Page 27 of Carved Obsession

I squeeze the puzzle in my hand, feeding on the sharp pain from one of the corners as it digs deeper into my skin.I guess the quiet times have officially ended.

“One of us should be with you when you open the box,” Vincent offers.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll let you know what I find. See you later.”

I turn and walk away before they can stall me with further futile conversation. If this box is a trap—a bomb—I don’t want anyone else to go down with me. I suspect it’s not, but I’m not willing to risk any of them.

“Check your cars,” I say loud enough for them to hear as the door shuts behind me.

I suspect I was the only one targeted, but better safe than sorry.

Chapter 7

Carter

I hacked into the city’s CCTV system for the second time today, this time to find the cameras around Metamorphosis. Four currently occupy just as many of my computer screens. None show the face of the culprit.

Considering the situation, the confidence with which they carry themselves is irritating. It not only suggests experience, but preparation too.

Only, that would be impossible since I only decided to go to the club late in the afternoon. There wasn’t even a plan to leave my car there, and it’s not something I do every time I frequent the establishment.

No. This smells like seized opportunity after some degree of preparation. It also smells like surveillance—they’ve been watching me.

And I have no fucking distinguishing factors by which to locate and watch them. All I see is this hooded figure disappear down an alley between the backs of two old stone buildings. I switch to another camera angle that may catch the alley from the distance, but it’s too dark and this person dissipates into the shadows. I check footage that captures the other side of the alley, but the angle only sees half of the entrance.

“Fuck!”

Pulling up more cameras in the area, I sit back and watch the monitors for any trace of this person. They have to show up on one of them. No matter what, they would have left the area.

Unless they live there.

Three hours and countless rewinds later, and I can practically feel the bulging vein in my throat throbbing with frustration. That’s all I seem to feel these days—endless frustration. Because the hooded figure is nowhere to be seen. Just drunk people returning to their hotels and homes, and others leaving disheveled after getting exactly what they went there for. No one stands out.

Which means it could be any of these people. Or someone in a car. Or they could live here.

I have no more information than I had when I was staring at my car.

Only the puzzle.

With a deep sigh that feels more like breathing fire, I grab the damn thing and start powering down my system.

Wait.

There’s something else I didn’t check.

I didn’t assume the gender of the person who did this. What if it was a woman? What if it washer?No cameras capture her property, but maybe I can see her car on the road. Or something...anything to indicate it was her.

Better yet, I’ll hack into her phone and get her location data. Finding her number was easy. Hopefully, remotely accessing the device will be just as easy.

My phone vibrates on the desk, and I turn it over to find a text. Speak of the fucking devil.

I had more time to think about this, and I need to tell you something.

Do tell.

I’m truly hurt.

I may be mad, but I feel a tug at the corner of my lips.