Chapter 22
Elara
“W akey, wakey. Good morning, sunshine.” Is the first thing I hear when I come to. But who is talking? I would really like to know who the hell called me ‘sunshine’ because no, just no. My head is pounding and even attempting to open my eyes hurts. I try to move my hand in front of my face to shield my eyes, but I can’t. My arms are tied to the back of the chair I’m sitting in. I try to move my legs and come to the same conclusion.
My brain is foggy. What happened? I remember trying to find evidence to clear my name and figure out who is behind all this. I remember Ryder… Oh god. Where is Ryder? Where am I? The person I heard when I woke up hasn’t said anything in a few minutes. Or was that hours ago? Is Ryder here with me? Or is he dead on the floor of the hotel room? One thing at a time, El .
I found something in a file. It was another anagram. But what were the letters? I try desperately to remember, trying to piece anything I can grasp together. I remember it being an abnormally long name. That’s what made me think it was fake. Words… Wordsworth… It finally clicks as the name pops up in my head like a jack-in-the-box toy. Adler Neal Wordsworth. When I saw it, I knew it would be harder to figure out because there were more options. Longer anagrams are trickier. But I know it’s three words. Likely first, middle, and last. I try my best to focus and get around the lack of mental clarity that is plaguing me at the moment. Andrew Howell Rostrad… Darell Oren Wadsworth…Eward Hollower Strand… None of these ring any bells. Maybe it wasn’t anyone well known but wanted to stay anonymous. I can’t help but not believe that. Something is there. I just need to find it. Howard… Orwell… Earl…Hart . Wait . I try again to open my eyes and while it’s blurry, I can make out a person. Standing maybe 10 feet from me, I think. They are leaning against a table and I see them push off it, walking towards me, my vision getting clearer.
"This could just be me being ambitious, but you know, I honestly didn't think that I was going to get caught," he starts as he strolls around the room.
I stare at Orson Edward Hartwell, director of the FBI and my boss.
"But I did hope that if I did, it wouldn't be you that figured it out. Because now that you know, I have to kill you." he pouts mockingly. "I didn't have a problem killing Bardot. Granted, he only had a piece of information. But, if he thought hard enough, he may have figured it out and I couldn't have that. I assigned him to the Congressman Chanler case because I knew Bardot and Holloway would confirm that it was, without a doubt, a suicide given the scene, and not take a second glance. Bastard Chanler thought he could blackmail me.” He scoffs.
“It was a ‘kill two birds with one stone’ situation, really. I don't have to deal with him anymore and I don't get caught. The best of both worlds… But then I found out Bardot found bank records and revealed it to Holloway.” He continues, tapping his gun on the side of his head. “That just created yet another mess for me to clean up."
He stops pacing and steps directly in front of me, crouching to my eye level. "And then you and Hale found a flash drive that I had no knowledge of that only made it worse for me. And with that, plan B was born; frame you for my crimes." He says, proudly. “And then, you unknowingly made the not so smart decision of bringing up Sebastian Harper, further serving my plan.”
My head is throbbing and the thoughts racing through my mind aren't helping. "But why? What did I ever do to you?" I ask, shaking my head in disbelief. "You didn't do anything, in particular." He replies, "But with your ' I don't need a partner ' attitude, you were my perfect scapegoat if I needed one. Now is that time." I'm being punished for my introverted-ness... that's just low.
"What about Ryder? Why bring him into this?" I question, and he waves me off. "He's a newbie for us. By making him your new partner, if I play my cards right, I can say you persuaded him to join you. Paint him as the gullible puppy dog."
That won't work. Anyone who looks into him would see he's the exact opposite of that. I move my arms in an attempt to loosen the ropes.
"You do realize that he'll find me, right?" I say slyly. "Oh, I'm counting on it. But, once I’m done here, that won’t matter." I try not to show my fear, but I can feel the sweat dripping down my neck. "So, what? You’re going to kill us and then play the innocent one?" I quip.
"You’re catching on." He smirks.
I startle at the sound of the door downstairs bursting open. "Right on schedule." Hartwell grins as he checks his watch. "You two were good together, I must admit. I thought for sure you'd run this one off, too." He states, chuckling.
Before I can shout to Ryder to get out, Hartwell hits me in the temple with the butt of his gun and everything goes black.