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I checked the time. If it was one here, it was six in London. Which meant Lance would be up.
He'd returned to London right after the wedding ceremony. He’d given me a tight squeeze before going, and he’d looked genuinely happy for me. Or at least convinced that I was doing the right thing. I wondered what the hell had changed.
When I turned up on his doorstep a couple months ago, he'd wanted to kill Atticus. But now he was happy for me?
Maybe he realizes that you love Atticus, and this is the safest you’re going to be.
I opened our private chat window.
Are you up?
Thirty seconds later, he responded. Yes, the question is, why are you?
Do you really want the answer to that question?
Why do I get the impression I'm not going to like this?
Look, it's very low risk. I just want to poke around something, and I don't want anyone to know.
You got a firewall problem?
Yes. I could call one of my developers, but you are the best. So help me.
There was a pause while the dots jumped around. What are you breaking into?
It isn't my story to tell, but I don’t have the power I need. Plus, when it comes to hacking, I’m not as careful as you. Also, we can't do this on company servers.
What do you take me for, an amateur? What am I looking for?
I'm looking into a murder that took place in Montauk five years ago.
What data do you want?
Not the basic internet search. I've already done that, but I can't find anything. I'm hoping you can get the coroner's records.
Consider it done. If you can’t get into the details, can you at least tell me why?
Let's just say somebody innocent is being blamed for murder.
Another pause. Gwen, I already don't like this. Didn’t we just take you out of harm’s way?
Don't worry about it. Can you do it?
Can I do it? Please, don't insult me.
One minute later, he was texting back. I'm in. What's the name we're looking for?
Already?
Honestly, their firewalls are shit. But just so you don't freak out, I covered my tracks.
I appreciate it.
It did occur to me that two hands would be better than one. And if I could get Atticus something concrete, it might be helpful.
I quickly typed out the details with as little information as possible, and Lance was quiet for a moment before he replied.
Okay, there's not much. Rich dude dies. His head was bashed in. The fishy thing is, the house he died in is owned by aconglomerate. Shell companies up the ying-yang. Let me keep digging.
