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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CYRUS
“Hey.” He kicks my foot.
I open my eyes, then rub them before standing. “Did you get through?” I yawn.
He nods with a smile. How he’s still awake and functioning, I don’t even know. But maybe this is another thing that gets him off. Number crunching and firewalls or whatever the fuck all this is. “I did, and this shit is wild.”
“What’d you find?” I follow him back to the monitor on the table.
He takes a seat in front of it and begins opening different tabs. “There are contacts, more info on how he rerouted everything. He was even using this to host some impressive CGI technology.”
“CGI? Would that explain making a person see someone who isn’t real?”
He pauses and glances at me over his shoulder. “Elaborate.”
“Carmen. She spoke to a man through video, but the backdrop he had matched one at her dad’s place. Could he have set it up here and run it at his house? Make the guy look and say what he wanted?”
“For sure. All he would need is access to this server and a decent camera. It basically runs off the points of your face and distorts it in different ways to make it look like someone else when it isn’t. Same with voice, but that’s a lot simpler.”
That would explain her thinking Ghost was a totally different man than Alexander.
“What else? What do the contacts consist of?”
“There is info on all the hotels her dad owns. Employee checks, maintenance logs, blueprints—pretty basic shit for a business owner. But the contacts–” He points to the screen as he hits another tab pulling them up. “They seem normal. Names, numbers, addresses, all that shit, but they have a code encrypted within them.” He clicks a few keys on his keyboard, and almost all the numbers or letters compiled to create the contact fall away, revealing a single letter and six numbers.
“Do the codes have some sort of significance?”
He stands from the chair with a nod and walks to the wall with all the black boxes—the external hard drives. “Each one corresponds with one of these.”
He pulls the one off the top of the stack and points to the corner. Etched in the plastic cover is the same code from the computer. “What’s on it?”
“I was only able to scratch the surface. To me it seems like blackmail. Photos, GPS coordinates, bank statements. Along with some other disturbing shit.”
“Disturbing how?”
He looks to the ground and shifts his weight before bringing his eyes back to mine. “Details on a murder made to look like an accident.”
“No fucking way,” I whisper to myself. He really documented every job any of us took. Maybe an insurance policy in case something happened to him. “I need you to search for a Bernard in those contacts. Not sure on his last name, but he was a Bexley resident.”
He peers at me silently for a beat. “Tell me what all of this is.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
He shakes his head lightly. “You know I’m not stupid, right? I can put two and two together.” He turns on his heel and moves back to the computer on the table.
“Then use those wicked math skills and figure it out yourself. Just know, this shit is hard to escape.”
He scoffs. “You don’t say? I’ve already been dragged into more shady shit than I would like, but don’t worry. I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“Good. I’d hate for something to happen to you because of the knowledge you possess.”
It’s a threat disguised as concern—concern he can see right through—but it needed to be said. The lengths I would go to protect myself and Carmen are nonexistent. Whatever needs to be done will be done. I just wish she understood that, but maybe that’s what makes us built for each other. We’re both stubborn and don’t give up easily. So, I’ll throw her a bone this one time and let her try and handle shit her way while I work shit from a different angle in the shadows.
“I’m not scared of you, Cyrus,” he throws out, dragging me back to reality.
I ignore his comment. “Can you see a Bernard or not? I want to see exactly what Ghost knew about this guy—about what he wanted.”
