The voicemail on Alex’s phone confirmed what he already knew.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make our lunch meeting today, Mr. Wyatt. Can we reschedule?”
Wasn’t going to happen. No-shows were high on his list of those he didn’t have the patience to deal with under normal circumstances, and the wasted trip in the middle of his day had worsened his mood.
He stopped at his secretary’s empty desk and left a note to avoid rescheduling Mr. Townsend unless he had an excellent excuse. Alien abduction might qualify.
George’s voice carried across the reception area from his office. For a second, Alex thought he heard him say “Elaina,” but his mind constantly played tricks on him. That was one of the hazards of not sleeping enough—and having an obsession.
Alex stood outside George’s office to tease him about working through his lunch hour.
George’s attention was on his computer monitor. “Okay, I’ll let you go work on your cave project, but remember to pick up your money tomorr—” He spotted Alex. “Oh.”
He hung up the phone and closed a spiral notebook. “You’re back from your lunch meeting already.”
“A no-show.”
Alex strode into George’s office. The man moved his mouse and changed his screen. Was that behavior as suspicious as it seemed, or was this more mind tricks due to lack of sleep?
He pressed on his temple, but nothing could help his tenuous grasp on normal. “Something important going on to keep you from lunch?”
“No, a friend of mine is building a man-cave over his garage, and he wanted my advice. Like a Queer Eye for the Straight Guy thing.” He shut down his computer. “I’m going to get food. Do you want anything?”
Did George usually turn off his computer when he left for lunch?
“No, I’m good. I ate while I was waiting at the restaurant.”
“Smart.” George grabbed his coat—and the notebook. “Okay, I’ll see you in a few.”
That was definitely unusual. George hated holding anything in his hands. He’d never carry around a notepad unless he had his laptop bag to slip it into later.
“Take your time.”
George gave him a double take. “Is everything all right? I can order in if you need something.”
Alex returned to the reception area and motioned to George from the doorway of his own office. “Go enjoy your lunch. Just remember we have the Powell meeting at two.”
George’s features relaxed, which only emphasized how tense he was before. “Sure thing, boss.”
Alex turned his back to the man and sat at his desk. On his computer, he logged into the security camera feed and tracked George’s progress to the elevator. He’d made security give him access a few years ago when paparazzi started trying to sneak onto his office floor.
Right as Alex switched over to the elevator feed, George glanced up at the camera, as though wondering if he was being watched. The man clutched the notepad tighter and strode out to the lobby on the first floor.
Lobby feed, lobby feed. Where the hell were the lobby cameras in the pull-down menu?
By the time he found them in the computer application, he was sure he’d missed George, yet there he was, buttoning up his coat and strolling outside. What had he done in the meantime? He was walking from a different direction than the elevators, and the notebook was nowhere to be seen.
Alex waited a minute to make sure George didn’t double back, and then he called the lobby reception desk.
“How may I help you, Mr. Wyatt?”
“Did George talk to you while he was downstairs?”
“No, sir. Was he supposed to?”
“No, I’ll take care of it. Thank you.”
Either his obsession and sleep deprivation were turning into paranoia, or George had been acting suspiciously. The question would add to his fixation if he didn’t discover the answer.
Alex went down to the lobby and stood in the same spot he’d last seen George, facing in the same direction. He spun around and tried to guess where the man had come from and what he might have been doing.
“Something I can help you with, Mr. Wyatt?”
He waved toward the lobby desk without taking his eyes off his target. “No, thank you.”
The restroom? They were down that hallway, and if George suspected he was being watched, that’d be the only option without cameras.
Alex entered the bathroom. Empty. Most of the building was probably at lunch.
He removed the lid to the garbage can nearest the door. A notebook, which looked exactly like George’s, sat on top of the pile of crumbled paper towels. Alex picked up the notepad.
Shreds of paper dangled from the spiral coil. He didn’t remember seeing them in the notebook earlier.
Perhaps George had torn out a sheet of notes he wanted to keep before tossing the rest of the pad. If so, that was definitely suspicious.
Who would throw away a notebook when it had almost all of its pages? Only someone who couldn’t stand to carry the whole notepad around, but needed to keep something on one of the sheets.
Alex tilted the top page to the light. No indentations left behind that he could see.
A few of the paper shreds fell from the spiral. Several chunks remained. Chunks. As in, more than one sheet had been ripped out.
Another garbage can on the other side of the sinks caught his eye. Would George have been that paranoid?
Alex replaced the lid for the first can and uncovered the second. Sure enough, several blank pages lay scattered over the top.
“George, you’re a smart man, but not smart enough to out-think me this time.”
He retrieved the pages and put them back into the notepad for safekeeping. At least one of the sheets had indentations, but he didn’t want to risk messing up the evidence by running a pencil over it himself. After reassembling the second can and washing up, he called Governor Boyce’s personal cell.
It was probably bad form to call the governor from a restroom—even while standing at the sinks—but he didn’t care. Other than returning to his office, this was the best place for privacy.
“Alex, it’s good to hear from you. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I need a favor, Roger.”
“I believe I still owe you one for your security team’s success with my wife’s necklace last fall. What kind of favor are we talking about?”
“I need a couple of pages analyzed to see what was written on the sheet above them.”
The man harrumphed. “That’s an odd request. You mean like a forensic thing?”
“Yes. And I need them analyzed as soon as possible.” It was overkill to go to the governor for this, but he didn’t have the patience to deal with bureaucracy right now.
“Shouldn’t be a problem. Let me make a few calls, and I’ll get back to you.”
After Roger hung up, Alex stared into the mirror over the sink. The face that looked back at him was nearly unrecognizable. The combination of poor sleep, his obsession, and the energy he now felt to solve this mystery left him resembling a reanimated corpse. If anyone knew how much worse his mental state was than his body’s condition, he’d be committed.
His control over his emotions was more tenuous than ever, and he scrubbed his cheeks, pushing his chaotic thoughts below the surface. The motion brought something George had said to mind, something that would help him figure this out, but the specifics floated tantalizingly out of reach.
“Tell me.” He struck the mirror. “Tell me what I need to know.”
He pounded on his image, as though he could grab the memory from his double. The glass shattered under his fists. Fragments tinkled into the sink and pinged across the tile floor.
He jumped back from the shards, his hands empty of glass or answers. Jagged wedges of silver clung to the wall beyond the point of his attack. The remaining frame of sharp slices pierced the outline of his reflection, imitating the constant assault on his sanity.
He’d done that? Pinpricks of blood decorated the side of his hands.
Cold radiated from his core through his limbs. The evidence of his outburst surrounded him. He had done that. His grasp on his control was even worse than he’d feared.
He probably should be more concerned about his failure to restrain himself, but it was easier to chalk up his short temper to poor sleep. These slips didn’t indicate a bigger problem. Did they?
Dismissing the question, he refocused on the immediate issue. Either he was completely losing his mind, or his assistant was trying very hard to hide something from him.
Neither option was good. And it was entirely possible that both were true.