5. The Phantom
The Phantom
Chapter 5
The night swallowed the sound of Caroline's car engine as she disappeared around the bend, leaving me alone in the darkened street. I stayed outside the hotel for a moment, breathing in the pine-scented air. It was so much colder in the mountains after dark—lonelier—when there was no one around but the stars. Unlike in the city, the quiet night was eerie, especially with how the mist curled its way around the tree roots and headstones of the cemetery a few blocks away. A shiver raced through me that had nothing to do with the cold, sending me retreating into my hotel room.
Once I was inside, I sat on the edge of the bed, taking off my glasses and rubbing my fingers over my eyes. Caroline's face haunted the shadows of the room—just the thought of how widowhood must press down on her every day, how devastating it must be. Still, there was such resilience in her eyes. Being a widow may have fractured her, but being a mother clearly kept her whole. And Evie… Her snaggle-toothed smile was a reminder of how life persisted amidst the cruel grip of cancer, and just looking at her could make your soul smile. They were both so fucking strong, and it was truly awe-inspiring.
Grief knotted in my chest as I thought of Daniel's untimely departure from the world, leaving Caroline and Evie to navigate their complicated life without him. It was a familiar ache, one that mirrored the emptiness in my own life, although my parents had been gone for a long time. The loss of someone who meant the world to you was not something you could ever truly get over.
Running my hand through my hair, I sighed and slid my glasses back on. The silence was heavy, charged with my obligations to Ethan and his family. His trust was a sacred thing, and I could not let him down. I had promised him that I would help to keep them safe, and now my mind was in complete turmoil about how to do it. My skill set allowed me to hack systems—to lay the secrets of the dark web bare and bring powerful people to their knees—but there was no firewall against the unpredictability of the mob's vengeance. The very idea of guaranteeing anyone's safety against them felt like trying to hold smoke—slippery, elusive, impossible. The Barrilleaux family had become like my own family, their struggles woven with my own existence, but I did not know how to protect them when every shadow could be an enemy.
"Damn it," I muttered into the quiet room as I stood, my breath fogging the cool window as I stepped in front of it. The streetlight changed to green, but there were no cars at the intersection. Everyone had already gone home for the night, already tucked safely into their beds. Life went on for everyone else in the small town, not knowing the dangers that threatened the young family that had just opened the bookshop on Main Street. Until the case was settled, their lives would be clouded by uncertainty. Still, this family knit together by tragedy and a fiercely loyal love was not one to break easily. Their strength was something to be admired. So, even though tendrils of doubt crept through my mind and made my knees buckle, it was Ethan’s devotion to his family that hardened my resolve.
The bell above the door chimed softly as I stepped into the quaint little bookstore. The scent of old paper and ink mingled with the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. They did not have places like this in Atlanta—not anywhere near my apartment anyway. My eyes immediately met Caroline’s baby blues from across the room, where she was standing behind the machine used to make lattes. She smiled at me but turned away quickly, a pretty flush staining her cheeks as she returned to the task at hand. Glancing at where Ethan was still helping a customer, I headed toward the cafe counter to where Scarlett and Caroline were working, taking up the place from where the last customer vacated.
“Good morning, Scarlett…Caroline.”
Scarlett looked up at me, the warmth in her smile reflecting in her deep brown eyes. “Morning, Tristan. How’d you sleep?”
“Better than I expected,” I lied. My thoughts from the night before still lingered at the edge of my mind, but I pushed them down for the moment. “What about you?”
“Like a rock,” she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she grinned. “I think all that fresh mountain air wore me out.”
