The Substitute

Chapter Eight: The Drawer

Guilt made her reckless the next morning. She stayed late again — alone this time, Julian gone to a dinner meeting she'd arranged herself — and used the letter opener from her own desk drawer to force the lock on Elise's, the one facilities had never gotten around to fixing.

Inside: a burner phone, dead. A printed bank statement showing transfers to an account under a name she didn't recognise — R. Whitmore. A second photo of Julian, older than the one on the desk, undated, with something written on the back in handwriting that matched the letter from the storage unit.

He's not who he says he is with them. Ask about Ferris Point.

Ferris Point. A search on her phone turned up nothing but a real estate listing — a lake property two hours north, sold eighteen months ago, buyer redacted in the public record.

Her phone buzzed, as it always did now, precisely when she least wanted it to.

You found the drawer.

Good. Now ask him about Ferris Point. Watch his face when you do. That's all I'm asking. Just watch his face.

Then decide who you believe.

Mara sat in the dark office a long time, the burner phone cold and dead in her palm, the second photo of Julian's face staring up at her with an expression she couldn't parse in a moment she hadn't witnessed, and felt, for the first time since she'd taken this job, genuinely afraid of what she might already be in the middle of.