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Sylvia popped her head around the computer, and I smothered my grin, shaking my head. “No. I was just reading something.”
“I really like the social media feedback so far, Mr. Evans. Ms. Lynn is really entertaining,” the young programmer told me. “She really engages with the followers.”
My smile faded slightly. “Does she?”
“Uh huh. It’s like she’s your friend.”
A spark of alarm twinged through me, but I dismissed it as I nodded. “She’s got a good sense for these things.”
She knows what she’s doing. She’s smart and savvy. Always has been.
“She’s a lot of fun,” I agreed.
“That she is. I hope she enjoys the conference in Reno.”
My shoulders stiffened again as Sylvia’s head disappeared back behind the divider. “Sylvia…”
She reappeared. “Yes, Mr. Evans?”
“How did you know Ms. Lynn is at a conference in Reno?”
Sylvia held up her phone and gestured at her Instagram feed. “Her schedule’s posted. I guess it’s supposed to act as a meet and greet opportunity.”
“What?”
“Her schedule is posted. Not just today, but her entire week.”
Cold dread washed through my gut now. “Let me see that, please?”
Shrugging, Sylvia handed me her phone, and I scrolled through Mylee’s profile. Her entire schedule was posted in public for the world to see.
“What the hell…?” I muttered, wondering how Mylee could be so careless.
Richard Crossman was still on the loose, and there were certain protocols to be observed. Why would Mylee just post her schedule for the entire world to see?
I handed Sylvia back her phone and reached for mine, jumping up from my chair to stalk out of IT as fast as my legs would carry me. My hands reached for my phone, dialing out to Mylee’s as I moved.
“You’ve reached Mylee Lynn at Silverpiece Corporation,” her voicemail cooed in my ear. “Please be a normal human being and send a text or an email. Thank you!”
“Mylee, call me as soon as you get this,” I growled, heading toward the elevators. “It’s important.”
My palms turned sweaty as I called Lincoln, but I lost him as soon as I stepped onto the elevator.
“I’m coming up. Stay where you are,” I ordered, punching the button for the twenty-ninth floor.
To my surprise, Paxton was in Lincoln’s office when I arrived, his face drawn and worried.
“Have you seen Mylee’s Instagram?” I demanded.
“Have you heard from Mylee?” they barked back at me in unison.
I froze in the doorway, staring at them. “No… why?”
Without speaking, Lincoln turned in his swivel chair and aimed the remote toward the mounted television behind him.
A primped redheaded journalist sat in a newsroom, reading from the teleprompter, a clip playing in the background. “…brazen kidnapping in the middle of the day. Authorities are unsure if this is a publicity stunt instigated by the Silverpiece Corporation, who has recently involved themselves in some questionable social media stunts—”
“What the hell is this?” I demanded, striding forward to peer more closely at the clip.
