Page 123 of Watched

I suspected as such. He’s currently Chief Constable and applied for the position of Commander two months ago, only to be turned down. The job was awarded to someone else, and he’s negotiated a deal with Smith to help him move up the ranks. I suspect Smith is sabotaging Graham’s higher-ranking officer by deleting logged files, which would leave an evidentiary hole come prosecution of those awaiting trial. Graham’s boss would be portrayed as unfit and removed from their position, leaving it wide open for him. His ego blinds the obvious: he was turned down due to incompetence.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” I lean forward, and he snarls in return. “You’re going to give me the password to that laptop. I will set up a meeting with our dear friend Ezra Smith—”

“We’ve never met in person,” he fires back. “You don’t think that will strike as a little suspicious?”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Blade replies, moving to sit beside Graham and chewing in his ear.

Graham pulls back, disgusted, but Blade grips his neck, holding him in place.

Blade’s usual tactic to gain information is torture, and since those gruesome events can’t unfold in this situation, he’s bored. So, he’s being his usual dickish self and pissing everyone off.

“Password,” I demand.

Graham side eyes Blade, who tips the small bag back, shaking the remaining contents into his mouth.

Growing forever irritated, I tap my gun against Graham’s temple. “I find your company incredibly dull and would rather not spend more time with you than needed. Unless you want him gutting you for entertainment, I suggest you start complying.”

We can’t kill him. Unfortunately, he’s a pawn I need on the board, but he won’t be privy to such information.

“Primrose3,” he begrudgingly concedes.

Taking the laptop, I enter the password and navigate through to find their recent communications. Most of it is Graham asking for updates on his promotion and supplying little information about me and Blade in return.

I type a new message and hit send.

Me: We have a problem.

Unknown: Can you do anything right?

Me: I don’t trust that this is secure.

Unknown: It is. Tell me the problem, or I’ll find someone else.

Me: I overheard Rain is some type of cyber genius or something, which makes me doubt this security.

Unknown: Rain is nothing but a weak version of his father and not as intellectual as many portray him to be. Now what is the problem?

Seems prison has made Ezra a little sour.

Me: The Astons are still under intense security. I haven’t been able to infiltrate their residence.

Unknown: This is novice work I’ve tasked you with, yet you’re incapable of flashing a badge and kidnapping a teenage girl.

I’d gifted Lucy, Indie, and Kilah a bouquet of flowers each. Lucy’s vase contained a small camera, so I’d have eyes inside their home. Ten minutes ago, I watched through the neighbour’s camera as Dad’s men got in their cars and left the house unprotected, so I’ve paid Xander to monitor the property in the meantime. Graham didn’t even attempt to conceal himself; he was driving near the Aston household in his goddamn patrol car.

I type my reply while Blade whistles a haunting tune.

Me: I’ll keep what information I have and use it for myself. The Westons are criminals, and it’s only a matter of time before I prove their illegal activities and gain the promotion on my own.

Unknown: Do that, and your daughter dies.

Good to know.

Me: Don’t fucking touch her.

Unknown: She’s a pretty little thing. If you want her to see her twentieth birthday, then stop fucking around.

I internally sigh and type the next message while Blade continues describing Alexa’s eyes to Graham.