“Can’t argue with that.” From the corner of my eye, I stole a glance at Caroline, who was focused intently on her task of creating intricate patterns in the foam atop someone’s coffee. She was about to speak, but as in a twist of fate, a wayward plume of foamed milk erupted from the pitcher Caroline held, splattering across her apron, drawing all three of our attention. Her expression morphed into one of mild exasperation. I tried not to chuckle, but all five-foot-barely-anything of her was fucking adorable, so the smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
Reaching below the counter, Scarlett grabbed a rag and handed it to Caroline, who took it gladly, a flush crawling up her neck and to darken her cheeks as her eyes flicked to me. “Thanks.” With her attempts to clean herself failing, she headed toward the back of the store, untying her apron as she went. I shamelessly watched her walk away, taking in every charming inch of her—every nuance.
“Grab another apron from the back,” Scarlett said, turning her smile back to me, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Here you go. Try not to make any more messes. Are you heading back home today?”
“Hey, that wasn’t my fault!” A playful smirk tugged up the side of my lips as I took the mug of coffee, savoring the rich aroma. When I pulled the coffee away from my lips, I nodded. “Yeah. I need to get back home to my cat, but I’ll be back when the rest of the equipment is in.”
Scarlett smiled at someone behind me, and I turned to look over my shoulder as Ethan approached me from behind. “Well, when you come back next time, maybe you should bring your cat along. Evie would love that.”
“Tristan,” Ethan said, grabbing my attention. “I have something to give you in the office before you head out.”
Taking one more look in the direction Caroline disappeared in, I turned and followed Ethan toward the office at the back of the store. When we got there, he slid a built-in bookshelf to the side, revealing a safe behind it, opened it quickly and pulled out a small object: a thumb drive.
“Everything Scarlett’s father had on Victor’s gang is on here. Everything. I have copies of it as well, so you can take this one. Guard it with your life and do whatever you have to do with this information to keep my family—and yourself—safe.”
I nodded, my chest notably tight as I reached out and took the small black item out of his hand, sliding it into a zipped pocket of my laptop case. “I will start going over everything tonight and will let you know what I find.”
With one more look of understanding between us, we headed back toward the front counter, where Scarlett was still standing by the register, and Caroline had returned, her eyes flicking up to meet mine.
“Your help…it means more than you know,” Scarlett said, stepping around the counter to hug me.
When she finally let me go, I turned to Caroline, who stood a little apart, although her eyes seemed to miss nothing. “And you… keep being the rock star that you are and tell the little Captain that I will see her later, alligator.”
Caroline nodded, a sweet smile gracing her full lips. “Take care of yourself, Tristan. Hope to see you again soon.”
It was midday by the time I stepped back into my downtown Atlanta apartment, but with every shade pulled down behind black curtains, you could have sworn it was night. The click of the lock echoed, a sharp reminder of the solitude that awaited within its walls. But as I stepped further into the room, a sleek black shape unfurled from the corner of the gray sofa, reminding me I wasn’t alone after all.
“Houdini.” I smiled as my cat sauntered over, his tail high as he swirled around my legs, purring in welcome. Closing the door behind me, I dropped my bags to the ground and stooped over to scratch behind his ears. “I missed you too, buddy.”
"Come on," I murmured, watching the loading bar inch across the screen of my center monitor. After my long drive back to Atlanta, I'd fallen asleep on the couch with Houdini curled up on my lap, but with the sky outside now dark, I was anxious to give Ethan some sort of update.
First checking the tracking on the shipment of security hardware Ethan and I had ordered from his safe room, I was at least relieved most of it was enroute to his property. A fortress was only as strong as its weakest point, and I refused to let their defenses falter on my watch. I wasn't yet sure what dark tide was rising around them, but I needed them to be prepared to defend against it.
Perched beside me on the desk, Houdini's tail twitched as though he was just as impatient with me as I was. I reached across the desk, scratching behind his ear. "Alright, buddy. It's time to find some answers." Even with the gravity of the situation, I couldn't help but smile as he leaned into my touch.
The hum of the cooling fan blended with the distant sound of traffic outside my window as my fingers moved across the keyboard, Houdini settling in beside me. He was already snoring by the time I accessed the hidden forum known as “The Underbelly." It was a digital cesspool where criminals of all sorts gathered to exchange information, sell contraband, and plan things that would give most warm-blooded creatures nightmares. I'd stumbled into the forum purely by accident two years earlier when trying to keep a well-known state politician out of hot water for tax fraud and had been finding lots of useful information in there ever since.
