Facade (Billionaire in Disguise 1)

“What do you think?”

“I think I have a lot of information that points to a conclusion you don’t like. But I still need those camera feeds. All of them, if we can swing it. But this does prove that your enemy’s reach is limited. They couldn’t get to you in Vegas, so they did something to lure you back here. That is helpful, even though Jacob’s in the hospital.”

“So, are we still looking at a group?” he asked.

“Probably not. A group would be more likely to fan out because they would see their strength in numbers. We’re more than likely looking at an individual. I need to get to your office and check out those feeds. I’m leaving John here just in case, but you need to let someone know that I’m coming by and that I’ll need access to them.”

“Why is my personal assistant going to need access to the camera feeds?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Spin another web and get me in to view them.”

Thirty minutes later and a few well-placed phone calls got me in front of those camera feeds. I had no idea what Derek told his staff, and I didn’t care. I was viewing them from his office, watching the television screens on his computer as my eyes darted around the screen. No one suspicious looking came into the building itself, but the attack had happened in a blind spot. Despite the numerous cameras that lined that fucking garage, they’d found the one spot that was shadowed and out of reach.

Just more circumstantial evidence that this was someone who worked for the company.

If the assailant had knowledge of this place and its cameras, then a blind spot was easy to find. Depending on the lengths the person wanted to go to, they could’ve filtered in cars and parked them in empty spaces just to force Jacob into the parking space he took. This person had placed a letter on Derek’s fucking bed.

In my eyes, they were capable of maneuvering whatever they had to in order to make things a reality.

I picked up my phone and called John at the hospital. I got an update on Jacob and asked about Derek. He was still there, sitting and shooting the shit with his friend, being guilty and unproductive as I tried to track down who the fuck was doing this.

“Need anything from me?” John asked.

“Yes, but don’t give off the fact that it’s me,” I said.

“Read you loud and clear, sir,” John said.

“Did anyone suspicious come into the building today? Anyone unauthorized? Or a third-party contractor for some sort of work?”

“No, sir.”

“So, the attack and the suspect was localized to the parking garage.”

“Far as I can tell, sir.”

“I’m going to rattle off some spaces. I want to know where you were during the attack. Lounge?” I asked.

“No.”

“Lobby?”

“Nope.”

“Bathroom?”

“Not quite.”

“Damn it, John. Are you fucking one of the secretaries?” I asked. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. Jacob’s office? Were you waiting for Jacob to get into work?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need to know how you knew about the attack. Text it to me. Now, repeat after me. ‘I’ll let him know, sir. Thank you.’ Then tell Derek and John the investigative team has reviewed the footage and the attack happened in a blind spot. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

We hung up the phone, and I leaned back in Derek’s office chair. Fuck. I felt like the answer was staring me right in the face. I had all these moving pieces and loose ends, and all it took was one variable to tie them all up.

But that variable had a big ass question mark on top of it.