Chapter 31 - Saint

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Saint Botero (Male P.O.V)

October 24, 2074

Not a word passed between Quinton and me as we crossed the parking deck, but the echoing of our footsteps and muffled shouts kept things from being completely silent. And that wouldn't change until we escaped the watchful gazes of the two security guards standing at the back door. Neither of us wanted to risk them overhearing our conversation and tipping off Cromwell of our suspicions. There were too many lives at stake.

Quinton's phone rang as we neared his black SUV.

"Detective Sharpe," he answered after pulling it from his pocket.

There was a long pause as he listened tentatively to whatever the caller said before he delivered a swift kick to the rear tire and shouted, "Goddamn it!"

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He briefly closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. "Detective Adler just discovered another four people that know the players are missing."

"Shit! That's five now."

"Wrong."

My stomach dropped, and I dreaded the words that left his mouth next.

"It's nine."

"Nine?!"

"Yeah, she texted me about the others while talking with Cromwell. And so far, all of them are relatives, friends, and significant others of different players. And I get the feeling there will be at least six more."

"Oh, God." I breathed out, pressing my back against the car as my head dropped to my chest.

This was ludicrous. It honestly felt like we were playing catch-up. And if we didn't change things fast, it would be game over for everyone.

I slowly lifted my head. "If so, then that must be how they forced them to play."

"Yep."

My eyes went to the guards as they stepped outside, stopping a few inches shy of the curb. A few whispered words passed between them as they boldly stared at us. Nothing was intimidating about the two middle-aged rent-a-cops, and I could easily take them with one hand tied behind my back. But since they were just doing their job, I ignored them.

"Cromwell's got to be behind this, Quinton. Fifteen of his player's faces and names got revealed, and the world watched most of them get killed by fucking robots and whatever the fuck else, and he's planning another game. That can't be a co-"

"Wait, wait, wait." He moved at an inhuman speed until he stood in front of me. His eyes roamed over my face, and the moment he saw the dark shadows underneath my eyes, his expression changed into one of concern. Like him, sleep had eluded me over the past few days, but unlike him, I was better at hiding it. Until now, it seemed. "Let's talk in the car."

I nodded curtly.

Quinton quickly unlocked the doors, and as soon as we entered the vehicle, I continued, "Please don't try and tell me I'm wrong. I-"

"Saint, stop." He slipped the key into the ignition and let it hang there as he turned to face me. "I don't think you're wrong."

"You don't?" I asked incredulously.

I honestly thought he would still have some reservations about him being guilty since there were still a few unanswered questions surrounding this case.

"No. I think he created this live version of the game to get the investors interested. But the problem is we can't accuse him of this without proof, or he'll just lawyer up."

"Proof? That could take weeks, months, or hell, even years to get Quinton! Abella and the others don't have that kind of time. We need to find them before the next round. And that could be any day now."

"I know, but how? We don't have much to go on that could provide insight into their location."

"Can we talk to Lexi? Maybe she can help us."

"No, it's too risky. We got lucky once by finding out about the investors, but I don't think it'll work a second time. And she could accidentally tip him off or something."

"What about searching his properties?"

"We would need a warrant. And I honestly don't think he's dumb enough to keep them on his property. Our best bet is to put a tail on him. And pray we catch him in the act."

"Okay, let's do that."

"Alright, I'll call Detective Adler and have her do it."

"There's no need. I'm already on it." Patricia's voice sounded from the center console.

I slowly looked down at Quinton's phone and stared at it in utter shock and disbelief. Quinton's face mirrored my own.

"Patricia?" He asked, clearly forgetting he had been speaking to her before getting in the car.

"Yeah?"

"You heard that?"

"Yep. Every word." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she said, "But what I want to know is if he was working with Finch and Irwin?"

"I don't know, but if he was, I'll make sure he spends the rest of his miserable life rotting behind bars." Quinton's hands tightened around the steering wheel as he said each word.

"Not if I get to him first."

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