Page 45 of Unlocked

Archer pushed open the door to Tatum's apartment at the Society and found her standing in the middle of the living room, staring at nothing.

She'd kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag on the couch. She looked exhausted; dark circles under her eyes, shoulders tight with tension she was trying, and failing, to hide.

He'd gotten the security reports throughout the day. She'd spent hours at her apartment with two guards hovering. She hadn't complained, hadn't tried to ditch them, but he could see the toll it had taken. Being watched. Being contained.

She hated it. He didn't blame her.

"Long day?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

She frowned.

"I knocked," he said.

She sighed. "To answer your question, yes. The longest." She studied his face. "Did you find out anything about North?"

His stomach tightened. He'd been dreading this conversation all day.

"We need to talk."

Her face went pale. "What?"

"We have confirmation that Richard North was murdered."

He watched the words hit her. Watched her process them. He’d known she'd suspected as much, but confirmation was different. Confirmation made it real.

Made it dangerous.

"How do you know?" she asked, sitting down on the sofa.

"When news of the Ponzi scheme broke, I had my people install a security camera. Hidden. It doesn't capture the whole place, but it picks up enough." He paused. "I have to protect the Society." He didn't want her to think he put cameras in every member's home.

Archer pulled out his phone, brought up the video, and handed it to her. "You need to see this." Rush had sent it to him earlier. It didn't show the killer clearly, but it showed enough.

Her hands shook slightly as she took the phone. He wanted to reach for her, steady her, but he stayed where he was and watched her face as the footage played.

The color drained from her cheeks. Her breath caught when the figure in the skeleton mask appeared. And when Richard fell, she flinched.

When she handed the phone back, her hand was trembling.

"Jesus."

"Yes," he agreed. "It was deliberate. Planned. They knew exactly what they were doing."

"Have you given this to the police?" she asked.

"Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first." He pocketed the phone, his mind already moving through the next steps. "I think we need to move faster. Push harder. If they're willing to kill Richard to keep this quiet, they're not going to stop."

She frowned. "What are you suggesting?"

"Timothy Lebowitz. I think he's the next weakest link. He had to know where the bodies are buried. Or in this case, where the money is."

She nodded slowly. "I agree. So we go talk to him."

"I go talk to him," Archer corrected, already bracing for the fight. "You stay here."

"Absolutely not."

"Tatum—"