Page 28 of Unlocked

Archer's eyebrows rose as his stomach tightened. The coffee turned sour in his mouth. "How?"

"Police are saying he drank too much and fell down the stairs."

Archer processed that, but it didn't sit right. Too convenient. Too clean. "Do we have anything else?"

Ryker shook his head. "Not yet. We won't be able to get in for a while. The cops are all over the place. My contacts think it'll be tonight before things quiet down."

"By then the evidence will have been picked over," Archer said flatly.

"Exactly."

"Did your NYPD source say anything else?"

"Just that they're treating it as accidental. His cell phone was found downstairs on a table. Apparently, he'd been out drinking all night with colleagues."

Archer's fingers drummed once against his desk. A tell. He stilled them. "And those colleagues were Kelly and Lebowitz?"

"Yeah. They both confirmed North was drunk."

Archer absorbed that, his mind already moving through possibilities. None of them good. "What about our cameras, Ryker?"

"I won't be able to access them until tonight."

"What about the feed?"

"I've got Rush on it now. We didn't set it up for a live feed, remember? We thought a sweep might tip someone off, so we didn't go that route. We'll get in tonight, pull our equipment, and see what we captured."

Archer nodded, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. "Fine. But I want to go with you."

Ryker studied him, his gaze sharp. Assessing. "You sure?"

"Yes."

Ryker didn't move. He stood there, arms crossed, watching Archer with the kind of scrutiny that came from years of working together. "Why are you so invested in this?"

"It's part of my job," Archer said.

Ryker shook his head and scoffed. "Don't try that with me. I've worked for you too long. I know your job." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "If you don't tell me, I can't help you, and neither can the team. They're noticing it too. You've been wound tight for months."

Archer leaned back, then stood and began pacing. The energy in his body needed somewhere to go. Ryker was not wrong. Maybe it was time to bring him in. To stop carrying this alone.

He crossed to the window overlooking the East River, and the morning light cast a sharp glare across the water. Then turned back. "When the President asked me not to kill Davis, and I agreed, it was for ninety days. The plan was to take him out on the ninety-first day."

Ryker frowned. "And then?"

"And then I was asked to delay. Indefinitely."

Ryker's confusion deepened. "Did you get a reason?"

"No." Archer's jaw tightened. "I asked. The President doesn't answer to me." The sarcasm was precise and deliberate. "But it appears Davis still has friends."

Ryker's expression shifted, understanding beginning to dawn. "What does that have to do with North?"

"I spoke with Tatum last night," Archer said, and just saying her name did something to him, tightened his chest in a way that had nothing to do with the conversation. He pushed past it. "She believes there's someone else involved in the Granite Industries Ponzi scheme. I agree. There's no way North, Kelly, or Lebowitz were smart enough to design or sustain that operation."

He turned fully, meeting Ryker's eyes. "Whoever built it had a skill set those three don't have."

Ryker nodded slowly. "Fraud. Law. Offshore banking."