Brenda stepped further into the room, her pry-bar held like a weapon. Evelyn followed, her gaze still sweeping the floor where the portfolio had fallen. I remained hidden in the deepest shadows, the stun baton a cold weight in my palm.
“Just tell us where the drives are, Marcus,” Brenda said, her voice a low growl. “This doesn’t have to get worse.”
I ignored her, my focus entirely on the portfolio. I needed to know what was inside. I fumbled for my tactical flashlight, clicking it on with a soft glow.
The beam cut through the darkness, illuminating the documents within the folder. My breath hitched.
It wasn’t payment receipts. Not from Kincaid.
The top sheet was a printed email exchange. My eyes darted to the sender and recipient.
“Brenda Holloway” to “Leo Delaney.”
My son. Leo.
My fingers trembled, shaking the light beam across the page. The subject line read: “Urgent – Safehouse package.”
The content jumped out at me. A wire transfer confirmation. Fifteen thousand dollars. Sent from Leo’s student account.
The email continued: “…to retrieve the server drives. They’ll be there within 48 hours. Please, Brenda, you have to get them out before Kincaid’s teams arrive. Dad won’t listen.”
My vision blurred. Leo. He had hired Brenda.
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