Page 25 of Only the Devil

“Maybe,” she says.

Yeah, no. That’s what happens, but I won’t argue with her.

“Did I mention Phillip Sterling’s brother?”

“No. He works there too?”

“No. He doesn’t. He’s a half-brother. Same father. Founded an investment fund like fifty years ago that’s done gangbusters. Stocks, bonds, and commodities—not crypto. His name’s being floated on the short list for a seat on the Federal Reserve Board of Governors. Bennett Sterling.”

“Is his fund associated with Sterling Financial?”

“His fund, no, but he’s on the board. But that doesn’t mean anything. He’s on a ton of boards and it’s his brother’s company. Well, half-brother. They share the Sterling last name. There’s no evidence he knows a thing about crypto. He’s not listed as an investor. He’s widely respected, but none of the articles about him mention his half-brother. His net worth is reportedly in the forty to fifty billion range.”

“Well, wealth’s not a crime. Interesting, though.”

“Maybe he joined the board to make sure Sterling Financial plays it straight. He’s a recent addition.”

My blood sugar’s dropping and I’m on the verge of slipping into hangry territory, so I hold my mug up to flag her attention. “I’m gonna go across the street and grab breakfast. What do you want?”

“Egg and cheese biscuit.”

“I imagine they have that.”

“Oh, they do. I stop by there every morning on the way to work.”

“Alright then. You get dressed. I’ll be back and we can eat on the balcony and go through whatever else you got.”

“The balcony?”

“Sure. Fresh air.” I grin. “I’m a Southern boy. Don’t wanna spend the day inside. Plus, when there’s commotion outside, we’ll naturally hear it and have a reason for heading over.”

We end up eating not only breakfast but also lunch outside on that balcony. A storm rolls in while we’re sitting out there, but the front brings a steady rain… so we sit through it until the showers pass and the sun peeks through the clouds.

Twenty questions turn into fifty. We play Spades. I consider suggesting poker, but then I’d want to play strip poker, and that’s just asking my brain to take a deep dive into the gutter, so I keep it at family-friendly Spades. Six hours pass. Nothing.

The sun glints off the glass, signaling the end of the day. Before long, dusk will fall.

“Did you notice in your search on…” I struggle to remember the woman’s name.

“Jocelyn,” Daisy supplies.

“Did she have a family? Was she married?” I think back to her lying on the floor. No ring that I recall.

“Found her on LinkedIn but we aren’t connected. When the ARGUS query is done, we’ll have those details.”

She looks wistfully in the direction across the street. “I’m feeling this need to go across the street. Is that stupid?”

“I doubt anything you ever do is stupid,” I answer honestly.

She half-laughs. “Oh, if you only knew.”

If we weren’t talking about a dead person across the street, I’d probe. But I shouldn’t. I should stop with the nonsense. Letting my baser desires take over with my roommate and also the woman I’ve been charged with protecting, would be like walking into an ambush with my eyes wide open.

As for her idea to head over there now, it would give us something to do and give us some much-needed space. “If we go over, isn’t there an electronic record?”

“Yes. There would be,” she confirms. “I use my badge to access the building after hours. We didn’t yesterday because technically the building was still open. But if someone checks the lobby surveillance footage they’ll see we entered.”

“It’s not worth it, then. If there’s nothing through tonight, and into tomorrow, maybe we’ll go over together. You can bring some photos. Maybe take a piece of art or something to hang on your office wall. We’ll use that as our excuse for being there. You can snoop then.”