The city lights blurred as the hired SUVs crawled through the night, each vehicle carrying men who had made a business of uncovering other people’s secrets — corporate detectives, freelance investigators, men without loyalties and with short memories for promises. David sat rigidly in the back of one of the cars, jaw clenched, fingers drumming his knee. He’d paid them well; he expected results.
“Find out what Jacob’s hiding,” he’d told Tony, his most trusted fixer. “Find the accounts. Find the transfers. If he’s been trading against the company, expose him.”
Tony had grinned, flashing gold teeth. “Don’t worry, boss. We’ll find whatever you want. People always leave a trail.”
David watched the offices of Martin Group speed past, a flash of steel and glass, and felt something like hunger
