Chapter 19
It was the alcohol, it had to be.
The fact that Con didn’t hate Alex Frost within the first few seconds of meeting her was unknown territory for him. He knew that he was going to despise Chris Hale mainly because he’d despised every partner he’d had since Tate Abernathy.
But Alex seemed different.
For one, she hadn’t sucked up to him, claiming to be a big fan despite clearly knowing who he was. Two, Alex didn’t feel the need to fill empty spaces with emptier words. Unlike Hale, she kept her mouth shut, spoke sparingly, only when necessary. He could see the gears behind her eyes working, however.
She was smart, a thinker.
Case and point, their shared opinion that they were missing a key detail in this case: the money. Who was gaining and who was losing.
But none of this meant that Con wasn’t going to put young Alex Frost to the test.
He had to know her breaking point.
After dropping his new partner off at the office, Con drove back to the OC Post. He carried the copy of Entertainment Weekly featuring Thomas Ellsberg with him as he walked up to Dwight’s desk.
The reporter had headphones on and was squinting at his computer screen. He didn’t hear Con approach.
Con slammed the magazine down on the desk, startling Dwight.
“Agent Striker,” Dwight said, pulling the headphones down around his neck. He was nervous, his eyes moving back and forth as he planned a possible exit strategy.
Con positioned himself so that if Dwight stood, he would bump into him.
The man was like a cornered rat.
Instead of saying anything, Con just deliberately and dramatically looked down at the cover of Entertainment Weekly.
“What did I write now?” Dwight grumbled.
“An article about Thomas Ellsberg and his new production company EE.”
“Right.” Dwight massaged the back of his neck with one hand. “I didn’t think that you were—” The man suddenly snapped his fingers. “Wait, this is about what you said last time, right? About Imperial Productions and pirated movies?”
Con nodded.
“Let me guess, this about last year’s releases? Uh , uh, ” more finger-snapping, “ Quantum Guardian, Rise of the Titans , and Eclipse , right?”
Con straightened and backed up, giving Dwight more space.
“That’s right. You’ve seen them?”
“Yeah, I had to watch them—”
“I mean the pirated ones.”
Dwight recoiled and made a face.
“N-no.”
“Then how did you know those were the films I was asking about?”
“It’s just,” Dwight licked his lips, “Ellsberg was a producer at IP last year and those were their three big films. I just assumed… Look, I don’t—I don’t watch pirated movies.”
Con was enjoying watching the man squirm.
He came by his distaste for reporters honestly.
Before catching The Sandman, Con had been personally lambasted by them.
“I’m not concerned with who’s watching these movies. I want to know who’s putting them out.”
“Well—well,” Dwight stammered, “I don’t know. How would I know?”
“If you had to guess?”
“Some kid?”
“No, whoever did this had to have access to the movies early on.”
“Then some employee, some disgruntled employee trying to get back at his boss,” Dwight offered with a shrug. “There’s no real money to be made in pirated movies anymore.”
“ Hmm .”
Adon Guerrero fit the bill, but he had too much to lose.
“What about Thomas Ellsberg?” Con asked, his eyes drifting to the magazine.
“No. Why?”
“I don’t know. He’s mad because he got cut loose by IP? Forced to start his own firm?”
“You didn’t—you didn’t read the article, did you?”
“I just looked at the pretty pictures.”
“Right, well, Thomas left on good terms—his own terms. He wanted to start EE. Nobody forced him out,” Dwight informed him. His discomfort faded as he entered familiar territory. “But you know what? I did an article a few years back on pirated movies, managed to speak to the man who pioneered torrent-sharing software. I can—”
“What’s his name?”
“That… that I can’t do that.”
Con leaned forward but when Dwight’s rat-like expression didn’t change, he retreated again.
“I won’t reveal my sources, Agent Striker.”
Con reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card. The corners were bent, and the white paper had long since yellowed.
“Reach out to your guy. I want to know who’s making money from these pirated films.”
Dwight took the card and Con spun around.
“Wait! Your magazine,” the reporter called after him. “Your magazine!”
“Keep it,” Con said over his shoulder. “I already looked at all the pictures.”