Page 76 of Savage Ruin
“Ghosts can’t be seen,” Paulo replies with a cold look in his eyes. “Dealing with traitors is never a pleasant task, is it? Especially when they’re an integral part of our organization. Elimination is always the answer.” He shoots Thiago a knowing glance.
Thiago’s gaze sharpens. “It is.”
I step up to Thiago’s side. “It was nice meeting you, Paulo. I’ll work on staying in my weight class.”
His mouth quirks, but the smile never appears. “I wouldn’t have believed any of you without the evidence. As a thank you, I made a few calls to one of my darker associates. Dr. Harrison Langford owns David Perry’s soul. As an enemy, he’s formidable. In Henley’s case, he’s quite psychotic. The two are known for their black hat expertise.”
Dr. Langford? Not Aaron?
Shocked, I stand there and try to wrap my head around the information he casually dropped on me. Dr. Langford was my advisor at MIT, but I never met with him, only his graduate assistant, Aaron.
Thiago whispers, “Filho da puta.”
Paulo takes a few steps toward the plane, then turns back. “The devil made me do it? Really?”
I shake off the past for a second and laugh. “I thought it would be an easy password for you to remember.”
CHAPTER36
HENLEY
The minute we get to the house, I’m racing for my laptop. Plunking myself down in the middle of the bedroom floor, my fingers fly across the keys, searching for every scrap of information I can find on Dr. Langford.
Dr. Harrison Langford, born 1978, in Greenwich, Connecticut. Parents: Shirley Langford Ross and Harold Ross. I dive into the community. Shockingly, the local paper returns hundreds of Langford results. One article in 1978 stands out. “A Son and Heir for the Langford Millions.”
At long last, it’s a boy and an heir for the Langford millions! Shirley Langford Ross and Harold Ross of Greenwich welcome Harrison Langford Ross.Baby weight, blah, blah.Shirley Langford’s great-great-grandfather, Henry Langford, the youngest son of Baron Baybrooke, settled in Greenwich in the mid-1800s and used his considerable inheritance to buy into the booming railroad industry. Over the next one hundred and twenty-five years, the Langfords diversified their portfolio and continued to increase their wealth, becoming one of Greenwich’s wealthiest families. Harold Ross runs the Langford family business, Baybrooke Enterprises…
Interesting. He must have dropped the Ross at some point.
There’s a picture of a man and woman holding a baby in front of a massive colonial home. Sticking with thelocalpaper, I click on every mention of Harrison, but so few of them have any pictures of him. Frustrated, I quickly highlight a bunch of them and open them all into new windows.
After checking dozens of articles, I finally find one with a picture, but he’s turned away from the camera. What the hell does he look like? Tap, close. Tap, close. Tap, close. Over and over, I tap to open the article and close it when it doesn’t give me what I want.
Finally, I get to a graduation article, and he’s there in his cap and gown, standing stiffly between his parents. His parents are barely smiling at the camera, but unlike the students in the background, this family is not standing with their arms around each other. In fact, they look uncomfortable.
Tall, with medium brown hair and eyes, he doesn’t look like a monster, but on this happy occasion, there isn’t an ounce of emotion on his face. How does one go from this boy to the man who terrorized me for years?
The article mentions Harvard as the first stop for the brilliant genius.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I jump.
“It’s just me, Henley,” Grayson states softly. “It’s eight a.m. and you’ve been at this all night. Why don’t you take a break and come eat something? This will be here when you finish.”
“I don’t want anything to eat,” I tell him, returning to the information in front of me. Another article talks about his graduation from Harvard. In it, he informs the reporter Harvard was his father’s choice and with that out of the way, he can go to MIT and get his master’s degree. Computers are the future, he states. Unfortunately, he doesn’t look much different in this picture than he did in the one from high school, but the article does refer to him as Harrison Langford, not Harrison Langford Ross.
“Do you want a tray?”
I blink. What? “I don’t want anything to eat,” I state firmly. Where was I? Third one down. I click on it. Master’s from MIT, returning for PhD, no picture.
Damn it.I keep clicking on articles, but I can’t find one image of him as an adult where he’s facing the camera. Even on the website where those students published their papers for his class, he’s looking down at the desk and grading papers.
He sighs. “How about some coffee? I’ll bring you coffee and toast. If you decide you want more, you can let me know, okay?” He lays a hand on my arm. “Henley?”
“Will you please leave me alone?! I told you I’m not hungry!” I yell.
His head rears back as he looks at me in shock, then walks out.
My hand flies to my mouth.Fuck, fuck.I scramble to my feet. With Grayson’s past abuse, the last thing I should ever do is yell at him. Running to the kitchen, I stop when I see Thiago and Mateo having a serious conversation.
