Page 102 of High Reward

Matteo’s expression is skeptical. “Grace knows now. Maybe you want to let her handle this her way?”

“This is her way,” I say, already moving toward the door. “We’re being transparent. She knows about the surveillance. Knows we’re keeping watch for any developments.”

The distinction matters. Grace isn’t being kept in the dark anymore. After our conversation yesterday, I’ve been careful to include her in every update regarding her stalker. The surveillance on her apartment was her idea, she predicted more flowers would arrive. We also told Lili everything, and I have to admit it feels good to have everything out in the open.

Owen falls into step beside me as we exit Havana’s through the back door. The small shopping center that houses both the cigar bar and The High Card sits quiet in the midday heat. Security cameras track our movement across the lot, with additional cameras having been installed since the threats we’ve been facing began.

“Carter says your guy is two minutes out,” Owen says, holding up his phone. “Meeting him at the service entrance in the kitchen.”

I nod, scanning the parking lot for any sign that we are being watched. Part of me expects my father to have his men follow me, but my own camera system at my house shows they haven’t left.

“What do you think she’s playing at?” I ask. “Why the flowers and cryptic letters? Do you think she knows we’ve identified her?”

“Psychological warfare, mate,” Owen replies. “She wants Grace off-balance. Wants her to know she’s being watched.”

The thought sends a fresh wave of anger through me. I’ve seen what this kind of stalking can do to the victim. The constant looking over one’s shoulder. The jumping at shadows. Grace won’t live like that. Not as long as I’m alive.

A black SUV pulls into the service bay behind The High Card, and a member of the security team exits the driver’s side and lifts the bouquet of roses from the passenger seat.

“Watched a delivery guy drop them right outside her door. It was a courier service. Already sent the info to Owen’s tablet.”

The man hands me a small evidence bag. “I used gloves to bag the card, but I doubt Kara or anyone working for her touched it.”

The bouquet is identical to the previous ones. Twelve purple roses, expertly arranged in an expensive vase. Inside the evidence bag is a white envelope, unsealed. I don’t open it yet, eager to get back inside.

“Good work. Stay on the apartment and let me know if anything else unusual happens. At some point, Kara will try to confront Grace again.”

The guard nods and gets back in the SUV, pulling away as Owen and I head back through the kitchen and into the club.

In Owen’s office, I place the bouquet on a table and carefully open the envelope. One card, just like the others. This time with the letter Y.

Owen photographs the card and then displays the images from previous deliveries on his monitor. Five bouquets in all BTRLY.

“Doesn’t spell anything obvious,” he says, arranging the images on the screen. “No vowels unless you count Y.”

I stare at the letters, trying to see a pattern. “Could be an anagram. Or they’re meant to be arranged in a specific order. Or there are more bouquets coming. But if she knows we’re here and is escalating to bomb threats… something isn’t right.”

Owen is already typing, his fingers flying across the keyboard. “I’m running the courier service along with a few other searches to see what I can find. Most of these services use third-party apps that hire gig workers. It could be she wanted a specific person to deliver them, but that’s a long shot.

I study the flowers while he works. The same florist as before, judging by the arrangement style and ribbon. High-end, but not unique enough to easily trace.

I pull out my phone. “I need to tell Grace.”

Owen gestures to the flowers. “Tell her to come here. She should see all of this together. Could be she’ll recognize something in the message we’re missing.”

He’s right. Grace has insight into Kara that we don’t.

“Got her. Can’t hide from me forever crazy Kara,” Owen mutters.

I peer over his shoulder and try to read what’s on his screen, but it’s all gibberish to me. “What did you find?”

“We found a property with Kara’s name on the rental agreement the other day, but that doesn’t prove anything. But I just linked an online order from a florist shop that used this courier service to her address. It’s finally something tangible.”

I nod and head for the door. “Not enough for police action yet, but it’s something.”

“Keep digging,” I tell Owen. I want everything we can find on this woman. Especially any links to Griffin Price.

I slip the phone back in my pocket and open the door. “I’m going to find her myself.”