Chapter 5
Jamie: Can’t wait.
Jamie
I pin another photo to the giant cork board we’ve set up on one wall of our office, then step back to study the mosaic of faces. Each one is a tenant from the Crystal Heights building that Ethan Kane is going to demolish, and they’re all potential suspects who might want to kill him.
Dani’s been adding essential facts about each person to the bottom of each photo. Now she’s helping me sort them into rows, trying to whittle down our suspect list.
"What about her?" Dani paces over to the board and taps on a photo of an elderly woman with white, messy hair and a stern glint in her eye. "Mrs. Peterson. Living in the building for thirty years. We can’t rule her out, can we?"
I squint past Dani at the facts listed below Mrs. Peterson’s name. "She's eighty-four," I say doubtfully.
Kayla glances up from her keyboard. She’s working on a different job but doesn’t have her headphones on. "Age doesn't rule anyone out,” she says. “Remember that case last month? The grandmother who was cyberstalking her ex-son-in-law?"
"True." I lean against my desk, crossing my arms. "But it’s hard to imagine her sneaking to Ethan’s building in the middle of the night to deliver a death threat."
“Let’s keep her in the maybe column,” Dani suggests. “But I still think it’s got to be the guy in 5F.”
I nod. “He’s our mostly likely suspect.” Turning to Kayla, I ask, “Have you had time to get that background information on Ethan Kane?”
“Not yet.” She spares me a quick glance, then her focus goes back to her screen. “I need to deal with this system breach first.”
Kayla and Dani have been working with a new client to help them recover from the theft of some sensitive data.
Kayla’s good at all the technical stuff.
And Scarlet would usually have been the one to handle an upgrade of their security system, but she’s still snorkeling in Bora Bora or whatever, so Dani’s learning on the job.
As for me, I’m stuck between office duty and figuring out who might be threatening Ethan, and I’d much rather be out in the field.
My phone rings and I step over to where I left it on my desk so I can see the screen. Unknown number. That means it could be my father. I keep blocking his number and he keeps getting new ones. I press the button to send it to voicemail, then turn to see Kayla lifting her brows at me.
“That wasn’t him, was it?” she asks.
Ever since my father’s most recent prison stint ended, we’ve all been expecting him to show up. I’ve told him to stay away, and Uncle Vito told him too, but I should never have given him money the last time.
Before I can answer her, the bell above our door chimes.
We all turn to see a woman enter, her glossy black bob swinging.
She’s wearing a crisp navy suit, with a skirt that finishes mid-calf and a fitted jacket that’s belted tightly around her narrow waist. Even with her very high heels on, the top of her head only comes up to my chest.
Rachel Ward. The Demolition Man’s assistant.
She’s the one who turned up to tell me my training session with her boss was cancelled.
She delivered the message in a tone that was cold and distant, perfectly matching her appearance.
Something about her niggles at my brain.
She’s beautiful, with fine features, and she reminds me of someone, but I can’t think who. The sensation is unsettling.
"Ms. Jennings,” she says with a stiff nod. “Mr. Kane asked me to stop by.”
I gesture toward the cork board. “You can tell him we’re reviewing potential suspects."
Rachel's scans the photos with clinical detachment. "Have you considered that the person you’re looking for might not be a tenant?"
I raise my eyebrows. “Sure, but your boss said to start with the Crystal Heights building. You know who else it could be?”
“Business rivals. Former associates. Romantic partners.” Rachel counts the possibilities off her manicured fingers. “I’ll compile a list.”
“We’re going to need a bigger cork board,” I mutter.
“Make sure you add Miles Marzoni. He’s a property developer as well, and he’s bid against Mr. Kane on several projects. The two of them hate each other.”
“Marzoni Industries?” Kayla asks.
“That’s him.” Rachel turns her cool gaze on my friend. “Mr. Kane doesn’t care if he makes enemies, but his feud with Miles Marzoni is particularly vicious.”
I heave an internal sigh. The more we learn, the harder the job seems, and the more I dislike the Demolition Man.
Maybe I should just kill him myself. It would be easier than narrowing our field of suspects.
“What about you?” Kayla asks Rachel, her tone mild but her eyes sharp. “Do you want your boss dead?”
“No!” For the first time, emotion sweeps across Rachel’s face.
She looks offended, presumably because Kayla’s considering her for our suspect board.
Then she schools her expression. “No,” she repeats with a firm head shake.
“I’ve worked for Mr. Kane for almost three years.
It’s not always easy, but I value my job. ”
“Okay.” Kayla offers her a bright smile. “Well, I had to ask.”
Rachel’s lips tighten, and she looks decidedly unimpressed. Turning to me, she sets a thick manila envelope on my desk. “Mr. Kane would like you to sign this contract. It includes a non-disclosure agreement.”
I eye the envelope, inwardly groaning. Contracts freak me out. Way too many words.
“Have you set a date for the fight?” Rachel asks, pulling out her phone.
“Um.” I gaze at the ceiling, thinking hard.
“I don’t know. The sooner the better, I guess.
But I need to sell the tickets and also see if we can sell drinks.
” I drop my gaze to Kayla, giving her a helpless look and hoping she’ll jump in and save me.
“Actually, there’s a lot to do, and I’m not even sure where to start. ”
Rachel taps her phone screen. “I’ll give you a list of dates for the fight that fit with Mr. Kane’s calendar.
