by RC Boldt
Either they knew too much or the pedo killer has struck again.
▶Anonymous 10:01:32 cf7508 >>No.158059>>No.158051
I fucking hope this badass knocked off those nasty fuckers. It’s about damn time.
▶Anonymous 10:19:26 0e32bd >> No.158060>>No.158059
Yeah, I agree. It was online on Channel 3’s site for about two seconds before it got deleted. Suspicious much?
▶Anonymous 10:22:37 4b51f7 >> No.158061>>No.158051>>No.158059>>No.158060
This dude got a twofer. Right on. Fuck these pedos!
Chapter 48
Kennedy
With the strap of my laptop bag slung securely over my shoulder, I haul ass along the sidewalk on my way to Chad’s office.
A few early morning joggers pass along with bleary-eyed people walking their dogs. Frigid gusts of November wind assault me, and I’m reminded how certain parts of this city resemble a brutal wind tunnel.
Not only that, but this morning, the city has eyes. I can feel them boring into me, and even through my surreptitious glances that find nothing and no one out of place, I know it’s not simply paranoia.
These eyes have been on me since I exited the Metro station and have tracked me for the past three blocks. It sets me on edge because I know there are only a few weeks until the pretrial, where we’ll present my findings. I plan to use that time to seek additional photographic evidence to make this as airtight as possible.
Chad coordinated an early morning meeting with his client, Jodi Carshedi. I need to ask a few clarifying questions that might not have been included in her prior statement. It’s not at all unlikely for a victim to recall a distinct memory or crucial detail after the fact.
With reluctance mainly attributed to my usual work preferences, I mentioned that Landon would accompany me, and Chad cleared it with the young girl. I’ve never witnessed Landon interact with young victims, so I’m prepared to jump in if he says or does anything suspect with her.
My heartbeat thuds loudly in my ears at the thought, my entire body tensing because there’s no way in hell I’ll allow him to terrorize her in any way. Fuck his FBI title and connection with the Vice President—I don’t give a shit. I won’t stand by and allow the poor girl to be interrogated and made to feel like any of it was her fault.
As if on cue, my mind reverts to what happened between us on Friday night. Warmth blooms on my cheeks, and my nipples tighten as if they, too, recall how good he made me feel.
Rapid footfalls head in my direction, coinciding with the other joggers. They don’t garner my sole attention, mainly due to my distracting thoughts pertaining to my current “partner.”
A heavy male body slams into my side, his hands gripping my bag, his voice saturated with pure venom. “Fuck you and your pics.” The intense emotion in his words is tangible even beneath the black bandana covering most of his face, while a beanie and the hood of his sweatshirt in the same color obstruct my view of his hair.
I realize how very wrong I was not to be more vigilant at every turn. But this motherfucker throws me for another loop when he presses his body against me, my laptop bag trapped between us, and it feels as if he’s attempting to grind his body on mine.
Goddamn pervert.
Curling my gloved fingers into fists, I stop resisting long enough to throw him off-kilter and land a solid uppercut. This sends him stumbling back in a grunt of pain, his hands flying to his face before he sprints away.
I glance around to discover no one is paying the least bit of attention. Either their eyes are glued to their phones, or they amble along with earbuds in, lost in their conversation and oblivious to what just occurred.
Smoothing a hand over my hair, I cast another cautious glance around before I ensure my bag’s securely strapped over my shoulder and continue toward the next block where Chad’s office sits.
Each step of the way, however, I can’t rid the feeling of those same eyes watching me and the man’s strange words.
Fuck you and your pics.
I arrive at the back entrance of Chad’s office with time to spare, and Sonya lets me inside quickly, shivering at the blast of cold air that follows me in.
“Brr.” She runs her hands up and down her arms after locking the door behind us. “It’s a chilly one today, isn’t it?”
“It sure is.”
“You can set up in this room again, if that’s okay with you.” Sonya turns on the lights in the small boardroom.
“That’s fine, thank you.”
“Chad’s running behind a little, but Jodi will be here shortly. And Agent Lattimer called to say he’d be here as soon as he could, but he had to help his mother with a flat tire.” Sonya’s eyes go glassy. “Such a good man,” she murmurs as she walks away.
Sliding my laptop from my bag, I set it on the large table and press the power button. While I wait for it to boot up, I remove my gloves and coat and drape them over the back of my chair before I sink into it.
Breathing a sigh of relief at the comforting tomb-like silence the room grants me, I withdraw my legal pad filled with my notes and a pen.
My heart stutters when I set eyes on my computer screen, its only accompaniment brief lines of text.
Primary hard disk drive not found
No bootable device(s) selected
Fuck me.
Chapter 49
Kennedy
My mind whirs, replaying what happened when that man ran into me. What he’d said. He hadn’t been humping me like a sexual deviant. No, he’d been carrying some sort of electromagnet to wipe my computer clean.
Whoever ran into me wanted to disrupt my work on this investigation. His words lead me to believe he knows about my discovery with the photo comparisons.
There are only a few possibilities as to how they know of what I determined on Friday.
