Page 34 of Can You Take It?

Noah rubs his chin thoughtfully. “True.”

Noah pulls out a pair of gloves and starts examining the body. I let him do his thing while I scan the room, looking for anything that might give us a clue. My eyes land on a laptop sitting on the desk. I step over and try to wake it up, but of course, it’s locked. Useless. I move on, rifling through the drawers. Papers, pens, nothing interesting—until I spot something unusual.

Tucked away in the back of the drawer is a small stack of business cards. Black background, red text—same damn design as the one we found before. I flip it over, my gut churning as I read the name: SteelSinner.

The IP address we traced from SteelSinner’s online activity came back from somewhere way outside the States. It’s like he’s running his game from halfway across the world. Only problem is, he’s clearly operating here orwasoperating from here.

This means one of two things: either he had a tech whiz helping him out from overseas, or he had the cash to pay someone who could keep him hidden behind a fancy VPN or something like that. Or maybe he was tech-savvy enough himself to pull it off. Either way, the bastard wasn’t working alone, or he hadn’t just relied on basic tech. He’s got some serious resources, and that’s making my job a hell of a lot harder.

As I am stewing over this, something clicks in the recesses of my thoughts. Izel’s cousin was into tech, wasn’t he? Thememory’s fuzzy, but I’m pretty sure I remember something about that. The connection feels too convenient to ignore.

I pull out my phone and call Emily. She picks up on the first ring, already knowing I don’t call unless it’s urgent.

“Emily, I need you to send over Izel’s background reports to my email. Specifically, I want everything on her family relations.”

“You got it, Rick. I’ll have it in your inbox in five.”

True to her word, my phone dings a few minutes later. I open the email and start scrolling through the files, cross-referencing every damn thing. And wouldn’t you know it? Izel’s cousin does own a tech company. That can’t be a fucking coincidence. She pointed us to this lead, and her cousin just happens to be some tech whiz? Yeah, right.

I’m searching for the connection, but it keeps slipping away, and it’s pissing me off. Izel’s smart, cagey as hell, and if she doesn’t want to give me anything, I’m not getting shit out of her.

I glance over at Noah, still focused on the body, oblivious to what I’ve just found. I thumb through the stack of cards—there aren’t many left. This was a business meant for a select few, no doubt. I should bag them, tag them as evidence. But instead, I shove them into my pocket.

Fuck. Why am I doing this? I don’t even know. But something tells me to keep this under wraps, at least for now.

I walk over to Noah. “We need to get the local PD on this. Let them handle the mess while we focus on the bigger picture.”

Noah nods, pulling out his phone to inform the local police. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get out of here.”

We leave Janson’s Antiques behind, and I head straight for my house. When I walk through the door, I find Izel sitting on the couch, surfing through the channels.

“We need to talk,” I say, not bothering with pleasantries.

She looks at me. “About what?”

“About Charles, the guy who just got butchered. You pointed us to him, and now he’s dead.”

Izel smirks, not a trace of concern on her face. “Oh, poor Charles. Guess he won’t be making it to poker night then.”

“Don’t fucking mock this. It’s convenient how everyone connected to you ends up dead.”

“You’re right,” she says, and for a minute I can finally see some remorse in her eyes, but then she opens her mouth again. “Maybe I’m cursed. Maybe a witch put a hex on me, and now everyone I come into contact with dies a horrible death. Better watch your back, Agent.”

“Goddamn it, Izel!” I shout, unable to hold back my anger. “This is serious! People are dying—”

“You’re such a drama queen. People die all the time. It’s not my fault if the universe decides to take a few people out after I’ve met them.”

I grab the remote from her hand and turn off the TV, forcing her to look at me. “You think this is funny?”

She leans back, crossing her arms. “I think you need to relax. Stress isn’t good for you, you know.”

I take a deep breath. “You’re not getting it. We need to find out who’s doing this and why they’re targeting people connected to you. If you know anything, now’s the time to spill it.”

Izel sighs dramatically, like this whole thing is a huge inconvenience. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Start from the beginning. How did you know Charles?”

“I didn’t know him personally. I attended a woodworking workshop a long time ago. Charles was the instructor there. He introduced us to snakewood, showed us some advanced techniques. That’s it. After the workshop ended, I never saw him again.”

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