Page 36 of Run for Her Life
TWENTY-TWO
“Adam, you’ve made some bold claims in your latest article, suggesting that Harrington Group isn’t just linked to the murder of one of their own, but that there’s—what was it—‘a deeper rot beneath the surface’? Let’s start with that.”
Adam was suited up in the studio. Giddiness oozed out of him at the attention he was getting. “Look, I don’t just throw things out for clicks, Julia. I follow the facts. And the facts? They don’t look good for the Harringtons.”
“All right. What facts?” Julia raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve got an employee who is high-level security clearance working on AI infrastructure and is found murdered and buried in the woods.”
“That’s circumstantial at best. Where’s the link to Harrington Group?”
“The link, Julia, is in the timing. Harrington Group was about to make a big announcement and then boom. They backtracked. The woman—Annabelle Stevens was an internal asset—was sitting on something. A project, a concern, something she wasn’t supposed to talk about. And what happens? She winds up dead. And what does Harrington Group do? They button up. No comment, no transparency, just… silence.”
“Or they’re following legal protocol and respecting an active police investigation?” she challenged.
“Come on. You’ve been in this business long enough to know better. The minute her death hit the news, they started scrubbing connections, sealing files, locking doors. My source told me that they were reluctant to hand over Annabelle’s laptop to the authorities. Why is that? What are they hiding?”
Julia gave it some thought. “You’re making a very serious allegation with no direct evidence. This is all speculation.”
“I’ve got sources, and I’ve got a trail.” A dramatic pause. “Annabelle Stevens isn’t the only victim.”
Julia leaned forward. “What are you saying?”
His cheeks lifted in a clandestine smile. “My sources have told me that a woman called Jackie Fink has also gone missing. She was hired by Harrington Group to do some freelance work. Now, tell me, Julia, does it still feel like mere speculation to you? What you call speculation, I call pattern.”
“Are you saying we have a missing woman?” Julia was alarmed.
“Yes. And trust me, it all comes down to Harrington Group.”
Zoe turned off the television and groaned. “It’s out now. Jackie Fink’s disappearance.”
Aiden was perched on a desk, his nose buried in paperwork. “Why didn’t we make this public sooner?”
“Because there is no evidence of her being taken.” She picked up an apple she had swiped from the break room and tossed it between her hands as she paced the office. “And she’s an adult. Protocol doesn’t dictate publicizing every disappearance. Now watch the staff here get busy with tips.”
Their workroom was cozy with brown walls and lime-green carpet. The rain drummed against the roof in steady, uneven rhythms, a soft patter turning into a muffled roar. Every so often, the wind sent sheets of rain slapping against the siding, a hollow, rattling sound that made the walls feel even thinner than they were.
For a moment, she felt comfortable. But then as she looked out the window through the rivulets into the blurry, gray scene, a shape took form. The shape of a man. She stumbled back and the shape dissolved.
“What is it?”
She was about to confide in him about her fear, about how she wasn’t entirely surprised that someone was keeping track of her, but there was a knock at the door.
Their heads turned to find Trevor with a stroller and holding Kevin’s hand.
“Mr. Stevens,” Aiden exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
Trevor looked like hell—his hair unruly and shirt covered with milk stains. But it was Kevin’s blank stare and hollow eyes that made Zoe’s heart stop. A little boy afraid of how the world would treat him without his biggest shield to protect him. Was that the look she had when her mother died?
“I’m here to report a break-in,” Trevor said bluntly.
“A break-in?” Zoe’s eyes widened. “What happened? Sit down.”
Trevor collapsed onto a chair with Kevin. The baby in the stroller stirred and Aiden began rocking the stroller back and forth. Zoe’s heart did a little flip before she chided herself. She didn’t even like Aiden, did she?
“I… I haven’t been sleeping well in our bedroom, so I sleep in Kevin’s room,” Trevor admitted bashfully. “I have nightmares. This morning I went into the main bedroom to get some clothes and noticed that a lamp was on the floor and some of thedrawers on the nightstand were open. I thought it was odd but then I went into the closet and I swear it looked different.” His red, tired eyes searched theirs. “I don’t know how to explain it… but I think someone was there.”
“Could it have been the kids?” Zoe looked at Kevin, who was staring out the window and rubbing his eyes.