When Chad was unavailable on Friday, I’d called him on Saturday morning when he was in his office, the workaholic he is. I’d informed him of everything then.
It’s possible his phone is bugged. As cynical as I tend to be, I don’t believe Chad’s in on this. Not with how hell-bent he is on getting justice for Jodi and bringing me on board.
It’s also possible that Landon leaked the information once we parted ways on Friday night. Rage blazes a searing path through me at the prospect of him betraying not only me but young Jodi, too.
Regardless of where the information breach began, it’s evident that these “higher-ups” are threatened. They fucked with me today, but now it’s my turn to fuck with them. Because where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and I’m well acquainted with how many “logs” are necessary to create one that flourishes.
They don’t realize I have much more to gain, whether through the legal system…or my own.
I quickly rummage through my bag and find the hardwire connection cord so I can tap into the office’s Internet this way. It’s a damn good thing I save everything on my computer in multiple locations where I can access them within a matter of minutes. Not only that, but I’m grateful I know how to work around this issue and still have a functioning laptop.
By the time I connect my computer to the small port in the wall, Sonya’s excited voice carries through the office.
“Good morning, Agent Lattimer!”
A huff of a tiny laugh nearly escapes me at the exuberant greeting.
Landon’s deep voice rumbles, sending a rush of shivers dancing over my body. “That’s, hands down, the best morning greeting I’ve had in a while.”
I can’t decipher her murmured response, but Landon chuckles and asks, “Can you tell me if Dr. Alexandre is already in?”
“Oh, yes,” Sonya breathes. “She’s in the first boardroom on your left.”
His footsteps draw closer until he stops in the doorway, giving me déjà vu from that very first time we met. Trademark smirk in place, he ambles inside, pulling the door closed behind him, and sets his briefcase on a chair.
For a breathless moment, I expect him t
o pull me close and press his lips to my neck. When he doesn’t, I tamp down the idiotic disappointment.
“Sorry I’m late. Mom had a flat tire, and I was closer than anyone else.”
Unfastening his coat and draping it over one seat, he pulls out his laptop and sets it up. Brown eyes slide to me, a flicker of heat dancing in the depths before it disappears. He settles in his chair. “How was your weekend?”
The intimate quality of his tone has something pinching in my chest, and I avert my eyes to my laptop screen.
“It was fi—”
“What the hell happened?” His eerily hushed tone stops me short. With an angry crease between his brows, he pins me with a thunderous expression.
I glance around and then down at myself, wondering what made him think something happened. “What are you talking about?”
Shooting up from his seat, he storms over and takes my left wrist in his. Shivers emanate from the contact, and I jerk back, instinctively frantic to sever the connection. But he hangs on, inspecting my hand before his eyes lock with mine.
Fury flames in the depths, and his mouth flattens into a hard line. “How’d your knuckles get like this?”
I glance at my hand, only now noticing my knuckles appear bruised and chafed. Shit.
Aiming a dark scowl at him, I tug on my hand, but he refuses to release me. “It’s a long story.”
His brows descend. “What do you mean?”
I still don’t know for certain that he’s to be trusted, but I need to see it for myself. To test him.
I tip my head, gesturing to my open laptop. “Check that out.”
I study him as he reads the text, and confusion bleeds into his expression. His reaction appears authentic and not at all fabricated, but I’m still wary of trusting him. He could very well be playing this off to appear innocent.
“I got accosted by a man on my way here. I thought he was some sort of pervert because he grabbed me and practically humped me and my laptop bag.
“He must’ve had an electromagnet or something of the sort that would do this. It happened so quickly.” Lattimer’s expression darkens like Poseidon’s wrath in the sea, but I continue. “I punched him, and he let go and ran off.”
His eyes narrow, raking over me from head to toe. “Are you okay? Were there any witnesses?”
I wave him off. “I’m fine.” Little does he know, I’ve endured much worse time and again. “And no, none that I’m aware of.”
“They wiped your computer?”
“It would seem that way.”
His gaze penetrates mine. “Did you back up what you had?”
Yes, of course. But should I tell him that? Is he asking out of true concern or because he’s in on this? Instead of answering outright, I hedge, “I always have my handwritten notes, at the very least.”
He finally releases my hand, brows knitted in concern. Shooting a hard glare at my laptop, he parts his lips, but I rush to interrupt him. “I could really use a coffee about now.”
A myriad of emotions flits across his face—confusion, irritation, concern, and something else. Something that has my defensive layers snapping firmly in place.
One edge of his lips quirks up. “Yeah? Well, I can do that.”
It shouldn’t make a damn bit of difference, but when a bit of that usual sparkle returns to his eyes, my body relaxes a fraction at the sight.
He tugs on his coat with rushed movements. “I’ll be right back.”
When he gets to the door, he shakes his head. Shoulders bunched tight, he looks like he’s gritting his perfect teeth. “I swear, if I’d been there when it happened, I would’ve—”
“Swooped in and saved the day?” I supply quickly, injecting levity into my words, hoping to alleviate some of the tension surrounding us.
