We walk into the master bedroom, which is just as white and pristine as the rest of the place. How is he maintaining this? Doesn’t he have a dog?
There are no files or computers in the room. After a cursory glance at the side table drawers and the walk-in closet filled with suits and shoes, I drag Sam out of the room before he can sneak into the bathroom.
“You’re the worst snoop in the world,” he says, following me out.
I roll my eyes. “We don’t have the time to care about what drugs he’s on or the brand of shampoo he likes.”
“Wouldn’t have hurt to know anyway. He has good hair,” Sam murmurs.
I turn to look at his face with an eyebrow up.
“What? He does. That’s a very normal observation.”
“Mm-hmm.”
We come across a closed door next to the bedroom. I push my ear against it. Sam follows my lead. “What are we doing?” he whispers.
“Shhhh.” I shush him.
“Rude. You were never this mean to me when I was on the other side of the call on your missions.”
I sigh. “If you keep blabbering, I can’t… oh for fuck’s sake.” I push the door open. If there were a werewolf on the other side of the door, they’d have known about our arrival as soon aswe entered the house. No point in giving them more time to prepare.
I keep a hand on my gun, ready to act as I enter the dark room, Sam right behind me. Scanning the place carefully, I try to make out if something is hiding behind the shadows tha—
Sam switches on the light. I throw him a glare. “Be careful!God.”
He rolls his eyes. A glance around the room confirms we’re not about to die in the next two seconds. We’re just greeted by an empty study with a wall full of shelves containing books with plain covers, a desk with a glass tabletop and—
“Ooooh, computer,” Sam squeaks from behind me and runs towards the desk.
I shake my head, letting him do his thing. This is the entire reason he tagged along. He wanted to copy everything from Adrian’s system, and he was worried their law firm might have put some serious theft-proofing measures in place because of the confidential nature of the documents he deals with.
I scan through the books while Sam does his thing with the computer.
“I’m making this system my bitch,” he announces. Yep that.
They appear to be legal reports and statutes. I pull one out to check and immediately shove it back in when tiny words stare back at me. I read enough books with tiny words for my career. Can't have them infiltrate my side gig too, thank you very much.
I give the other titles a cursory glance without touching them. Then check the drawers in the desk. Ignoring Sam’s grumbles claiming I’m disturbing him, I shuffle through all of them.
I find a couple of case files at the bottom, along with some items I don’t recognize. Other than that, it’s just pens, Post-its, a surprisingly heavy box marked with the name of some university, and some papers with scribbling I can barely decipher. Probably case notes. No mention of Raymond or his two aliases that we are aware of.
When I’m done, I look expectantly at Sam, who seems too immersed in the computer. “How much longer?”
“Huh?” He frowns up at me. “Oh, right, I’m inside. So, like two more minutes. I’m just checking if there are any hidden files. And there it is.” He smiles maniacally. “You can’t hide from me.”
I wander out of the room, glancing around, staying close enough to run inside if needed. We don’t even need to check the house now that Sam has hacked into Adrian’s computer. With how much everyone relies on technology these days, everything we do in the real world leaves a trace in our virtual lives. Big tech knows everything about you and all that.
Can’t hurt to check if he has another one hidden somewhere else, though. I walk to the other open door down the hall. This one is smaller than the master, but the layout and decoration are pretty much the same. Must have been professionally designed.
I prowl around the bed and yank open the drawers under the table. Empty. I check them for false bottoms as I did with all of them. Nothing.
I check the closet, under the bed, and stomp on the floor for hidden floorboards. Nothing.
When I go back to the office, Sam’s smile has grown psychotic. “What are you doing to that poor computer?” I ask.
“I’m removing all our traces here. I also copied all his passwords for easy access later. This man is never going to take a breath without me knowing.”
