Page 69 of A Violet Obsession

Joey Garza.

Twenty-year sentence. Out in less than six. A little more digging shows that Garza offered testimony against high-value cellmates in exchange for early release. A snitch. Ironic, considering he’s vowed revenge on the woman who testified against him.

Pete, the other man present the night Lily was shot, died of cancer in prison two years ago, and his brother Keith, the no-show getaway driver, has been working construction. Nothing shows they are involved with the robbery at the auction house. But studying the pictures I find online, I’m convinced Keith is the man I saw outside Lily’s building.

My phone buzzes against the table.

“You’re up late,” I say, keeping my voice low so it doesn’t carry to the bedroom.

“I’d say so are you, but since I’m convinced you’re part vampire, I knew you’d answer,” Sera says.

“Where’s your husband? Doesn’t Liev usually have you locked down by now?”

“Nah.” I can hear the shrug in her voice. “I think he had some bodies to bury.”

I huff out something close to a laugh. But it dies fast because I know she didn’t call this late to chat.

“The alerts you set up on the internet for searches on Elite employees went off,” she says. “On all of us.” When I don’t say anything, she continues. “All of us, Finn—financials, property records, the works. Pretty sure it has something to do with your new, sexy, red-haired friend.”

“Voss knows I’m helping her.” I pull off my glasses and press my thumb against the dull ache growing in my eye. “So that’s not exactly a shock.”

“Maybe. I tried tracing back some of the searches, but,” she sighs. “It’s beyond what I can do, even with all the back doors and worms you’ve put all over the internet. Whoever is doing the search either has your brains and skill level, or someone with a shit ton of money has bought a hacker who does.” She pauses. “I’d say it’s Voss, but…”

“But what?”

“Isn’t the guy who runs that cult or whatever—the one who actually bought the necklace at auction—a billionaire, too? If I spent thirty-five million on something and it was stolen before I got it, I’d want to talk to the person everyone says is behind it.” She makes a sound I can’t decipher. “Have you read some of the stuff the Transcendent’s believe? They’re seriously out there with their crystal worship, but his followers seem devoted. Ya know, just in case you thought you didn’t have enough people who might be hunting you.”

Damn it, there are too many variables. I push out a slow breath, working through them, and that’s when it hits me.

Luke.

“I didn’t build an alert for him,” I say.

“What?”

“Luke. I built the monitoring around Elite. Our operatives, and their families. He’s not an employee, so I never included him.” A stupid oversight that could lead someone straight to us. “He owns this cabin.”

“He told you it couldn’t be traced easily.”

“I know, and I thought that was enough. With enough time, a hacker like you’re describing will find it.”

“I’m sorry, Finn.” Her voice softens with regret. “I wish I knew how to build one of your alert packages, but I don’t. Could you do it from there?”

“No, I don’t have the equipment or the bandwidth necessary.”

“Watch your back, okay? I’ve gotten kind of fond of you.”

Pissed at myself for not foreseeing the risk, I end the call without answering.

Somewhere out there, someone is quietly drawing a map, and I don't know if they've already found the path that stops at this door.

Outside, the storm is turning vicious. Trees thrash in the high wind, visible even in the dark. I cross to the windows. Snow already buries the deck, and jagged icicles decorate the railing. A sharp crack splits the night, followed by popping and cracking. Some of these trees won’t last the night. The cabin sits in a small clearing, so I’m not worried about one landing on us. The power lines strung across the mountain are another story.

As if I’ve cursed us, the dots of light on the other mountains disappear, and moments later I’m standing in darkness.

The laptop screen glows alone for a second, before I close it to save the battery. I bank the fire, raking the coals, then drag the spare pillow and throw blanket to the sofa, and resign myself to a sleepless night of misery.

I’m lying with my feet hanging off the end of the sofa when the scream tears through the cabin.