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All the more reason to watch over her.
“Zack, did you get a hold of that facial recognition software?” I say into my cell phone.
“Of course, Mr. B. I’ve always got the goods. You know me.”
I repress a sigh and silently remind myself that this hacker is the best money can buy, not only due to his skill set, but because he’s one of the few people I can trust. “Good. Hold on.” I switch my phone to the camera setting and snap a picture. “I want this man’s profile sent to my email immediately.”
“This man” being the surprise that immediately pissed me off today.
“Sure thing, boss,” Zack says, his voice too chipper for six o’clock in the morning. “It won’t take me long.”
“Excellent.”
I end the call, my gaze still resting on Miss Green’s face. As it has been for the last five minutes. Ever since she sat down with a stranger in the Sugar Cube. I shift my stance, letting my agitation flow through me like water. If it wouldn’t alert her, I’d watch her from inside the coffee shop instead of standing outside.
After that day in the cemetery, I made it my business to know everyone she interacts with, and this person is unknown to me. He’s of average height and build, his appearance forgettable, but he’s in her life.
Which is why I commit him to memory.
Although I can’t make out what they’re saying, I can read Miss Green’s expressions as if they were words written on paper in bright red ink.
Her shoulders droop, and the sparkle in her eyes dims while the man talks. Her bottom lip quivers, as it always does when she’s distressed and trying to hold back tears. Whatever he’s saying upsets her.
This adds to my intrigue.
I adjust my coat and maintain my post outside, not too far from the window. The city bustles around me, its soundtrack filled with honking horns and conversations of people. I only concentrate on the one.
My phone chimes with an email alert, and I reluctantly drag my gaze away from Miss Green. After a few keystrokes, the screen displays the man’s face, and I quickly scan the information that Zack sent me.
The stranger is a private investigator by the name of Phillip Calvin. She must’ve hired him before the funeral, or else I would’ve known about him.
What are you searching for, Miss Green?
Is it your father’s killer?
Are you looking for me?
I shove my phone in my coat pocket and return my gaze to the man. Calvin rises to his feet, and the woman’s face takes on a stricken expression, her skin going pale. Her response to him only stokes my need for information.
As soon as the P.I. leaves, I take off after him, the edges of my coat flapping due to my brisk pace. Questions careen inside my mind, each one fighting for dominance while new ones manifest, creating a pounding at my temples. By the time the man enters a less crowded street, I’m vibrating with unspent energy and the need for answers.
“Mr. Calvin,” I call out.
The man spins around, his brows lifting. “Do I know you?”
I shake my head. “No, but I know all about you. What’s your relationship with Miss Green?”
Calvin narrows his eyes. “I’m not going to tell you anything. That’s not how I run my business.”
“You do now,” I say. I step up to him and his gaze turns wary. “Give me all of the information pertaining to the senator’s daughter.Now.”
The man scoffs. But the sound is weak, airy, proof that his confidence is beginning to falter. “Get the hell away from me.” He grips his coat and pulls back the material enough for me to glimpse the firearm resting on his hip. “I’m warning you.”
I quirk a brow. “Are you now?”
My hand shoots out, fueled by my rising anger. I wrap my fingers around his neck, and the wheeze that puffs from his mouth has satisfaction streaming through me. With my free hand, I remove the man’s weapon from his grasp and shove the nozzle into his side, wrenching a grunt from him. He stills, his arms extending in a show of surrender.
“Looks like I’m warningyou, Mr. Calvin.”
