Page 77 of Critical Mass
Hudson was out of time.
Natalie had waited, her stomach clenched with anxiety.
She knew exactly what Hudson was doing.
The bathroom had been a convenient excuse. What he’d really wanted was access to her father’s study. He wanted the chance to search for evidence, to photograph documents, to find proof of whatever Blackout suspected.
It was a huge risk. Her father noticedeverything.
Natalie forced herself to take a bite of her cheesecake, to continue the conversation as if nothing was wrong. But her mind was racing, calculating how long Hudson had been gone.
Thirty seconds. A minute.
Her father was still talking, something about the shipping industry and new regulations, but Natalie barely heard him. She was too busy tracking time, too aware of the empty chair acrossfrom her, too conscious that every second Hudson was gone increased the chance of discovery.
Come on, Hudson. Whatever you’re looking for, find it fast and get out.
Her father went quiet.
Natalie looked up and found him staring down the hallway, his expression thoughtful in a way that made her pulse spike.
Two and a half minutes.
“That’s quite a long bathroom break,” her father said.
She heard the edge beneath his words and quickly said, “He probably got a phone call. Work thing. You know how consultants are—always on the job.”
Her father’s eyes shifted to her, assessing. “Does he make a habit of taking work calls during dinner?”
“No, I—I’m just guessing. I don’t know for certain.”
Three minutes.
Her father stood, his napkin placed carefully on the table.
“I should check on Timothy,” he said. “He’s been gone a while.”
Panic shot through her. Hudsonhadbeen gone too long—long enough that her father’s suspicion was clearly aroused.
If he found Hudson anywhere other than the bathroom, if he caught him in the study?—
Natalie stood abruptly, her hip catching the edge of the table and nearly knocking over her glass. She caught it just in time, her heart hammering.
“Actually, I’ll check on him.” She forced a smile, tried to look embarrassed rather than terrified. “I need to use the restroom anyway.”
Her father’s gaze sharpened on her face, and Natalie knew he was reading her body language, noting her nervous energy and the slight tremor in her hands.
“Go ahead,” he said. “I need to check in with security anyway. They’ve been texting me.”
That might buy her a few minutes—might give Hudson time to get out of that study and back to the bathroom where he was supposed to be.
She rose to her feet and headed toward the hallway.
The bathroom door was closed but not locked—she checked as she passed it.
Which meant Hudson wasn’t in there.
The study door was closed but with a sliver of light beneath it.
