Chapter 35
A Fucking Ghost
CORMAC
Scaling a decorative trellis full of roses isn’t exactly what I had hoped to be doing tonight.
Easy breaking and entering, my ass.
Fortunately, it’s pitch black out here, so no one can see when my feet or hands slip a couple of times on the way up.
The innate knowledge that the upper windows won’t be locked is unnerving. Everyone locks the ground-floor ones, but people, especially wealthy people, think they’re untouchable enough that being 30 feet from the ground is enough security against someone getting in.
It probably usually is, but usually doesn’t really apply to me.
“How’s it going, bat man?” Skyler’s voice interrupts my thoughts through the earpiece.
I grunt, “It’s going.”
“Can’t believe you’re not even inside yet,” he chuckles. “You’ve lost your touch.”
My eyes roll. No fucking shit, I’ve lost my touch. I’ve also lost all the years of learning how to do this.
“Can you give me any kind of direction on where to go once I get inside?” I ask, not engaging with his childish taunting.
He breathes out heavily, “You’ll be climbing in a guest bedroom window on the third floor, and it looks like the library is on the main level so head down the hallway to the left, you’ll find a staircase.”
“Library?”
“Yeah,” he pauses. “Hmm.”
“What hmm?” I ask.
“Nothing,” I hear the ceaseless typing of his laptop. “Yeah, on the official blueprint it’s classified as a library, not an office.”
Finally, climbing over the tiny balcony-type thing, I use my knife to flick open the latch of the strange accordion-like window, silently slipping through the small opening.
It’s even darker in here than outside, and I can’t help but wonder how the fuck I used to do this all the time. I’m going to trip over something and wake them up.
Leaning into instinct, I stay against the wall, feeling my way along it with both my hand and foot, gently pressing forward, around what must be a dresser, then finding a corner and continuing to follow the path around the edge of the room until I reach a door.
Flattened against the wall, I gently twist the handle and pull the door open, counting to 10 in my head before moving again in case the small squeak of the hinges did wake someone.
Little taps and dings from Skyler’s phone center me, keeping me connected to my friend outside even when he’s silent.
Keeping the same strategy, I slip into the hallway, hug the wall, and take light, quick steps until I reach the stairs.
Down the 24 steps, I whisper to Sky, “I’m at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Walk straight ahead about 8 paces, then the door to the library will be on your right,” he instructs, and I follow.
The office door is cracked, making it easy to slip right in without even a click of the handle.
Through the headpiece, I hear his phone ring for a split second before Skyler silences it.
“What was that?” I whisper.
“Where are you?”
“Just inside the library,” I explain. “Against the wall next to the door.”
“You need to get out of there. Now.”
“What? Why?” I remain completely frozen in place, considering how hard it would be to do so. There are windows in here, so I wouldn’t need to go back the way I came. I could be outside in less than 20 seconds.
“Brigit found how all of it’s connected,” he explains, typing rapidly on his computer. “Steele and Foley and the Morrison guy. You nee—
The earpiece crackles, then goes silent, and my heart stops beating.
I’m completely blind in here.
After a few deep breaths, I make my move, sliding along the walls and walls of bookshelves, gently stepping around the large, ornate displays of antiques barely visible in the low light of the moon through the windows.
“Wow,” a sarcastic voice fills the quiet room. “They weren’t kidding. You do move like a fucking ghost.”
I don’t say anything, waiting for them to continue. If this person knows who I am, they’ve been expecting me, and this is a setup.
A lamp in the far corner flicks on, illuminating a man I don’t recognize sitting in a chair beneath it. Dark brown hair sitting on the collar of his exorbitantly ridiculous sweater. It’s a bit dark to tell, but from here, it looks like his eyes are either blue or green.
Doesn’t matter. They’ll be closed permanently soon.
I don’t say anything or move, staring silently back at the man, mentally cataloguing everything about him that could be a weakness or advantage. The Glock sitting on his lap certainly doesn’t help my situation, but he can’t be the first person to point one at me over the years.
“Do we know each other?” I ask, glancing again at the gun sitting on his thigh, half expecting him to start petting it like the villain would a cat in a cheesy spy movie.
His eyes narrow, and the smile drops, “You really don’t remember.”
I scoff, “I don’t know why people keep being surprised by that.”
“Well,” he barks out a horrid laugh. “Let me clear it up for you. I’m the guy whose fucking life you ruined.”
