Page 5 of Doxed
Ronan’s phone was clean, nothing popping out, and when I called Mason to tell him that, he sighed and thanked me before hanging up.
I feel for the guy. But I have other things to be looking into than dead end phones.
Like who the fuck keeps coming into La Lujuria with a full security team and making all the workers walk on fucking eggshells?
He only ever talks to one girl too, and all they do is talk.
Briar Anderson. My target.
Last night I was able to get a screen grab of his face and immediately put it through facial recognition, but it’s taking a while.
I’m laying in bed, watching the rain fall outside of my wall of windows, the water dripping from the tree branches, when my phone buzzes on my nightstand. I roll over and pick it up, the screen the only light in the room.
My search got a hit.
Rolling out of bed, I step onto the cold concrete floor and walk through my house.
The lights are all off, and even though most of my house is made of glass walls, with the rain and since it’s very early morning, the outside isn’t letting in any light either.
I walk down to the first floor, turn down the hall, and type in my code for my office, then I place my thumb on the scanner, and the door unlocks.
Pushing open the door, I step into the room.
It’s completely different from the rest of my house.
This room doesn't have any windows, and all the walls are soundproof and fireproof. It’s basically a large panic room with extremely important technology.
Typing in my codes for my computer, it comes to life, and I read through the results of my search.
No. Fucking. Way.
File after file, police report after police report. Sealed. Redacted. I have it all. But why is he going to La Lujuria? He’s a long way from home, and I have trouble believing he’s going all this way to talk to a little brunette. Not Carlos Vicario. There’s more to this.
I guess I’m not getting any sleep today.
I slouch in my seat, watching Briar walk out of the elevator to her building and into the underground parking garage.
She walks to her Rivian and gets in, backing out of her spot and driving out.
On my tablet, I watch the red dot—that is her Rivian’s GPS system that I hacked into before she came down—drive down the street and head away from her apartment.
I set an alert to tell me if she comes back into the area, and I get out of my gray-green 718 Cayman Porsche.
I needed a car that would be inconspicuous in the garage while I waited for Briar to leave her apartment.
I shove my tablet under the seat, step out of my car, and walk to the elevator.
I take it to the top floor, checking the security cameras on my phone every few minutes, and when the elevator finally stops on Briar’s floor, I get out and walk to her door, keeping my head low with my hood pulled up. Not that I won't wipe the cameras after I leave, but just in case.
I take my lock pick set out of my tool bag and carefully pick her lock as stealthily as I can.
The door’s lock clicks, and I pull down the handle and walk in, checking the hall behind me to make sure no one watched me walk in, but I guess if anyone did, I kind of look like a maintenance man. A sketchy as fuck one, but whatever.
Flicking the lock back, I step further into her apartment and look around.
It’s nice. A little small for the price, but I know that’s not what she’s paying for.
She’s paying for the large bathroom with the double head shower, the walk-in closet, the prestige of the building, but most importantly, the view of the bay and the Wheel on the water.
Flipping on the lights, I look around the living room and kitchen area, which is only separated by a large marble counter.
Walking around, I place the small cameras around her apartment.
In the ceiling vent in the kitchen, in the electrical wall panel in her living room, and in the light switch in her bedroom.
I pull my phone out of my hoodie pocket and check the cameras, making sure they all work and I can see everything clearly. Satisfied with my work, I lock her door on my way out and head back down in the elevator to my car.
Now I can watch her all the time.