You’ll need six weeks to get everything organized, so let’s start there.
” My phone dings with a notification that she’s sent the dates to me, but she’s not finished.
“Mr. Kane has scheduled your first boxing training session for six o’clock tomorrow morning. He’ll meet you in his gym.”
I frown, irritated by his assumption that I’ll be free. And even more irritated by the fact that I am.
“Will he bother to show up this time?” I try not to sound snarky and fail spectacularly.
“Of course.” Her cool tone doesn’t change.
“He wants you to train him three mornings a week from now until the fight. I’ll also forward you the schedule of events you’ll be attending with him.
The first will be a ball on Friday night.
It’s a fundraiser for a charity. I’ll have a car pick you up on Thursday at three for a dress fitting, and you’ll have a large selection of designer gowns to choose from. ”
“Ugh,” I mutter, my stomach sinking.
“Awesome!” Dani yelps at the same time, drowning out my sound of dismay. "Oh my God, Jamie, a designer gown! You’ll need some fabulous shoes to go with it. You should get your nails done, and your hair?—”
“No to all of that.” I squeeze my fists, fighting a strong urge to go to the training room so I can punch something.
But Dani's practically vibrating with excitement. “We can go to the fitting with you! It’ll be so much fun!"
“Not if it’s on Thursday,” Kayla says. “Sorry, Dani. We’ll be too busy at the client site.”
“I don’t want a dress fitting,” I tell Rachel flatly.
“It’s already arranged.” Extending one long finger, she taps the envelope. “The contract lays out your obligations.”
Rachel's phone buzzes, and she swipes her screen to read something. Watching her, that niggling feeling intensifies. There’s something about the stiff way she holds herself that reminds me of someone. Who is it?
She looks up. "I'm needed at the office. Please select a date for the fight by the end of business today so I can be sure it aligns with Mr. Kane’s schedule. And return the signed contract at the same time. We can’t proceed until that’s done.”
The bell chimes as she exits, leaving a chill in her wake.
"Well, she's terrifying," Kayla says. “You know who she reminds me of? That replicant from Blade Runner. The replicant was called Rachel as well, and she looks like the actress who played her.”
“Oh my God!” I exclaim. “It was bugging me, and I couldn’t think who it was. Rachel the Replicant… of course!”
Dropping into my chair, I grab the envelope she left for me.
Then I pull out a stack of papers so thick that a rush of sickening dread washes through me, sending my stomach roiling.
Suddenly, I’m glad to be sitting down. “This has to be fifty pages long,” I say with a groan.
The words swim on the page. I’ll never be able to make sense of it.
Kayla steps forward, offering her hand. “I’ll take a look.”
I hand it over with relief, and she scans it.
"Jamie.” She looks up at me, frowning. “This is extensive. Sign this non-disclosure agreement, and you’ll never be able to say a word about a single thing that happens while you’re on this job. No social media, either. It covers everything.”
"Whatever. Where do I sign?" I grab a pen, eager to get it over with so I can give the contract back to Rachel and never have to think about it again.
Her frown deepens. “Don't you want to read it first?"
"I trust you. If you say it's okay, it's okay."
Kayla winces. "Jamie..." She trails off, because she knows why I don't want to read it myself.
"Just tell me where to sign."
She sighs. “Rachel’s already marked all the places to sign with sticky notes.”
She hands it to me, and I look for all the notes. Rachel has written ‘Sign Here’ or ‘Date Here’ in incredibly neat, perfect letters, and I scrawl my messy signature and put wobbly dates where she’s indicated, hating the way my handwriting looks like a five-year-old’s next to hers.
"Okay!" Dani claps her hands. "Now can we talk about the fundraising ball? When was the last time you even wore a dress?"
"Never," I mutter, signing the final page. "And I'm not starting now."
"You have to! It's a black-tie event. You can't show up in cargo pants and a sports bra."
I drop the pen on the contract, utterly fed up with all the things Ethan Kane is trying to force on me. “I don’t need to dress up and discover my pretty side to do my job,” I growl. “I’m more Rambo than rainbows. And I’m happy the way I am. Nobody’s going to Cinder-fucking-rella me.”
Kayla lifts her eyebrows. “You helped Scarlet get dressed up when she was working with Balthazar.”
“Yeah, but I hate wearing dresses. I don’t care how I look, I care how uncomfortable I feel.”
“You could find something badass to wear,” Dani suggests. "Like, sexy assassin vibes.”
I wrinkle my nose, surging to my feet. Now I really need to punch something. “I’m going to the training room.”
“You can’t.” Kayla gives me a sympathetic look. “Our client’s waiting, and Dani and I need to get over there. Which leaves you in charge of the office." When I groan, she adds, "Try not to terrorize any clients while we're gone."
“No promises,” I mutter darkly, dropping reluctantly back into my chair.
They gather their things to head out. They’re both wearing our new work t-shirts with Street Smart Security printed across the front, and Dani puts on her overstuffed backpack again.
The office feels empty without them, and I turn back to the photographs of our current suspects to study their faces.
There are a lot of photos. Rachel said Ethan doesn’t care how many enemies he makes, so the number probably isn’t surprising.
And if he tries to make me wear some kind of fancy gown to his stupid fundraising ball, he can add one more enemy to his list.