His Only Obsession

Four

Raven:

I arrive at Pike Place Market fifteen minutes early.

The north entrance is deserted except for a few people heading toward the bars down the street. I lean against the brick wall and wait.

At exactly ten o’clock, a woman in her mid-thirties appears.

She walks toward me like she owns the night.

“Raven Stone.” She stops a few feet away. “We need to talk.”

“Who are you?”

She pulls out a laminated card. Private investigator license. “I’m Sarah Brennan. I used to work in financial crimes for the FBI. Now I work privately.” She pockets it. “And I know exactly who you are.”

I don’t flinch. “Congratulations. What do you want from me ?”

“You’re direct,I like that.” She pulls out her phone and shows me the photo from this morning. Me in Adrian’s office, photographing files. “This amounts to corporate espionage and could lead to felony charges.But I’m not here to turn you in.”

“Then what?”

“I’m here to offer you a deal.”

“Okay,I’m listening.”

“I’ve been hired to gather intelligence on Malcolm Lockwood. You work for his son. That makes you useful.”

“Useful to who?”

“My client.”

I cross my arms. “ That’s not good enough. Who’s your client?”

“Someone willing to pay very well for information on Malcolm’s movements, his security, his vulnerabilities.” She tilts her head. “Someone who has access to evidence you need.”

“What evidence?”

“Documentation linking Malcolm directly to the embezzlement that destroyed your father. Financial trails, communication records, transaction logs with his signature.” She steps closer. “Real proof. Not the circumstantial pieces you’ve been collecting.”

My jaw tightens. “How do you know what I have?”

“Because I’ve been watching you since the day you applied to Lockwood Enterprises.” Her smile sharpens. “You think you’re the only one interested in Malcolm Lockwood? My client’s been planning this for years.”

My stomach drops. “Since before I started working there.”

“Since before you even created Raven Stone.” She watches my face. “You’re good. The credentials, the references, the backstory. But my client’s better.”

I force my voice steadily . “Show me something real, or this conversation is over.”

She pulls up a file on her phone. A scanned document with financial transactions, dates and account numbers.

Malcolm Lockwood’s signature at the bottom.

My breath catches. Not intermediaries or shell companies. His name, right there, linked to the accounts that destroyed my father.

I reach for the phone. She pulls it back.

“That’s all you get until we have a deal.”

“What deal?”

“You get me information on Malcolm.His schedule, routines and security patterns. Anything that tells me when he’s vulnerable.” She pockets the phone. “I give you access to my client’s files.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Monday morning, Adrian gets an email. Your real name, those photos, everything.” She pauses. “How long do you think you’d last after that?”

“You need me more than I need you.” I step closer. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. So stop threatening me and tell me what you actually want.”

Something flickers in her expression. Respect, maybe.

“There’s a family dinner Saturday night at the Lockwood estate. Malcolm will be there. I need you there too.”

“I’m Adrian's assistant, not his girlfriend.”

“Then make him invite you. You’re resourceful.” She pulls out a burner phone, holds it out. “Whenever I text, you respond. You provide information, you get access to evidence. Simple.”

I don’t take it. “What’s in it for me besides not getting exposed? You already said your client has evidence. What else?”

“My client knows things about Malcolm you don’t. Things that go beyond your father’s case.” She extends the phone again. “One week. Prove you’re useful, or I find another way in. And you lose your only shot at the truth.”

I take the phone. “Your client. What do they want from Malcolm?”

“That’s between them and Malcolm.” She starts to walk away.

“Wait.” She stops. “You said you know how Malcolm operates. What does that mean?”

She glances back. “It means Malcolm Lockwood has something that belongs to my client. Something he’s kept locked away for a very long time.” She pauses. “And they want it back.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll find out. If you survive long enough.”

She disappears into the darkness.

I stand there, staring at the burner phone in my hand.

Something Malcolm’s kept locked away.

My regular phone buzzes. I pull it out.

Unknown number. A text.

The file I showed you? That’s transaction one. Malcolm transferred $847,000 to offshore accounts the week before your father was accused. There are more transfers. Get me what I need, and you’ll see all of them.

More proof that Malcolm destroyed my father deliberately.

Then I pull up my contacts and call Jordan.

“Hey Raven. How did it go?.”

“Honestly, I don’t know…..I need a full background check on someone .”

“Who?”

“Her name’s Sarah Brennan. Former FBI, now private investigator. Based in Seattle, I think.”

“What kind of everything?”

“Why she left the FBI. Who she’s worked for in the past year. Bank records if you can get them. Known associates. Anything that tells me who hired her.”

“Alright Raven, just give me a few days.”

“I don’t have time for a few days, Jordan.”

“Fine, twenty- four hours . I’ll send you what I find.”

I hang up and stare at the burner phone again.

Eight years of planning, and now someone else is pulling strings I can’t see.

But I’m not their errand girl.

I’m going to find out exactly who Sarah Brennan is and who hired her.

And then I’m going to decide if they’re useful to me.

Or if they’re just another obstacle I need to remove.