Like a ghost, I passed right through layers of encryption, each one more complex than the last, hoping to find my way into the places where Victor Delacroix's remaining gang members lingered. With their leader dead and gone, however, there was a real chance they'd gone so far underground that I would not even be able to find them, but I wasn't ready to give up on myself just yet.
With my focus homed in on the task at hand, I sifted through the idle chatter and endless plotting for the rare kernels of truth to be found in such a place. Even after death, Victor Delacroix's name was a specter that loomed large in such circles—his gang’s tendrils entwined deep within the city's foundation for decades, and with his gang conducting illegal trading with entities both at home and abroad, it was not unheard of to find his name in channels from outside of New Orleans as well.
Prowling through posts and back channels, I hunted for anything that might shed light on the FBI's case against Victor’s gang, but it was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
And then there it was, stark against the dark background—a post from someone called ShadowRunner.
"Insider info on FBI's Delacroix case," read the title, and my pulse quickened. It wasn't just another breadcrumb. This promised to be the loaf. I’d already spent time going through the thumb drive Ethan had given to me, but I hadn’t found anything on there that would be of use just yet. I intended to dig further, but this was a real lead, or a very convenient ploy. It was clear ShadowRunner was speaking with the confidence of the truly knowledgeable, or the foolishly bold. Although the communication wasn't meant for me, but possibly for members of Delacroix's gang who were undoubtedly willing to pay for the information, I hijacked the communication under an alternate alias of Sentinel. My moniker of Phantom was me at my core—able to slip through the net of cyberspace unnoticed, untraceable—but even shadows feared exposure when they encountered something darker. I realized this ShadowRunner could be a beacon or a trap, but they were the only lead I had at the moment. Not knowing ShaddowRunner’s intentions, however, I didn’t want them to know my main alias.
"Need details on Etienne's part," I typed, my fingers almost betraying the urgency that clawed at my insides. "Time sensitive."
With a click, the message disappeared into the ether, and I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my eyes. I was already getting tired again. The cursor blinked on the screen, silently taunting me.
Refusing to let it win, I opened another tab. I'd gone through all the relevant news articles before, but just in case I’d missed something. I knew I was just distracting myself. Either way, I felt the need to read through them again.
Surprisingly, even looking a second and third time, I saw Scarlett’s father’s name in none of the articles about what happened in the distillery. If the feds knew about his involvement, they were keeping it close to the vest. The good thing was that, with Scarlett's father's name not being in the news in relation to Delacroix's death, neither was hers.
As I scrolled through the endless mentions of Victor Delacroix's death by every news channel south of the Mason-Dixon Line, a notification chimed from the other window I had left open in my browser—the chime cutting through the silence and causing Houdini to roll over from where he lounged across my desk.
Blowing out a breath, I flipped back to the other tab to see a message from ShadowRunner. A rush of adrenaline surged through me as I leaned forward in my chair, opening the correspondence. “Information comes at a price, Sentinel, but I trust you understand the stakes.”
I went quiet for a moment, understanding more about the stakes than even ShadowRunner did. What I didn't know was what he would want in exchange for the information—whether he was offering it up because he wanted to see the mobsters behind bars, or whether he wanted to see Scarlett’s father dead. At the end of the day, however, I wouldn’t know unless I bit.
"Speak," I typed back, the word concise and commanding even though my pulse hammered a frantic rhythm at my temples.
For several moments, I watched the flickering screen, hoping whatever he sent back was worth something.
Finally, after I thought he may have disappeared altogether, the message unfurled across the screen. "Ivy Etienne is under the watchful eye of the feds, and Delacroix's boys are more than aware. They're looking for him, but he's safe. For now. Witness protection until the trial sings its verdict—unless his enemies find him first.”