Page 2 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)
CHAPTER TWO
Kasey
Present Day
The pleasant chirp of a notification has me abandoning my lunch of buttered noodles in the microwave. I haven’t heard that particular notification in months, but it’s my favorite sound.
It means I have a visitor.
I practically hop into the swivel chair and glide to my desk—my happy place.
I have a total of five monitors—three in constant use and two spares for when I’m working on a particularly complex project. Right now, they’re all lit up with the warning that someone is hacking into my computer.
I watch as my visitor’s cursor flits from one file to the next, only to find that each one is encrypted.
If they want to get in, they have a lot of work to do, and I hope they succeed.
They won’t find whatever information they’re looking for—just loads of nonsensical documents I fabricated years ago just for this purpose.
It usually takes them hours before they realize it was all for nothing.
I pull my knees to my chest and watch them poke around. They run a decryption program, but find no success. After failing to access two files this way, my visitor goes for a third, just as Kane trots over and rests his head on my thigh.
My German Shepherd is my one and only companion.
By choice, of course.
People are complicated, with high expectations and fragile feelings I have no interest in catering to. Dogs, on the other hand, are loyal and trainable.
“Do you want to go outside?”
Kane’s ears perk up, and I pet his head. “I thought so. Come on, buddy.”
I make my way through the living room of my two-bedroom penthouse to the mudroom and get my shoes on. Kane waits patiently for me to be ready, and when I am, he walks by my side as we take the stairs from the tenth floor down.
My view of Indianapolis is beautiful, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from one of the city’s most pristine apartments. There’s a strict no-animal policy in my building, but I was able to bend the rules once I named the right price.
We get to the base level, and at my signal, Kane goes off to do his business in the large patch of grass between our building and the next.
He runs around, finding sticks to bring me every so often.
I wait on a bench and soak up the warmth.
It’s early September, and I enjoy every last bit of summer before we’re thrown into another gloomy fall and bitter winter.
Once Kane returns to my side, huffing from his exercise, I lead him back upstairs.
I’ve just filled Kane’s food bowl when the pleasant chime sounds again.
The first chime was exciting. This one isn’t.
I get a visitor every few months. I have never had two in one day.
All my visitors want the same thing: to hire me. The jobs vary—investigating rival companies, planting evidence, coding programs—but the clientele always consists of shady characters with less-than-honorable intent.
I don’t make it easy for them to find me—after all, I won’t work for just anyone. I’d normally let them go until they give up, then do my research and reach out if I’m interested in working with them.
However, having multiple visitors in one day is reason enough to skip a few steps.
Thirty minutes is all it takes to gather the necessary information on both the visitors still attempting to crack into the files on my desktop.
The first is Jace Ford, a thirty-year-old hacker based outside Chicago. I can’t find an exact job title for what he does, but when I see the name Consoli come up in an old police report—which was quickly retracted—I know everything I need to.
I’ve never worked with the Consolis directly, but I’ve been in this business long enough to recognize the name and the power that accompanies it.
The Consolis may reside in Chicago, but their influence stretches across the Midwest and Southwest regions of the country, including my city. The smaller criminal syndicates or organizations within that territory only operate with their permission.
I assumed the second visitor would also have ties to the Consoli family, but I am once again surprised.
Kade Manning is located in Los Angeles, California.
He’s the only son of two surgeons and has an extensive history of getting into trouble with authorities for digging into places he shouldn’t.
The reports stop around the time he turned twenty, and though I can’t find the specific reason why, I do come across the name Joshua Moreno.
Of the Moreno mafia family.
Two of the five most prominent criminal families in the country are investigating my work.
The only question now is why —and I will thoroughly enjoy getting my answer.
These families are certainly more dangerous than anyone I’ve worked with before, but they crossed me first, and I can hardly be blamed for defending myself.
Besides, they’re clearly curious about my abilities, so it’s only fair that I show them exactly what I’m capable of.
I’m generous enough to give a ten-minute delay to the present I send to my visitors.
Let the games begin.