Page 52 of A Man of Wealth

“Miss, are you OK?” he says. I want to roll my eyes because this giant brute is an idiot, and even I can tell that here in the pitch-black street.

“Ouch! I think I sprained my ankle,” I cry as I grab it and roll on the ground.

“Uh, here, let me see,” he says.

“Oh, no, don’t touch it! It hurts,” I moan.

“Do you have a phone? Can you call someone? Do you need an ambulance?” he asks as he crouches down. I look past him for a second and see Conner enter the building.

Now, I just need to keep him distracted long enough for Conner to search around, and then I can say I think I’ll be fine and call myself a car. Or at least, that’s the plan.

Chapter21

Conner

The only lightsinside come from the lights surrounding the offloading dock. I know this area is filled with motion-sensing cameras. Vivienne was right, night vision goggles would be a great addition to this mission right now. I keep low and look around. It looks just like a normal office building. My father’s office is beyond a door at the far end of the room. I make my way along the ground, dodging and weaving as I notice different motion sensors. I can hear Vivienne outside making quite the distraction. Stupid woman! She’s liable to get us killed.

I reach the far side of the room and look at the door to my father’s office and the one to a storage closet. Where would he hide it?

I try to think like my father, cunning and deceptive.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” he always said. My intellect tells me to try the storage closet, but my gut says to go to my father’s office. I crawl along the wall and try the doorknob. It’s locked, of course.

I grin. My father didn’t teach me to love, but he sure as fuck taught me to steal. I pull out a tool I always keep on my key chain and pick the lock. I look for sensors, but aside from the motion sensors, I don’t see anything. He’s seldom here, so it’s likely he doesn’t employ all the high-tech security he does at his city offices. Also, a decaying building in an industrial lot in the harbor doesn’t exactly scream for security breach likely. No one would look here for anything, except maybe a dead washed-up body.

Holding my breath, I slowly push the door open once the lock clicks. I peek inside. I see his desk, a few chairs, and some file cabinets. Nothing looks out of place. I see zero motion sensors inside the room, which doesn’t surprise me. He wouldn’t want someone hacking in here and seeing what goes on when he is here. But why was a guard stationed here while he isn’t on the premises? My nerves are frayed, and I know whatever I’m looking for has to be in here.

I crawl into the room and look around again. Where would he hide a refrigerated box of drugs in here?

I text Aiden as a realization dawns on me.

Me: If the drug isn’t in a box, then what would I be looking for?

I watch the three little dots appear on my screen. Come on, Dr. Jekyll, I say to myself. We always called Aiden Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He can come off as a typical nice guy one second, and then a total badass fucker the next.

Aiden: It would likely be in small vials, like this.

He texts a photo and I look at it and groan. They are small and could fit in the palm of my hand. That shit could be anywhere. With a refrigerated container, we had a chance, with a small vile, the odds are definitely not in my favor.

I sit back against the wall. I can still hear Vivienne outside. I need her to keep up the act as long as possible. But mostly, I need her to be safe, which means I need to hurry the fuck up and get the hell out of here.

My eyes have adjusted to the shadowy room, giving me the ability to make out more objects that appear in various shades of black and gray in the darkness. Something catches my eye and I get up and walk to a wall unit along the back of the room. Running my fingers along the handle of a cigar humidor the size of a cabinet, memories bubble to the surface.

“Get me a cigar,” my father commanded. I was maybe fourteen and home from school because I had been running a fever, but my father made me come with him, telling me to “man up.”

I open the door and retrieve an old wooden box and open it, surprised to find five cigars and a gold watch. I shut the humidity and temperature controlled cabinet as I look at the box’s contents again.

“Dad?” I asked, holding up the watch.

“Leave it. My friends don’t always know when to stop. I like to keep souvenirs to remind them. Now, bring the cigar,” he demanded.

The watch, what was it about the watch. I try to remember but the memory fades just as fast as it surfaced. I open the cabinet and pull out the box. Jackpot! That motherfucker is so fucking predictable! I’m surprised this hasn’t gotten him killed. But lucky for me, he doesn’t often change his ways.

I find a dozen vials in the bottom beneath six cigars. I lean under his desk and take photos, hoping no one will see the flashes. Then I take one vial and wrap it in a tissue before placing it in my pocket.

Me: Got it.

Aiden: Get the hell out of there.

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