shits and giggles.’
‘You and me both,’ Rafa quipped.
We both stared at the pulsing logo.
‘Gimme that.’ I snatched the phone from him, stared down at the screen for ten seconds. Then sucking in a breath, I stabbed it.
‘Fuck! What did you do that?—’
We froze as the owl blinked, grew in size, spread its wings and launched off an invisible perch. The 3D image filled the screen with black feathers, which subsequently exploded in a shower of green source code.
‘Whoever is behind this has a flair for the dramatic,’ Rafa observed dryly. ‘And not in a fun way. Owls creep me the fuck out.’
I silently agreed. My slightly elevated heartbeat returned to normal when my phone didn’t explode in my hand.
The source code drained away, leaving a smattering of letters behind, which then rearranged into a simple question.
WANT HELP FINDING YOUR MOLE?
Rafaelle tensed, his eyes darting to mine as a message box popped up at the bottom of the screen.
I typed:
Who is this?
The cursor blinked in and out for a full minute. Then the screen went blank. Another handful of seconds, my home screen was restored with no sign of the logo.
‘I think you just pissed off your fairy god-hacker.’
I stared at the screen, caught between fury and hope that Rafaelle was wrong. That I hadn’t just blown the first solid lead I’d been granted.
But… was I really desperate enough to trust some faceless keyboard warrior who’d popped up out of the blue?
I glanced at my brother. ‘You think this is the result of what I threatened at the meeting? That someone has known all along and kept it to themselves?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, man. But on the off chance you haven’t pissed them off, are you going to chase this? What if they’re just fucking with you?’
I exhaled, my mind racing. Just as the logo flared to life. I hit it without hesitation this time. The same question shimmered into being.
WANT HELP FINDING YOUR MOLE?
