Page 104 of Only the Devil
Jake’s right. We don’t have anything to prove otherwise, other than common sense.
“We could go to the hangar; be sure they aren’t planning on?—”
“They won’t kill him on American soil. Especially on property they own. The hangar he’s mentioning is property owned by Sterling Financial. After everything that happened today, they’re not going to be down for a blatant murder on their property. Besides, we heard the plan.”
He’s right. We heard the plan. It still doesn’t sit well.
“We won. It’s time to relax and appreciate the win.”
Perhaps Jake’s right. Tomorrow’s Sunday, and while the online world will be a flutter, it’s doubtful there will be any action. Sterling will likely leave the country, which will make an investigation more likely. The company’s done. Sterling won’t hurt anyone else again.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“For having my back up on the stage.”
His arms tighten around me. “Always.”
Outside, pedestrians stroll along the sidewalk, unaware that one of the area’s most powerful predators has finally been caged. It feels like I’ve claimed vindication for Uncle Alvin. Righted wrong. It’s time to be happy. To relax. I should be happy and relaxed.
The faded blue of the dried-out swimming pool in the Hollywood Dreams motel turned apartment complex flashes, complete with the green-tinged amorphous puddle in the deep end.
No, if something can go wrong, it will.
As if on cue, Brie says, “Daisy, your phone’s lighting up. Sterling messaged you. He wants you to call him.”
Chapter 33
Jake
Daisy takes the phone from Brie to read the message, and I look to my team, knowing we haven’t fleshed out this part of the plan.
“She shouldn’t call, right? Best to let him get on that plane, then email her resignation on Monday. No one will question her quitting after what happened today. There’s no evidence to connect her to the altered presentation. I’ll resign on Monday too, or maybe I’ll stick around through the end of the week to observe? Then we jump?”
“Makes sense,” Noah says. “Then we’re done here.”
Brie’s the one who crosses her arms and frowns. “She could potentially learn a lot if she returns to the office on Monday. What she observes could be useful for investigators. We’ve come this far. Why wouldn’t she take it through to the end?”
Because someone in that company might be the murderer—’cause we all know damn well Phillip Sterling didn’t risk his manicure. And a guy named Bennett sure as hell didn’t either.
“Phillip wants me to bring him some things he needs from the office. I just texted you the address of where I’m meeting him, but you have it already, right?”
Her question is ludicrous, but her voice is distant—and that’s when I realize she’s already halfway up the stairs, phone still in hand.
I glance at the address that came through. “He wants you to meet at the hangar? Absolutely not. His plan could be to force you onto the plane with him.”
Daisy’s not listening as she’s in the bedroom, probably changing. I look to Noah and Brie. “Hell no. She’s not walking into a trap.”
Noah leans against the kitchen island, thoughtful. His silence doesn’t help one damn bit.
Brie taps her index finger against the corner of her lip, considering, and therefore it bears repeating. “No. She’s not doing it.”
“Think about it. He doesn’t know she’s working with anyone else. Worst case scenario, he’s determined she’s the logical culprit. She uploaded the presentation. She’s the newest employee, and she has a personal vendetta.”
She’s making my case for me so I let her keep on talking.
“We know from what we overheard that they’re focused on identifying the culprit. Worst case scenario is that they’ve determined it’s her. They aren’t going to kill her on the spot.”
