72. Eli #2
“This all starts with him,” I continue. “His death is the trigger event. If this threat is connected—and I believe it is—then whoever left that noose has a reason tied to what happened on the beach. We need to know everyone in Brock’s life. Every connection. Every relationship.”
“You have Sage’s account of the party,” Odin says.
“We have the broad strokes,” Holden says. “We haven’t done a deep debrief. But I’ll walk her through it today, push her a little harder for connections she might have noticed. Show her photos of known associates.”
“What about his personal attachments?” Odin asks. “Beyond the party. The man had a life.”
“Only child. Parents travel a lot,” Holden says.
“Apartment in the city as home base. But mostly they’re jet-setting around the world.
No travel outside the area in the last month.
They attempted to file a missing persons report, were pushing pretty hard for police to investigate.
But it’s going nowhere after Milo and Fenrir’s cloned voicemail.
That was enough to get the parents to back off.
They now think Brock left on his own and is having some kind of rich kid temper tantrum on a beach somewhere. ”
Odin nods. He taps the espresso cup with a single fingertip, eyes closing for a beat.
“So we have family and friends who didn’t believe he left town on his own—while they may be appeased for now, we can’t rule them out.
The fact they contacted authorities means they’re unlikely to stage vigilante theater in her living room.
” Odin’s gaze finds mine across the room, steady as ever.
“Still, one ghost can wake others. What about romantically? Was he involved with anyone?”
“Maybe,” Milo says, glancing toward Micah whose jaw is tight.
“The night we killed Brock,” Micah offers. “We were going through his phone trying to figure out our cover story. While Milo was working, a message came in from someone named Stephen.”
“What did this message say?” Odin’s brow lifts with interest.
“It said something like, ‘Still coming over tonight?’ with a couple of emojis added that generally mean intercourse of some kind,” Micah continues.
“We blew it off. In the moment, it looked like nothing—a randy friend checking in. Milo sent a brush-off from Brock’s phone and we moved on to the cleanup. ”
“Since then, Mr. Stephen’s been regularly blowing up Brock’s phone, making demands, threatening to escalate. But then, so has Tyler so . . . .” Milo shrugs.
“Explain the threats,” Odin says.
“Honestly, they came across as scorned lover, bunny boiler type stuff. Like, where the fuck are you, answer me, if you’re ghosting me I’ll come to your place, that kind of thing,” Milo says. “Some of them got uglier after day three. More possessive than worried.”
“Possessive how?” Odin asks.
Milo pulls out his phone and taps until the clone of Brock’s cell fills the screen and scrolls.
“Direct quotes? ‘You don’t get to disappear on me.’ ‘I know what you promised.’ ‘If you’re fucking someone else, I’ll burn your life down.
’ Then the classic, ‘Call me or I’ll start escalating, and you know what that means. ’”
That lands.
Holden leans forward, forearms on his thighs. “Isn’t that the one he sent while we were at Pinecrest?”
“Yeah. And your ‘go find another dick to suck’ response didn’t go down well. So thanks for that.”
“Bite me,” Holden says.
“Pass,” Milo shoots back. “You’re all starch and repression.”
Odin ignores both of them. “The phone.”
Milo passes over his cell. Odin reads in silence for a full minute, thumb moving. The room stills around him. Even Milo shuts up.
Finally, Odin hands it back.
“That’s not a spurned fling,” he says.
My shoulders tighten. “You think Stephen’s our guy?”
“I think Stephen belongs in the center of the board, not the margins.” He sets the empty espresso cup down on the side table with a soft click.
“Possessive language. Implied leverage. Escalation without concern for welfare. He’s not asking whether Brock is alive.
He’s furious Brock has become unavailable. ”
“Did anything flag during the initial deep dive into Brock’s life?” Holden asks. “Our brief didn’t note romantic partners to watch out for.”
“You’re right,” Odin says, shifting his attention to Holden. “We didn’t include everything we knew about him in the execution file. Perhaps we should have. But we didn’t feel it was necessary information for the task.”
“What are you saying?” I ask.
Odin’s eyes swing to me. “We were aware that Brock was closeted. Violently closeted. His self-hatred was core to his pathology—it’s why he targeted women. He hated himself for not wanting them.”
For a second, nobody says a damn thing. We’re all too busy processing.
I hear my own voice before I feel ready to use it. “Why the fuck wasn’t that in the file?”
Odin doesn’t flinch. “Because his sexuality wasn’t the target criterion. His violence against women was. The file gave you what was operationally relevant.”
“It’s operationally relevant now,” Holden says, flat.
“Yes,” Odin agrees. “Now it is.”
Milo lets out a humorless laugh. “Cool. Great. Love that for us. So our dead rapist had a secret boyfriend with a temper and implied blackmail and we all just—what? Didn’t get to know because it wasn’t relevant until there was a fucking rope hanging over Sage’s head?
We would have treated these texts way more seriously. ”
“Milo,” Micah says quietly.
“No, I’d actually love to know why the fuck that was withheld,” Milo finishes, voice sharp enough to draw blood.
Odin looks at him coolly. “Because operational compartmentalization keeps people alive.”
“Except Sage just got a noose party favor in her apartment, so forgive me if I’m not thrilled with the current system.”
“Milo.” My tone cuts harder this time.
He throws his hands up. “What? I’m right.”
He is. That’s part of the problem.
Odin folds his hands over one knee. “You are right to be angry. But anger is only useful if it sharpens thought. Use it well.”
Milo glares. Says nothing.
I drag a hand over my mouth and force my voice back under control. “What else do you know about Stephen?”
“Less than you do,” Odin says. “Fenrir wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t getting anywhere.
Brock was careful. More careful than most men who think they’re untouchable.
Separate apps. Burner habits. Restricted visibility.
We flagged indications of same-sex activity, not a stable identity.
It looked transactional in parts. Hidden. Stephen seems even more careful.”
“So now what?” I ask. “If it’s Stephen making threats and none of us can work out who he is, what course of action do we have?”
Odin exhales. “I’ll put more people on it.
Full background—Stephen, Tyler, anyone from Brock’s life worth looking at.
Phone records, financials, social media, the works.
If this Stephen exists in any meaningful way, we’ll find him.
” He looks at Holden. “You said you’d push Sage harder on the party.
Do it today. Names, faces, conversations she didn’t think mattered.
People remember more than they realize when you ask the right questions. ”
“Understood,” Holden says.
“And the surveillance on her continues?”
“Around the clock,” I say. “She’s staying at Holden’s. One of us is always with her.”
“Good. Keep it tight. No blind spots.” Odin stands, buttoning his jacket.
“One more thing. Whoever did this wasn’t just threatening the girl.
They were speaking our language. Whether that’s intentional or coincidence, it means someone is paying attention.
To her. Possibly to all of you.” His gaze sweeps the room.
“Act accordingly, gentlemen. I fear you’re being watched. ”
He moves toward the door, and I stand before he gets there.
“Odin.”
He stops and turns.
“I’d like to speak with you,” I say. “Alone.”
He nods, and the others pile out of the room. Even Knox, who lingers a fraction longer, like maybe he thinks I need a witness. Finally, the door closes and it’s just us.
Odin doesn’t sit back down. He stands across from me, a posture so neutral it’s almost an invitation to confess. His eyes find mine, unwavering.
“What’s on your mind, Eli?”
I look at the floor for a moment, not sure how to start. The words burn the back of my throat. But I say them anyway, because I have to, because if we’re being hunted, this needs to be done.
“It’s about Sage.”