Page 95 of The Woman with the Target on her Back (Grassi Family)

I fiddled around on the laptop for a minute, finding that he kept absolutely everything buried in folders upon folders. Even the icon for his security system. Most of said folders were password locked.

Thankfully, the one with the security system wasn’t locked, and the feeds came up relatively easily.

I watched in reverse as I moved into the study, as we talked in the kitchen, as August and I first came in.

August’s footsteps moved toward the study, coming around the desk as I rewound through nothingness.

And then, movement.

People in the frame.

Men.

My father fighting with someone, then whacking his head on the way down, where he landed unconscious.

“There,” August said as I made the image freeze.

As all the blood left my body.

“What is it?” August asked. “Traveler?” he asked, but it wasn’t until he touched me that I seemed to snap out of it. “Do you know who it is?” he asked.

Yes.

Yes, I did.

“That’s my Uncle Stan.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Traveler

It made perfect sense.

Had I more time to really go over the events of the night, I would have likely come to this conclusion even without the footage of his betrayal.

Of course it had been Stan.

The man in my house, entrusted with my safety.

He had access to my phone while I’d been in the shower, stealing it so I couldn’t call for help, couldn’t tell my father what was happening.

Because killing me was just the first phase in the process.

The timestamp on the video from my father’s house put it about twenty minutes after I stole his fancy-ass car and went for reinforcements.

“Trav, come on,” August said, grabbing my hand, and physically pulling me away from the desk, forcing me to go with him into the foyer, out the front door.

I paused numbly to lock the system.

Force of habit.

Then I followed August and Aurelio to Milo’s car.

“What’s his address?” August asked as my head spun.

My “uncle” betraying my father.

How long had it been going on?

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