Page 115 of The Deals We Make
With that, King and Bates leave the room.
I have two choices: Chase after them and go follow that fucking tracker. Or listen to what both Switch and King said. I calm my breath enough to think rationally for a moment.
They’re right.
Now, I need to find Orson.
I think of searching the web for his details, but then, I remember how I found out about Calista’s stalker. She was talking to someone. Becca?
I search up the name of Calista’s company and find a company directory. I sift through, looking for a Becca, until I think properly and realize she’s probably listed under the full version of her name. Rebecca.
I dial the main number, tapping my fingers on the desk. “Come on,” I mutter.
“Good afternoon, Valentine Security. How can I help you?” the woman who answers says.
“I need to speak to Rebecca Potter.”
“One moment, I’ll put you through.”
The phone clicks and another ringtone begins.
“This is Becca.”
“Becca. Are you Calista’s assistant?”
“I am, yes. How can I help?”
“I need Orson’s phone number.”
“What? I mean, I need a bit more detail than that.”
I take a breath. “Sorry. It’s Tiberius. Vex. Calista’s…boyfriend.”
“Oh…oh. Calista told me all about you. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you, at first, because Calista?—”
“We’re worried something has happened to Calista. I need that private investigator Orson’s phone number.”
“Oh my God. Is she okay? Wait, of course you don’t know if she’s okay. That was a really ridiculous thing to?—”
“Becca. Sweetheart. The number.”
“Oh, right. One second.”
I hear the tapping of keys, then a pause. Becca rattles the number off to me, and I write it down.
“Is this something to do with the call we had today? Her phone got cut-off, and she never called me back.”
“What was she calling you about?”
“I called her. She got invited to a big deal event. And then, she asked about the date of theForbesarticle about her. When I told her, she said something along the lines of, ‘That’s it. Of course, it is. Walt Timberlake. I need to call Orson.’ She was in the middle of saying something else and the line died.”
“That’s good to know, Becca.”
“That’swhy she freaked out!”
My palms sweat as I hold my phone. “What is?”
“In the article, she addressed the whole thing about him trying to take credit for her business success, and she completely shut him down. I bet she calculated that the messages started coming around the same time. Should we call the police?”
