Chapter 38
Just as Rowan said those words, the floorboards creaked upstairs.
The house was waking up, she realized.
There were too many people. Too many ears.
She looked back at Wes. “Can we go somewhere else to talk?”
Understanding immediately crossed his expression.
A few minutes later they sat side by side on the front porch with coffee mugs warming their hands and her laptop open between them.
Rowan stared at the email on the screen.
Finally, she drew in a breath and clicked the email open.
Hi, Rowan,
You don’t know me, but I’m Thayer’s sister, Lauren. My brother gave me your number. I’ve tried calling once or twice, but I understand why you probably aren’t answering unknown numbers right now.
I don’t think my brother’s death was an accident.
Before he died, Thayer was acting strange.
Nervous. Distracted. He told me there were things happening around the current production he was working on that weren’t right.
He never explained everything directly, but he mentioned Vince several times.
He said Vince had information on people. Things he used to control them.
A day before he died, Thayer sent me several files and told me to keep them safe. I still have them. I looked at some of them. It’s bad, Rowan. Really bad.
I’m scared to send them electronically. Maybe that sounds paranoid, but after what happened to my brother, I don’t know who to trust anymore.
If you’re willing to talk, call me.
Please be careful. If someone killed my brother, they might kill you too if they think you know too much.
Lauren Holt
Her phone number was at the bottom.
Rowan read the message twice before looking away from the screen.
“Thayer confided in someone,” she murmured.
Wes nodded once. “That’s good.”
She looked at him. “Good?”
“It means if Vince killed Thayer to contain information, he failed.”
The realization settled in Rowan’s thoughts.
Wes was right. Thayer had known he was in danger. At least partly. Enough to send evidence somewhere safe before confronting Vince.
“He was trying to protect himself,” she murmured.
“And maybe protect someone else too.”
Rowan looked back at the screen. “This confirms Vince had information on people. That sounds exactly like what Thayer was trying to tell me before everything happened.”
Wes leaned forward, forearms braced against his knees as he visibly worked through the implications. “I wonder what kind of files Thayer sent his sister?”
Rowan shrugged. “I don’t know. But maybe this is the path forward I’ve been searching for.”
Wes looked at her. “It may be enough to bring Vince down.”
The words settled between them.
For the first time since Thayer’s death, Vince Furlough no longer seemed untouchable.
Rowan stared at the email another minute before scrolling to the phone number at the bottom.
“Do you think I should call her?” she murmured.
Wes shifted beside her on the porch swing. “You want to call?”
“I do. I really do.”
Wes nodded. “It’s worth a try.”
Rowan punched the number into her phone and pressed Call before she could overthink it.
The line rang four times. Then voicemail picked up.
A generic automated message played. There was no name.
Rowan hesitated before saying, “This is Rowan. I got your email. Please call me back.”
She ended the call and lowered the phone into her lap.
Now it was in Lauren’s hands.
“You think she’s legitimate?” Rowan asked.
“Yes.” The certainty in Wes’s answer surprised her.
“Why?”
He raised a shoulder. “Fear is hard to fake.”
The words settled over the porch.
Rowan looked back down at the email.
Thayer sent me several files.
Whatever those files were, he’d trusted Lauren enough to hide them with her instead of keeping them himself.
Which meant he’d known he was vulnerable before he died.
Just then, her phone rang.
Both she and Wes jerked their gazes toward it.
The screen showed an unknown number. But it was the same Kentucky area code.
Rowan’s pulse jumped.
Wes looked at her once. “Answer it.”
She swiped the screen. “Hello?”
A man answered. “Someone from this number called Lauren’s phone.”
Rowan straightened, concern rushing through her. “Who is this?”
“Who are you?” Caution edged the man’s voice.
“This is Rowan King. Lauren emailed me about her brother.”
Silence met that, long enough for Rowan’s grip on the phone to tighten.
Then the man let out a shaky breath. “I’m her boyfriend. Ben. Lauren’s missing.”
Rowan froze. “What do you mean missing?”
“She never showed up at work yesterday.” He swallowed loud enough for her to hear. “Her phone was still at the apartment. Purse too. That’s not like her. Lauren doesn’t go anywhere without her phone.”
Cold spread through Rowan’s chest. “When was the last time you talked to her?”
“Yesterday morning before she was supposed to head into work. She seemed nervous about something, but she wouldn’t tell me what.”
Certainty settled inside Rowan, and she knew Lauren Holt hadn’t vanished by accident.