Page 63 of Dial L for Lawyer
He finally lifts his head, eyes bloodshot from too many late nights. "The badge timestamps aren't altered. So someone was physically there each time the breaches happened."
"Someone cloned her badge," I say, stating the obvious. "Meaning we need the building's footage to see who was actually using it."
"Exactly." He frowns at his screen. "Problem is, their security company just upgraded to some new encrypted system. My usual backdoors aren't working."
"Since when can't you hack anything?"
"Since they started using military-grade encryption for a fucking office building." He opens the Red Bull. "I'll get it, but it's going to take time."
"That's not like you."
"Yeah, well, whoever set up their new system actually knew what they were doing. It's annoying." He glances at the closed bathroom door. "How's she holding up?"
"She's..." I consider my words. "Frustrated. Angry. Trying not to show how scared she is."
"You really think someone on her team did this?"
"Has to be. The timing's too perfect, the access too specific. Someone who knew her schedule, her passwords, her habits. David mentioned it was a call made from C-suite that claimed they saw her with Chase. So either we have an exec and a team member in cahoots. Or we have a team member who’s willing to clone badges and make anonymous calls from executive offices to cover their tracks."
Logan takes a long pull of his Red Bull. "My money's on the team member. An exec wouldn't risk getting their hands dirty with a physical badge clone. They'd hire someone. This feels personal.”
Personal. The word detonates inside me like a live charge. Someone out there hates Serena enough to want to erase her—and that makes it war. I don’t just want a name. I want a target. I want to grind their life down to dust until the only thing left is their screaming regret for ever touching what’s mine.
The bathroom door clicks open. Serena steps out, looking flushed and impossibly beautiful in that blue dress. She’s reapplied her lipstick. The slight flush on her cheeks is the only evidence of what we did in the conference room. She looks between us. "Why do you both look so serious?"
"Logan's having trouble with the building's security footage," I explain.
"I'll figure it out," Logan insists, hunching toward his screen.
Serena comes closer. "How did your meeting go?"
"They wanted to discuss risk strategy for two hours." I hand her the glass I just poured. "I gave him forty-seven minutes of half-attention and charged him for the full hour."
"That seems unethical." She takes a sip, her lipstick leaving a mark on the rim that I'm definitely going to think about later.
"That seems like a Tuesday. He'll get better service when his case doesn't bore me to death."
Logan makes a gagging noise. "You two are disgusting."
"You're just jealous," I say, sliding my arm around Serena's waist and guiding her to the couch where we sit.
"When's the last time you had a date, Logan?" she asks.
"I date." His defense is instant.
"Your laptop doesn't count," I point out.
"I have prospects."
"Audrey doesn't count either unless you actually ask her out."
His ears go red. "I don't—that's not—we're friends."
My phone buzzes.
Bennett:
Mandatory fun tonight. Layla insists Serena needs alcohol and dancing. Violet Room, 10 PM. Don't even think about saying no.
