AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He was dead, that was fine. But someone had emailed Voss about the death and warned him.
Voss hadn’t responded.
Probably wise to make them think the email was a dead end. Of course, he mitigated any points for that by keeping the email in the first place.
His bank account showed regular infusions of cash from a company name I didn’t recognize. There was a cash transaction ID and an account one.
I made a note of them then glanced up when Voss groaned. Good.
The phone was getting boring.
Another slow groan escaped him. The headache was probably brutal. So sad.
Moving on.
“What the fuck—” Voss muttered, as if even speaking the words caused him pain. He stilled abruptly as his eyes opened and he took in where we were. Then he jerked his head up to look at me. “Who—”
“Good morning, Mr. Voss,” I said. “I would like to say it’s a pleasure to meet you but I doubt this will be pleasurable—for you.”
“Who are you?” He wheezed out the words, and it was almost entertaining to see the terrified reality crawl back into his expression.
I ignored his question. “Unfortunately, you made locating you difficult. While I normally don’t mind a challenge, you are among the few people with the information I need. That means I had to find you. As games of hide and seek go—you’re good.”
He swallowed with a grimace, his pupils dilating as the faint smell of urine filled the air.
“I’m better.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, then began to struggle. I let him fumble as he pulled at his arms and legs, not managing to do much at all beyond rock the chair. Eventually, he gave up.
They all did.
Panic still reflecting in his eyes, he stared at me. “What do you want?”
“Better. Cooperation is always appreciated.”
“Then what do you want?” He coughed after he repeated the question, then licked at his lips. I doubted he had much moisture in his mouth. The trickle of golden liquid on the floor made me glad for the coverings on my shoes.
“Beacon Point.”
Isaiah Voss blanched and a little thrill went through me. He did know something. Everyone had a tell, and hisfearwas riding him right now.
“What—what’s that?” The stutter hardly covered for the confession he’d already made.
I sighed. “This could have gone much easier, Mr. Voss.” I closed the door to the bathroom. “Far easier. But you had to lie.”
“I’m not lying,” he denied abruptly. “I don’t know what Beacon Point is.”
I faced him again, eyebrows raised.
“You’re pale. You’re sweatingagain. Your heart is racing right now, hammering faster than when you were running. You’re having trouble catching your breath.” I ticked off each physiological reaction, and his chest rose and fell faster.
“I—”
“The body,” I told him, “is far more honest than the mind. The mind, it can conceive lies and tales. It has that creativity. The body?”
I stroked my finger over the tools I’d brought with me. Did I want to start big or small?
“You’re insane.”
