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“Yes.” Payne pulls her phone back out, brows furrowed as he scrolls through something on his screen. “His sister gave me his number. I sent a WhatsApp message saying I had read his article and I wanted to talk. Arthur—assuming it is Arthur—replied on a different number and said he would only be willing to talk if we did it on his terms.” He shakes his head. “Maybe I was too eager. I think he—or someone else—is fucking around with us.”
At the last moment, I stop myself from punching his arm in frustration. We might be on first name terms, but we’re not that close. With my fists still clenched, I close my eyes and count to ten before opening them. “Maybe it is, but we’re not going to know until we go inside.”
He stares at me instead of responding.
Taking a step back, I sweep my arm to the side. “Then if you want to go, go. I’ll take it from here, because this might be nothing. But it could also besomething.”
“You want me to just leave you?” he asks in disbelief.
“It’s a public place and it’s the middle of the day. I don’t think going in there will end in me being kidnapped, if that’s what you’re worried about?”
Payne lets out a long sigh. “There’s no need for the dramatics.”
That’s rich, coming from him.
“Whatever. The point is, I might only have one shot at this, and this could be it. I have to try. If you don’t feel right about this, I completely understand. You can go and I’ll make my own way—”
“You can stop talking now.” Payne looks at me like I am annoying him. He walks into the building, and I follow him.
XXXVII
Tori
The storage facility is on the ground floor. The room is long and narrow, and feels more like a laundromat but with various-sized lockers instead of washing machines. Near the front is a small terminal that Payne walks over to. He types in the locker number and then the code.
Moments later, halfway down the other side of the room, a door pings open. Over there, the lockers are small, and the one that opens looks like it would just about fit a shoe box in it.
“Well, I don’t think there’s a body in there,” I joke as I walk over.
There isn’t.
There’s just a large brown envelope with something in it that’s big enough to make a bump. I pull the envelope out and then carefully open it. Inside is a cell phone and a piece of paper.
TAKE A SELFIE AND SEND IT TO THE SAVED NUMBER.
“Really?” Payne rolls his eyes but takes the phone from me.
“What are you doing?”
He points at the note in my hands. “I’m the one who messaged him. He’s going to expect my face.” Payne turns the phone on and waits for it to let him to open the camera. He holds the phone out, and then raises his other hand in front of him, flipping off the camera.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I ask.
Payne shrugs. “He didn’t say to smile.”
He sends the message, and then we wait for a response.
When none comes, I arch an eyebrow. “Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.”
“If the guy is jerking us around, he’s never going to reply anyway.”
Maybe he’s right about that, but I’m hoping if that’s the case, that was the decision all along, and he really hadn’t just pissed him off to change his mind.
I double check, making sure there’s nothing else in the envelope, and then I stick it back in the locker and close the door.
As I turn back around, the phone in Payne’s hand beeps.
Together, we read the response.
