The Dark Places by R. Whitfield (novel24 TXT) 📕

“No, nothing, you still are the most tenacious woman I have met and one I intend on staying far away from.”

“Fair enough,” she added with a casual shrug. “But since you did ask, I do have one little problem I could use your help with.” She waited for his reply and stared out the window, watching the raindrops shimmy down the glass. “Only a small favour, I promise,” she added when he hadn’t said anything.

“Email it to me then,” he sighed.

She silently cheered. “Thanks, Toby,” she said evenly. “I really appreciate it. This is a game-changer for me,” she said and meant it.

“I hope it’s worth it, Madison, because if anyone finds out you contacted me, you’ll be in more trouble than your creative little mind can even imagine,” he cautioned and then hung up without another word.

Madison put the phone down and smiled. Toby was a verified genius with computers, but he also knew every back-alley doorway to the internet, every shortcut, every hidden passage, every nook and cranny of the dark web. She had met him five years ago during the time of the infamous Loubuto murders, your basic gangland killings. One gang takes out this boss, so the other takes out that boss and so on and so forth. Toby had been working for Mr Johnny Loubuto, helping him launder millions of dollars through a popular bar downtown. Madison had stumbled on this little fact purely by accident. She had gone to interrogate Ricky Malthouse, an up-and-coming lieutenant in Loubuto’s organisation who tended bar and had been caught by police the week prior with an underage girl. Madison had walked into that bar intent on putting the sicko’s face on the front page of the paper only to accidentally run into Toby as he was running out, literally. He had smacked straight into her, dropping his laptop and multiple folders of seemingly endless paper. She had bent down to help him and glanced at what looked like ledger pages thinking nothing of it. Toby apologised, and she had been immediately taken aback by his deep brown eyes, they were kind. He asked her out almost instantly, and they had coffee around the corner at a little Italian café, her interview with a paedophile all but forgotten. It was weeks later, after the murder of Johnny Loubuto, when allegations of money laundering hit the media that she put the pieces together. She confronted Toby, who often casually stayed the night. “Are you a part of this shit?” she accused. He had gathered up his things and left the apartment without a word, and she had never laid eyes on him since. The police had questioned everyone he had ever known. It was rumoured that he had moved Loubuto’s entire wealth to his own offshore account as soon as the old man was murdered. He remained a very, very wanted man. Not only were the police searching for him but so was the dangerous and unforgiving Loubuto family.

She quickly typed up the email, specifying exactly what she was after and hit send. She knew that after this, Toby would change his number and deactivate the email account. She had a very small window of opportunity to get his help and, in that moment, decided that the risk was worth it. Sitting back, she again went over the phone call from Surin. Shaking her head, she couldn’t help but feel that she was on a wild-goose chase of her own.

28

The town of North East in Cecil County was a meagre fifty-six-minute drive up the I-95, but to Surin Elliott, it was worlds away. They had been driving for over thirty minutes before she finally spoke.

“It’s a small town,” she said apologetically.

Parker turned and looked at her. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this,” he replied.

She looked at him quickly, returning her gaze to the road. “I’m just saying, small towns, small minds.”

He laughed. “I’m pretty sure that’s not entirely correct.”

Surin sighed. “Look, I grew up in this town.” She glanced in the rear-view mirror as a truck tore past them. “They don’t see me as Surin, the detective. I’m Surin, the cheerleader, Surin, the deserter.” She smiled sadly. “I haven’t been back in years.”

Parker waited. He could sense how nervous she was. “It’s an hour away, Elliott.”

She laughed loudly, realising how dramatic she was sounding. “That’s only geography, Parker.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “What about your mum and dad?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “They visit me all the time. I have a great guest bedroom, as you know.” She smirked. “They enjoy the trip — Mum gets a pedi and Dad catches up with his old boys in blue.” She smiled half-heartedly. “This town, it’s my past, every time I come here, I don’t even recognise the girl they talk about.”

Parker shifted in his seat. “Well, I for one can’t wait to meet your parents,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “What did you go back for the last time?” he continued.

“My big brother’s wedding,” she answered. “I literally drove in, donned a hideous pastel yellow bridesmaid dress, clinked my glass and left.”

Parker snorted. “Wow, that bad?”

Surin shrugged. “Half the town was at the ceremony. I felt like I had made the necessary appearance and got out of there.”

Parker wound down the window and took a deep breath of fresh air. Closing his eyes, he conjured images of his own hometown and smiled fondly. “I gotta say, you’re not really selling it, Surin.” He lazily manoeuvred the window back in place and looked over at her. Her eyes were again focused on the road ahead, her hands steady on the wheel, and she laughed.

“No, I don’t suppose I am.”

The exit sign came into view, and he watched as her body visibly tensed. She slowed the car and indicated off the highway.