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He scrolls through the contacts fast until he hits the bottom. “Bernard of Bexley Falls. Second to last.”
I zero in on his name, then look at the one under it.
Cyrus McLane.
If my name is here, that means this is more than client contacts.
“Is that you? Why would you be here?”
“Because these are more than contacts. They’re hits.”
“Hits? Like someone is going to kill you?” He sounds less shocked than I would have imagined.
“Was,” I emphasize. Ghost is gone now, so I shouldn’t have to worry. “But that’s exactly it. See if you can find Carmen’s name.” I point to the screen.
He scrolls back through the list, this time slower. I try to watch, but even with him slowing his pace, it still makes my eyes hurt.
“She’s here too.”
I look to the stack of external hard drives. “What’s the code connected to her name?”
After a few clicks on his keyboard, he calls it out. “D091562.”
I scan the boxes and pull the one with the corresponding code he gave me. “Fuck the other ones. Look into this one and see what’s on it.” I hand it to him.
He grabs it and looks at me with concern. “Is Carmen in trouble?”
I want to tell him no, but I don’t even know if that’s true. I’d like to think she can handle this shit herself, but we need a backup plan just in case. If Ghost had a hit on her, it would be the perfect evidence. She could claim self-defense.
“I can’t answer that yet,” I reply. “But I’m going to try my best to make sure she isn’t.”
He nods. “I’ll work on this and let you know what I find.”
“Okay. Have you come across some sort of list that includes numbers and emails? Everything going to those contacts would contain a color, location, and number.”
“Oh yeah.” He moves to his laptop, hits a few keys, then pulls up a new tab. “It was with all the hotel information. Didn’t know what to think of it, so I was going to try and unpack it later, but here it is.” He turns the laptop and pushes it toward me.
“Can you send something for me to this list?” I point to the screen.
“Just tell me what.”
“Black to red. Zero. Bexley Falls.”
He cocks his head to the side but doesn’t question me. Pulling the laptop back to him, he types it out and hits send. “Done.”
“Thanks.”
He dips his head. “I would say anytime, but I’m really hoping this will be the last thing you need from me.”
I start to reply, but the phone in my pocket starts to vibrate before I can. As I pull it out, Bradley turns back to the computer and gets to work.
Answering it, I bring it to my ear. “Hatcher. Is everything okay?”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbles almost to himself. “Yeah, I just landed, but I got an email and wanted to check in. I thought you were dead.” I can hear the worry in his voice.
“That was me. I had it sent.”
The line goes silent for a moment. “How?”