His shoulders relax a fraction, and when his eyes collide with mine, I’m not prepared for the protectiveness they exude. Nor am I expecting the adamant declaration spoken in a steely tone with a dark edge I’ve never witnessed from him. “I would’ve done everything it took to protect you.”
He tugs open the door roughly and pulls it shut behind him, leaving me blanketed in silence and reeling from words that shouldn’t mean anything to me.
Yet they do.
Chapter 50
Landon
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
This serves as my mental chant on my walk to the coffee shop at the corner of Chad’s block. Hands fisted at my sides, my face hardens to stone as anger builds in me like mercury rising in a thermometer. I don’t realize it shows on my face until two power-walking women skitter to the far side to avoid me.
Christ’s sake. I scrub a hand down my face and focus on getting to the shop without scaring the shit out of anyone else.
Two storefronts away, my phone rings, and I realize I should’ve said something to Sonya on my way out to let her know I’d be back. Hell, I should’ve asked her what she’d like, but I wasn’t thinking straight. My brain is wholly centered on Kennedy dealing with some asshole who managed to wipe her computer.
My tension ebbs a fraction at how she bruised her knuckles punching him. Damn, she’s something else.
Drawing my phone from my pocket, I slow my pace and glance at the display. As soon as I see the number, I consider sending it to voicemail.
My thumb hovers over the Decline option, but before I can press it, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. An indescribable itch rises between my shoulder blades, and I raise my head, immediately surveying my surroundings.
Power-walkers, joggers, and people in suits rush along the sidewalk. Nothing appears out of place. I scan for any vehicles idling or appearing suspicious in any way and come up empty. But I can’t disregard my instinctive reaction. I may not be able to see the threat, but it’s around.
Raising my phone to my ear while keeping my head on a swivel, still scanning for anything out of place, I answer the call.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Landon.” The Vice President’s tone is curt, as if he’s short on time. When he forges right on, that’s confirmed. “I was expecting another update from you, son.”
His words hit and wedge deep, making me feel like I’m an unruly teen who found himself in a colossal mess all over again. I step to the side, edging closer to the nearby closed storefront, and stop.
“It’s been busy, and I didn’t want to bother you until I had—”
“I’m concerned that Dr. Alexandre may believe she has definitive evidence using photographs of the mayor’s hands.”
I peer out at passersby, attempting to suppress the frown that itches to emerge, and keep my face placid. All I mentioned before was photographs were being studied.
Conflict assaults me, and I struggle with what to say. “I don’t believe that’s the case any longer since it seems there was…a computer issue that recently arose.”
“Hmm.” A trace of smugness coats that one syllable. “That’s for the best, I suppose.” He rushes on to add, “My concern lies with both parties involved, of course. Not to mention, I’ve heard rumors circling about how the young girl isn’t quite as innocent as she claims to be.”
A brief pause follows his statement. “We’ve all seen how politicians tend to attract unfounded accusations.”
The evidence Kennedy found serves as irrefutable evidence I witnessed with my own eyes, but I tread carefully with my response and address only his latter statement. “Yes, sir. That’s true.”
“Well, then, I’ll let you be on your way. Be sure to keep me better apprised of things, although I suspect the investigation will dissolve soon.”
His words have me on edge, and I somehow manage to force out, “Yes, sir.”
It’s possible he hears the tense quality in my voice because his tone turns less harsh and impersonal. “We’ll talk soon, son.”
“Yes, sir.”
Once he ends the call, I lower the phone slowly and stuff it in my pocket. My mind races, recapping everyth
ing that was just said.
None of it sits right with me. It reminds me of the Jenga game I’d play as a kid. When too many of the necessary pieces are moved, it disrupts the foundation. Everything wobbles precariously and leads to its collapse.
I always keep my body strong and fit so I can be the best at my job. I’ve kept my reflexes sharp like my mind, but now… Now, I’m questioning everything.
I’d be stupid not to. But I also feel like I’m betraying him by doing so. A man who went above and beyond to help me when the choices I made not only kicked me straight in the teeth but pummeled me in the gut, too.
A man who prided himself on his morals and tried to guide others to operate similarly.
The waters become murkier the longer I stay on board with this investigation, making it more treacherous to navigate.
Somehow, someway, I need to determine who’s giving me accurate directions.
Chapter 51
Kennedy
Lattimer has been gone a mere ten minutes, and I’ve been striving to work my magic on my computer when Sonya stops in the open doorway.
“Dr. Alexandre? Jodi Carshedi just arrived with her parents.” Her voice is hushed. “Chad’s speaking with them right now but said he’ll send her over to you afterward.”
“Thank you, Sonya.”
As soon as she leaves, I get back to work on recovering everything I set up to save to my special cloud drive that’s the least hackable. It’s secure enough that if someone gets ballsy to attempt at hacking into it, I’ll be alerted to it.
A rush of relief sweeps through me at the sight of my most recent saved documents, and I praise myself for being obsessive about saving items periodically as I work.
“Looks like you have good news.”
My head jerks up in surprise at Landon’s quiet remark. I find him watching me, his broad shoulders filling the doorway as he holds three to-go coffee cups in a carrier. His brows are furrowed like he’s troubled by something, and my first instinct is to ease his worry.
