Dylan
WE WERE IN some sort of delivery van. There were no seats or windows in the back, and the only light came from the windshield and front side windows. There was clearly no ventilation, either. The van reeked of sour sweat and stale pizza. I held my breath as Brian drove and Nicolai sat with his gun trained on me.
We rolled out of the parking lot, and I looked out the windshield in time to watch us pass by a US Bank sign.
“Where are we going?” Brian asked over his shoulder.
Nicolai tapped my knee with his gun. “We tore apart your old apartment and didn’t find anything. You keepin’ it at your friend’s house?”
I had no freaking idea where the money was, but Nicolai didn’t look like he’d settle for that answer. I’d always been good at solving problems, and I knew I could figure this one out. I just needed more time. Or clues. I needed clues. Taking a stab in the dark, I asked, “Did Kirk happen to say when he gave the money to me?”
Nicolai’s brow furrowed. “He said after you were fired.”
Well, that didn’t make sense and only proved Kirk must have been lying. I definitely hadn’t seen that asshole after he’d canned me. Feeling hopeless, I sighed and tried to speak sense again. “The last time I saw Kirk alive, you were with me.”
The scene replayed in my mind.
Kirk and Nicolai barged into my office. It was the first and only time I’d ever seen Kirk angry. His face was bright red when he handed me an empty cardboard box.
“I can’t believe you went over my head,” he roared. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Pack your personal items, you’re out of here.”
“What?” I asked, stunned.
“Your position with this company has been terminated, effective immediately. I need your keys and your badge, and I need you to put your personal items in this damn box so I can get you out of my company.”
I blinked, stunned that he would take such an unprofessional tone with me. Sure, Kirk had hit on me dozens of times, but he’d never been rude or cruel. “You’re firing me?” I asked.
“You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut and do your job.”
There was something else in his expression, something other than anger.
I thought back, focusing on his eyes, the way his hands trembled, the slight crack in his voice when he said job. Kirk was afraid. I hadn’t realized it back then, because I was too shocked and furious.
“I was trying to do my job. A job made impossible by the inconsistencies on that spreadsheet… which I told you about.”
Kirk glanced at Nicolai and then grabbed a photo from the top of my desk and stuck it in the box. “Pack,” he growled.
Too shook up to argue, I opened my drawers and started doing just that while Kirk cleared off the rest of the top of my desk.
The memory vanished, leaving behind the realization that if Kirk had given me anything after I’d been fired, it had to be in that box. The box I’d put in the trunk of my car before heading to Addison’s after I was fired. Because Addison and I had gotten plastered that night, and I’d been arrested the following morning, my car—and that damn box—had been parked in Addison’s garage ever since. I’d never gone through the box. Kirk could have slipped money into it, but something told me Randal wasn’t looking for a few bills. The money had to be pretty significant if he’d been willing to kill Kirk over it. Still, the box was my only option.
Hoping we’d find something in it, I nodded to Nicolai. “Yes, take me to Addison’s.”
The inside of the van darkened when we pulled into Addison’s parking garage. Anxious to find the money, but dreading what would happen to me after I did, I leaned back and closed my eyes. My mind and body were exhausted as I struggled to piece together the new details I had.
Randal White was responsible for Kirk’s death.
In hindsight, it made perfect sense. The spreadsheet, the skewed numbers, Kirk’s anger at me going over his head. He must have been skimming from the company, and my whistle-blowing had only drawn attention to him. All this time I thought I was innocent, but it turned out I’d played a huge part in Kirk’s murder. I didn’t know how to feel about it.
“Is it in the condo?” Nicolai asked.
“No. My car.”
He frowned, studying me. Most likely he’d slashed my tire, so it was probably frustrating for him to know he’d been so close to what he was looking for.
The van rolled to a stop. The driver’s side door opened and closed, and then Brian opened my door. With both their guns trained on me, I got out of the van and made my way to the trunk of my car.
Brian tugged my keys out of his pocket and unlocked the trunk. The box sat smack dab in the middle, just waiting for us.
Nicolai gestured toward it with his gun. “The money’s in that?” He sounded nearly as skeptical as I felt.
I shrugged. “The last time I saw Kirk he helped me pack up this box. I don’t know if the money is in there, but maybe something that will lead us to it is.”
Nicolai and Brian didn’t look happy, but they must not have had any better ideas, because Brian stepped forward and inspected the box. “It’s clean. Looks like stuff from her work desk.”
It was stuff from my work desk, but hopefully Kirk had slipped in something extra. “If he added anything, I’ll know,” I said.
Nicolai considered my words a few seconds before gesturing me forward. “Okay, but no tricks or I’ll shoot.”
Randal had not only taken all my tricks, but he’d burnt my sleeves. The garage was silent, my only allies were busy at some fundraiser, and I had nothing on me but a pair of spiked heels and the bobby pins in my hair. Since I couldn’t imagine them allowing me the time necessary to take either of those off and use them as a weapon, I went to work emptying the box.
Piece by piece, I removed each item, examined it, and placed it in my trunk. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been working there long enough to accumulate many personal items. In less than ten minutes I was staring at an empty box, wondering what to do next.
“Where is it?” Nicolai asked, jabbing his gun at me.
“I don’t know, okay?” I replied. “This was the only place I could think of. He brought me this box and…”
Then it hit me. I flipped the box over. Nothing was taped to the bottom of it. I felt the insides, looking for some hidden compartment or something. Nothing. But there was a piece of cardboard taped to the side.
“Hand me my keys,” I said, holding my hand out to Brian.
He shook his head, taking a step back.
I rolled my eyes. “There’s no weapon on them. What do you think I’m going to do with them? Key you to death?”
When Brian didn’t answer I turned to Nicolai. “Give them to her,” he barked.
Brian handed me my keys and I used one to cut through the heavy box tape. The flap sprung free, and a torn piece of paper fluttered to the bottom of the box.
“What’s that?” Nicolai said, looking over my shoulder.
I set my keys down in the trunk and picked it up. A web address written in Kirk’s handwriting. Below it was his usual username, followed by a series of letters, numbers, and special characters.
“I think this is what we’re looking for,” I said.
Nicolai leveled his gun at me. “Good. Give it to me.”
I didn’t want to. The little paper in my hand no doubt held the information that could clear my name, and more than likely keep me alive. I’d be exonerated and free to kiss Asher as much as I wanted. But as soon as I handed the information over, I’d be dead. Now that I knew Randal White had orchestrated the whole murder, there was no way he was going to let me walk away from this. I could either stand there and let Nicolai shoot me, or I could go down like a badass.
My heartrate spiked, pumping adrenaline into my veins, and I didn’t think. I just acted.
“What?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at Brian like he’d said something.
Nicolai shifted, watching us.
As I turned back around, I smacked his gun hand toward my car and sprinted for the Cadillac Escalade across the aisle. The gun went off, deafeningly loud in the enclosed garage.
Fire shot through my arm. I crouched behind the SUV and checked the wound. There was a gash halfway down my bicep and blood steamed down, dripping from my elbow. I slipped the paper between my teeth and angled my arm away from my dress, applying pressure with my hand while trying to figure out my next play. My ears rang and I could feel my heart beating through my wound.
A stream of expletives ripped from Brian.
Nicolai joined him, shouting more nonsense. “I didn’t… moved… I… we need…”
I needed to move before they came for me, but I didn’t want to leave the cover of the Escalade. Besides, my stupid high heels would click against the concrete floor and they’d know exactly where I was. I’d started to slip out of them when red and blue lights created an eerie glow around the garage.