One of many, I’m sure.
“That doesn’t sound like me,” I poke at him.
“No?” his teeth grind together. “You know, it’s a lot less fucking fun finally getting my revenge when you don’t even know what it’s for.”
“If you’re the one who nearly beat me to death, some would argue that’s revenge enough,” I shrug, leaning against the wall behind me. Surely Skyler has some kind of plan in place for when shit like this happens. He said Leo and Tate were down the road.
A single dark laugh slips from his mouth as he stands, walking to turn on the overhead light.
The brightness hurts my eyes, but I don’t dare close or squint them, not when someone with a grudge has a gun in their hand.
I have one tucked into my waistband, but unless something distracts him, I don’t think I’ll be able to get it before he can pull the trigger.
“You have no fucking clue, do you?” he laughs at me through gritted teeth, his amusement tainted with a rage that makes it all the more sinister. “I didn’t touch you. Didn’t have to. Steele was all too happy to do it after you assholes almost got us killed for failing to deliver product.”
With an eye twitch, he steps forward, and I inch closer to the window. I’m already caught, already have a weapon pointed at me. A shattered window would be the least of my concerns as long as it gets me the fuck out of here.
“You cost me millions and half of my distributors,” his eyes are crazed, furious.
Flitting through the random bits of information I’ve learned since getting home and the small, seemingly unimportant details from my time in the hospital, I try to piece together what the fuck happened to bring us here.
That’s the robbery gone wrong that the cop asked me about in the hospital. The one Sky mentioned offhand weeks ago.
Morrison and Steele set the whole thing up.
And when we derailed it, he pivoted, taking credit for the bust instead.
I shrug, trying to steal some of Skyler’s nonchalance, “You don’t seem to be hurting for money, Mr. Morrison.” I gesture around the opulent room.
His eyes narrow, “So you do remember.”
I feed him the same lie I did Steele, “It comes in bits and pieces.” Letting them believe I’m completely clueless won’t do me any favors.
If I can at least pretend to be competent, it might give me a fighting chance.
“So you’re telling me that there were two of you, and you still had to attack me from behind like a couple of fucking cowards?
Too chicken shit to face me like a man. You can’t even hold that gun without shaking.
No wonder your old man didn’t want you to take over.
Bet you attacked him from behind like a coward too. ”
Maybe baiting him into attacking isn’t my best idea, but if he’s angry enough, he won’t be thinking straight.
His lip curls, “He deserved it.”
“Sure,” my head tilts, the predator under my skin finally feeling more at home. Here, in the face of certain death, either mine or his, something wicked in my soul stirs, and I grin, all teeth and condescension. “And I’d bet good money you only got away with it because of Steele.”
His momentary pause is all the answer I need.
“So he owns your ass,” I chuckle, hanging my head.
“Ben has dirt on half the criminals in the city,” he mutters. “I’m hardly the only one doing his fucking bidding. I mean, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
He’s not wrong.
“So why go after Brigit? She has no part in any of this.” Vengeful, furious ice bleeds into my tone, and he takes it for the threat that it is.
All the color fades from his face. Before he even answers, I can see the lie on his tongue. “That was Steele’s idea.”
“Yeah?” I raise a brow, wishing he would get within striking range so I can fucking end this. All I need is two seconds to have my knife buried in his throat.
“It wasn’t personal,” he offers up like it matters.
“You were supposed to die. You were supposed to be dead and Steele was going to discover everything in your house linking you and your partner to the murders. But then neither of those things happened and I had to improvise. We hoped just threatening her would draw you out but it didn’t, we tried tipping off the media so you’d do something crazy and get locked back up, Steele has been trying to bait you into coming here so I can end this for weeks.
Nothing else was working, so we did what was necessary. ”
I stop the heavy, furious breath that threatens to escape at his slip of the tongue. He had to improvise.
“Why Foley? You’re too cowardly to do your own dirty work?” I pry.
Before he can answer, his doorbell rings.
He jumps, and my brows furrow, “Expecting company?”
“Only you,” he responds with a cruel smile.
“Jesse Morrison,” Someone yells from the front door before ringing the bell again. “Mr. Morrison, it’s the police. Detective Benjamin Steele requested back up to this location.”
“Steele?” he mutters to himself, only looking toward the front of the house for a second, peeking out the window.
But that second is more than enough time.