“Bye,” I yelled, opening the front door.
“Bye!”
“Be safe.”
I smiled as I took the central stairs. Life with my sisters was always noisy and colorful. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
A door opened. “Aspen?”
I spun and saw Mrs. Kerber in her doorway, with her fluffy, white cat tucked under her arm. Mrs. Kerber was a widow and lived one floor below me.
“Hey, Mrs. Kerber.” I glanced at the cat. “Hi, Milo.”
The cat glared at me with evil, blue eyes. I couldn’t ever shake the feeling that Milo was plotting my murder, or possibly world domination.
“You look pretty today, dear,” Mrs. Kerber said. “How are those lovely sisters of yours?”
Luckily, Mrs. Kerber didn’t always wear her hearing aid, or she’d hear that lovely and the twins didn’t always match up.
“They’re great. Doing well at school.”
“Wonderful.” Mrs. Kerber stroked Milo’s head. “Aspen, Skittles got out again. Could you help? I’m worried about him.”
I sighed. I didn’t have time for this.
The old woman watched me, pleading in her eyes. I knew she had trouble navigating the stairs because of her vertigo. I smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him.”
“Oh, thank you, dear. You’re such a good girl.”
That was me, Aspen Chandler, good girl. I often took small cases from neighbors, and they paid me with baked goods, or by doing odd jobs around my apartment. Mr. Billings around the corner had replumbed my bathroom, in return for me surveilling one of his employees, who was claiming he’d hurt his back on the job. I’d gotten some great snaps of the guy at the gym, and him helping his friend move house, and snagged myself brand-new pipes.
I hoofed it down the stairs. I suspected I knew where Skittles was.
Sure enough, the yellow cockatiel was perched on a ledge in the building entry, waiting for someone to open the front door so he could make a bid for freedom. I was certain the bird was trying to escape Milo. If Milo watched me with a scary look of disdain, the cat watched Skittles like he was starving and dinner was served.
“Come on, Skittles.”
After I’d retrieved the bird and returned him to Mrs. Kerber, I was now officially late. I pulled out my personal cell and tapped in a quick text to Erica.
Then I hit the sidewalk and jogged. Please don’t break an ankle.
By the time I reached the coffee shop, I was huffing and puffing.
It was a tiny place, and popular. I pushed through the crowd, and spied Erica sitting at a table at the back.
My friend noticed me and shot to her feet. “Aspen.”
My heart clenched. Erica Knox was a coppery-redhead, with milky-white skin covered in freckles. Usually she was smiling, with a twinkle in her eyes. In high school, she’d always been giggling. She’d been one of my closest friends, after I’d been forced to change schools at fourteen. She’d made school bearable for me.
There was no sign of that smile or giggle now. She looked pale, drawn, and tired. Huge, dark circles underscored her blue eyes. Like me, she wore office attire, and I noted that her belted blue dress was a little loose. She’d lost weight these last few weeks.
“Hey.” I took her hand and squeezed. “Sorry I’m late.”
Erica swallowed. “Do you…uh, want a coffee or anything?”
“I’m fine.” We sat. “How are you holding up?”
“I…I…” Tears welled in Erica’s eyes.
I leaned across the table. “We’re going to get him back, E. I promise.”
Erica nodded. “I know. I just worry.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s been almost a month.”
Four weeks ago, Erica’s new husband, Jake, had failed to come home from work. She’d gone to the cops, who’d told her to wait. That he’d probably turn up. Maybe marriage had freaked him out and he’d gone off to clear his head.
Then she’d gotten a message.
We have your husband. Do as we say, and you’ll get him back alive. Do not contact the police or he’s dead. If you don’t do exactly as we say…
Erica had come to me, panicked and on the verge of a breakdown.
I’d suggested she go to the police, but she’d lost it. Then I’d told her to wait and see what Jake’s abductors demanded.
Meanwhile, behind the scenes, I’d gotten busy doing some quiet digging and pulling in a few favors. I’d discovered who’d taken Jake.
Nexus.
Just the name set my gut churning.
Nexus was a smart, cunning group of white-collar criminals who specialized in corporate espionage, blackmail of wealthy business people and politicians, and a dash of embezzlement and corporate fraud. They kept their shit tight, took the time to plan their cons, and picked big targets.
What they wanted from Erica was neither quick or easy, and each day, I saw it wear on my friend.
Erica was a manager who worked in human resources for the Kensington Group—a large, multi-billion-dollar construction and property development company. Nexus had asked her to keep tabs on the company’s owner and CEO. To feed them information on his schedule and movements.
Their next target was Liam Kensington—one of the infamous Billionaire Bachelors of New York.
They didn’t come much bigger.
“Nexus haven’t sent me any instructions for days,” Erica whispered.
“Don’t worry, they’ve been dealing with me.” As of three weeks ago, I’d become her stand-in with the shadowy white-collar crime gang. “I’ve been getting texts. They’ve been checking that I’m in place.”
After Erica had come to me, I knew I had to help her. She was barely holding it together.
And I had extra incentive.
Every single thing I’d learned about Nexus had turned my stomach. They’d pulled off a huge insurance fraud earlier in the year. They’d destroyed the livelihoods of hundreds of families.
I smiled sharply. They were going down. I knew better than anyone the devastation that heartless criminals like these left behind. I’d lived and breathed it as a teenager.
I lifted my chin. The cold, greedy assholes who hid in plain sight and believed they had the right to everyone else’s money were done. Finito.
I’d activated an old alias of mine and dropped some breadcrumbs. Nexus had swiftly taken the bait. They thought I was a shady lawyer called Penn Channing, who knew my way around some not-so-legal dealings, and liked to make a quick buck.
Barely a week after making contact with them, they’d ordered me to go undercover at Kensington Group. They’d told me they felt their asset at the company—I wanted to punch them for calling Erica an asset—wasn’t solid enough to see through the plan. Erica had arranged for me to get hired as an assistant in the Marketing department.
I didn’t know the big picture yet. Nexus was good at only revealing bits of info to certain people.
Only Kristoff Doyle knew everything.
The leader of Nexus was a fifty-eight-year-old man with no past. I hadn’t found out a single thing about him. Not even a clear photograph. He stayed in the shadows.
“You think Nexus is getting ready to move on Mr. Kensington?” Erica asked.
I nodded. “Doyle’s moving pieces behind the scenes. I have no idea what he has on Kensington, but it can’t be good.”