Page 18 of Vicious Deception
He forced them to watch, just like Jordan was planning on forcing them to watch you.
They went through an eternity of pain, and it’s all your fault.
Once I was finally able to drift off, I had an hour or two of fitful sleep before the nightmares kicked in. That seems to be the pattern my nights are falling into.
Thankfully, I haven’t woken up screaming my head off. I don’t want to scare Finn or Maggie, nor do I want Finn to feel like he has to comfort me. He’s already doing enough.
“Don’t forget to eat,” Finn mumbles as he shuts his laptop. “And wake me if you get an update from Sparrow.”
“Will do.”
Once Finn is upstairs, I go about making myself some coffee and a light breakfast. And by light breakfast, I mean a plain bagel that I can’t even bring myself to throw in the toaster. I nibble on it as I move the stuff I’ll need into the family room.
Finn may prefer working in the dining room, but there aren’t any windows in there, so I hate it. Before I settle in, I glance out into the backyard. Maggie is happily exploring, so she’ll be fine for now. I’ll check on her in a little bit.
Opening the laptop, I lower myself to the couch. I stare at the bagel, trying to coax myself to take another bite, but I can’t do it. The thought of eating in general makes me grimace.
At least drink your coffee.
With a sigh, I pick up the mug and stare at the liquid inside. Its aroma is sweet, and the color is a light brown. It looks the same as Oliver’s coffee whenever I make it for him. He takes a little more sugar than I do, but we both take the same amount of cream.
If you’d just been more careful, you could be in bed cuddling with him right now.
The thought stings, and when I shove it away, another springs up with double the force.
Stupid girl. You thought you could help them, and now look what you’ve done.
Apparently, while Finn and I were getting information out of one of my would-be kidnappers before I killed him, I zoned out for a few minutes. In that time, the man explained that the guys got caught because I was spotted entering Ludo’s office.
It’s all your fault.
My coffee burns as I take a large gulp. It has the desired effect, forcing my mind to focus on the physical pain instead of the barrage of cruel thoughts.
There. Now focus.
It takes me a minute to find the documents I downloaded from Holloway’s hard drive. There are so many of them, and quite a few have similar names, the only difference being a different month or year.
When I first learned of the hard drive, I wondered why Ludo kept evidence of his crimes at all. The moment I actually looked at what’s on it, though, it all clicked.
This shit iscomplicated.There’s no way he could remember this all in his head. If he doesn’t have a way to keep track of where all his money and product goes, he’s bound to make mistakes—or get ripped off unknowingly.
Or,I think as I find the records I want and check the numbers again,forget just how much he’s ripping off others.
By itself, the document in front of me doesn’t mean much. It’s a fairly simple report on money in and money out for a specific trade that happens once a month.
It seems that, for this particular portion of Holloway’s business, he’s in with two other men—Raymond King and Fredrick Burbank. They seem to be suppliers, and Ludo seems to be the middleman. A distributor of sorts who then splits his earnings with the other two men.
For what, I’m not sure—drugs, probably? Maybe weapons? But at the moment, that’s not what I care about. The important thing is the numbers.
They just aren’t adding up.
I do a little more digging and find the agreement between Holloway, King, and Burbank. They’re supposed to split the money evenly between the three of them, but looking at the reports, that’s not what Ludo is doing.
Again, doubt trickles through my consciousness. Am I doing the math wrong? Are there expenses that are accounted for elsewhere? Maybe I’m not understanding the agreement?
I wish Ell was here.
Fuck. Don’t think about him.