KILLSHOT // [H.S]

026. FIVE LETTER WORD

026. FIVE LETTER WORD

Harry had a secret in his pocket.

One even his closest confidants didn't know.

Hiding something from them was something he hadn't done in a long time - a very long time. Secrets were part of his old self - his former self. A version of him he was fighting to keep away every single fucking day. It was torturous to do so - to keep him away. But not to the level of torture he faced all those years ago.

Besides, it wasn't like this one was going to his personal vault. He would tell them soon enough. He just needed to wait until the moment was right.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Colson briefly looked over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the wall. "Enough is enough, Harry," he said, tacking another image to the wall. "You've been avoiding us all week. Your office was the only place we knew this would work."

Tearing his eyes from the sight, Harry turned to the bar cart and poured himself a drink. He knew that time was running up, and patience was growing increasingly thin. But for the first time, he didn't want to know the truth.

Because the truth had the power to ruin everything.

"What if she comes by?" He knew she wouldn't.

"Kip's watching the camera at Sal's," Colson explained, nodding to the kid sitting on the couch, "And we'll get notified if she clocks out."

Harry took a sip from his glass.

"Shall we start? Or do you want to keep bitching about our setup?"

"What's with the attitude tonight, sweetheart?" Resting his palms against the desk, Harry watched his friend with a careful eye. Met with silence, he added, "Your panties are in a twist over something. What is it? Hmm?"

"Your little girlfriend is a fucking liar and has got you so far up her ass, and you can't see it, that's what."

She might like that, actually.

Harry looked over at Dallas, who had been unusually quiet. "And do you also think she's a... fucking liar?"

"I don't know," he admitted with a shrug. "I would like to think she isn't. But it doesn't look too good."

Collapsing in his chair, Harry motioned to the wall of photos. "Then let's see what you've got."

"We were able to confirm what she told you," Colson said as he walked up to the board. "Rory Young. Born October thirty-first. Daughter of Aidan Young. Mother did skip out on her; no relationship there." He pointed to the X crossing out her face. "Grew up in a middle-to-lower class area with her grandparents and father. Her Grandfather died of a heart attack when she was little, and the Grandmother died of natural causes a few years later. Her uncle was next - he died of an overdose. And then, Aidan died in a car crash a few days before her thirteenth birthday."

"It checks out with what she said then. Yes?"

"It checks out," Colson confirmed. "School records confirm she's been in the city ever since she got moved to be with her foster mother."

"Straight A student," Dallas interjected. "You finally caught one with a brain there, Haroldina."

"For the most part, everything seems fine. She's just some annoying, know-it-all brat that we've had to deal with. But this is where things get... odd." Colson pointed to the map. "Her current apartment and all her previous ones have all been short leased. All under different names." He pinned more photos on the board.