Page 3 of Triple Power Play 3
In the van, I connect the iPhone and wait impatiently for the Apple icon to light up on the screen. It only takes one guess to crack his password—Aurora’s birthday. I shake my head. And he thinksI’mthe idiot?
Aurora blowing a kiss is his background picture. Sunlight catching her eyes highlights flecks of gold, giving her an ethereal glow. I take a moment to stare at it, wishing it were me on the receiving end, then force myself to move on.
No hidden apps or files. No email. I refrain from gawking at any more of Aurora’s photos, no matter how much I really,reallywant to. I tell myself it’s wrong to look at pictures not intended for me—damn morals.
Open in the browser is a home security website. Of course, the password is stored on his phone, and in seconds, I’m connected to cameras inside his downtown penthouse. The entranceway, kitchen, balcony, living room, and primary bedroom—all monitored.
He lived there with Aurora. Was he sitting here watching her?
Worse, he saved videos of them together—intimately—and a few of her alone. My stomach churns. He recorded and watched her, and I doubt she knows.
He can access this website anytime, anywhere, along with any hacker with half a brain. What a moron.
My emotions do a complete one-eighty when I find a recording of Kyle and two other men. I blink in disbelief. The tiny screen limits my view, but a quick scan of the video shows girls dancing and couples coming and going from the living room.
It’s not the only one. Kyle frequently used Jax’s penthouse. My mind races, considering who we might identify, only to realize if I hand this over, my team will have compromising videos of Aurora. I’m sure Jax reached the same conclusion.
Even if he removed Kyle’s videos and deleted the others, he’d still have to explain the source. We could subpoena the website and recover the archived footage, and Aurora might find out the downtown penthouse had cameras the entire time she lived there.
He withheld evidence so his fiancée wouldn’t discover he was a full-on stalker.
I’m so ingrained in my thoughts, I jump when Charlie opens the door.
He peeks his head in. “Hey, man. We got a problem.”
“What is it?” I snap, trying—badly—to sound casual.
He narrows his eyes in suspicion but doesn’t call me out. “I found something on Kyle’s phone.” He hands it over. “You recognize this address?”
“Fuck!” In the message is Aurora’s new address, sent to some unknown perp, along with pictures of all of us, including me. “Did he send these, or did someone else, after his death?”
“Good question.”
2
REECE
“So Kyle was still keeping track of his son,” Charlie says around a mouthful of shrimp fried rice. He’s the sloppiest eater, worse than Jax, who at least tries to be polite while stuffing his face.
It’s just the two of us in this creepy house, using Kyle’s dining room table probably more than he ever did. The rest of the team bailed on another takeout dinner.
“How’d he even find the address?” I push the Styrofoam container of General Tso’s chicken away. I can’t stomach it with this conversation and the dread swirling in my gut. “And why would anyone else need it? Who?”
He sweeps his shaggy hair from his eyes with the back of his hand. “Doesn’t mean Aurora is in danger. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”
I clench my jaw, exacerbating the headache coming on. With Kyle dead, Aurora should be safe.Should be.Doesn’t guarantee she is. “What if they’re aware of the investigation and believe Jackson has evidence? They’ll go after him.”
Charlie arches a brow and holds my gaze. “Does he?”
I trust my partner explicitly. We were deployed together before joining the Department of Homeland Security. Whateverlies ahead in life, he’ll follow me. “I’m not protecting him, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He cocks his head and purses his lips.
“I’m not,” I insist. “I’m protecting Aurora. I have something, but I need your help.”
Hours later, after painstakingly going over the evidence, I’m staring at the ceiling of my hotel room. Unable to sleep, I check Aurora’s location—she’s in New York. She has the guys with her, including the twins, but it still weighs on me. I should be there to protect her.
I flip the phone over in my hand, wanting to call, but it’s past midnight on the East Coast. I’ll message her. If she’s awake and replies, maybe I can relax and get a few hours’ sleep.
