I have no idea how the fuck anyone would know to dig up this report. Nobody except Leo, of course. Or my mother. But Leo surely knows not to fuck with me like this and my mother is very dead.
have you seen this? The original email asks, all lower-case letters and silent malice. rachel fordham killed herself in aeron lore’s lobby. everyone knows he was her high school boyfriend. this happened while they were together. dig a little deeper and you’ll find he was the one holding the knife…cutting in places blood honey likes to cut. Just fyi.
A wave of cold adrenaline rushes up to lick the base of my throat. I brace against it, solid and still as I read the message over and over.
Then I manage to bring a finger up, typing long enough to forward the message to Leo.
“Sir? Aeron?” Harvey raises his voice slightly. “You hear me?”
“Fuck off a second,” I mutter. Then I try to call Leo. It goes straight to answerphone. Shit, shit.
I just need to hear her voice. To talk it through. There’s another voice in my head right now, loud and clear as a fucking klaxon, and it says you’re ruined. Done for.
RIP, Mr. Lore.
Harvey frowns, and clambers over on his knees. “What’s the problem?”
Harvey knows about my mother, but he doesn’t know about Rachel. That was well before his time. If I’m going to survive, I have to keep it this way.
I suck in a cold breath—despite the warm air in the office—and turn my phone so that he can see the email. His brown eyes narrow as he reads; his suspicious expression gradually blurs into something between shock and fascination.
“Forward this to my account,” he says with badly feigned calm. “I’ll get it straight into forensics. Find out who the hell’s sending this shit.”
“Do you see where they’ve sent it?” I roll the screen up to show him. “This…this is bad.” And if Harvey’s already panicking, it’s very bad.
“Forward it. Sir. And if you don’t mind me offering advice, get Carson on the phone before you do anything else.” He leaps up, wiping his hands on his pants. “It’ll take more than this to paint you as a serial killer.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” A lie. It confirms exactly what’s Leo’s been saying, and there’s no avoiding it changes things. And the truth about Rachel…fuck. Shit. “The thing is, we buried Rachel’s suicide with the GNS twink scandal. This is going to dig it all up big time. Might as well have her corpse parading around on a fucking carnival float.” I won’t survive that. Lore Corp won’t. If there wasn’t a shred of truth to this, it wouldn’t matter; the beast in me can smell the news potential for miles, and soon, the vultures will circle.
The room blurs and pixelates. Swivels and swirls.
“I’m going straight to forensics. Do nothing without Carson,” Harvey barks, and then hurries out of the room.
Do nothing? Since when do I take orders from anybody? And why they fuck can’t I move to try Leo again?
My cell bleats to life in my hand, sending shudders of cool shock up my arm. It takes three blinks for me to read the caller’s name: Posner.
Posner? Did anyone not get this crap?
“Yes?” I say raggedly into the receiver. “What?”
“You’ve seen the email,” comes his too-quiet voice.
“What email?”
“You know the one, Aeron.”
“The one about the candy floss and rainbows, or whatever you were fucking talking about?”
“Actually, I haven’t had the pleasure of this particular cupcake until now,” he bites back. “This is a whole new heap of fairy dust.”
“Did your whole department get this?” I scratch at my bare wrists. They’re numb.
“It was sent to my superior, who sent it to me. She knows about our little fling.” Posner clears his throat; it’s impossible to tell how sarcastic he’s being, and I hate it.
“I take it she doesn’t know that you send me dirty photos.”