At the stairwell, Joy swung open a metal door and the strong scent of pine cleaner hit my nose. But there was a hint of something else, something gross, like urine. I held my breath as we ascended the stairs. Thankfully, by the time we reached the second floor, the crisp smell of newsprint overwhelmed everything else. Breathing easier, I thanked Joy for doing this with me.
“Oh, I’m not staying,” she announced.
“You’re not?” I glanced around the dimly lit hallway and frowned. I didn’t care to spend time alone in a building that looked like nothing had changed in decades, where the stairwell reeked of urine. It was gross and it was creepy. Who knew what lurked in the corners? Rats, homeless men.
Joy, noticing my expression, laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll be safe. I’m here by myself all the time.”
“Okay,” I muttered, still not thrilled, but I had no choice but to trust her on this.
She opened an unmarked door and led me through a messy office area. We passed several desks and then stepped into a storage room filled with towers of newspapers and file boxes stacked to the ceiling. “How far back do you need to go?” Joy asked.
Crap, this could take forever. And I didn’t have forever. In fact, taking into account the time it had taken to get here, I probably only had an hour at most before Adam returned to the hotel.
Joy cleared her throat, garnering my attention. “Oh, sorry,” I said. “Probably about six… I don’t know, maybe six and a half years.”
“Hmm…” Joy appeared to think it over. “Over here,” she said at last, motioning for me to follow her to a corner of the room where a tall stack—eight boxes—stood. “These are the ones you’ll need to go through.” There were dates written in black marker on the sides. From what I could see, it looked like Joy had led me to the right spot.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Sure,” she replied. “And here…” She held out the keys she’d used to open the doors. They were attached to one of those springy bracelet things. This one was pastel pink, and I stared at it until Joy shook it. “Come on, take it. I am tired and I want to go home.”
“Are you sure?” I asked as I accepted the keys.
Joy rolled her eyes. “Look, it’s not like there’s anything here worth stealing.” Her eyes appraised me. “And let’s face it…you hardly fit the profile of a thief.”
Well, it was nice to hear I inspired such trust in some people. I mumbled a little “thanks.”
“Just make sure you lock both doors. And don’t forget to leave the keys in the drop box out front. Once you drop them in, though, you need a different key to get them out, so be sure you really are finished here. I’ll come by later to get them, so no one will ever know you were here.”
I promised to follow her instructions and she left. I shook my head. What a cute girl. She may have sounded unpleasant on the phone, but she was actually very nice.
With a deep and fortifying breath, I lowered the box from the top of the pile to the floor, flipped off the lid, and began rummaging through the old papers. Unfortunately, they weren’t in exact order. Figures. I’d have to go through the entire stack, look through every box. But what choice did I have? Just had to hurry, right?
With my eye on the time, I went through the boxes as quickly as I could. It wasn’t until I reached the fifth box down that I hit the jackpot. It contained the newspapers from the year I was looking for, the month, too. I flipped through the musty, yellowed editions until I saw the exact one I was seeking.
I kneeled on the floor, paged through the various sections. A familiar article caught my eye. Not the one about Adam but one of the others I recalled seeing on the same page.
This was it, the moment of truth. The paper shook in my hand.
Closing my eyes, I breathed in deep, exhaled…breathed in again, exhaled. I opened my eyes and slowly scanned to the bottom left-hand corner. And there it was—the article detailing Adam’s stock trade.
The words blurred as tears filled my eyes. But they weren’t tears of joy as I had hoped. Sadly, it appeared Ami was telling the truth. In this version—the real version—there was no mention of insider trading, no details of an SEC investigation. Here was the original of the copy Ami claimed was the real deal. And it was real—it matched the one she’d sent, word for word.
And that meant only one thing: Adam had lied.
Chelsea had not been blackmailing him with the threat of going to the SEC. But she’d had something on him, hadn’t she? Something so terrible he’d stayed with her, even after she cheated on him, basically right in front of his face. This secret was something so horrific the threat of it being revealed had led Adam to even agree to marry the blackmailing wench. But it obviously wasn’t an illegal insider-trading scheme Chelsea had held over Adam.
I needed to find out what it was, but I had only one source at this point—Ami. I knew she’d never tell me outright the things she knew. That wasn’t how she rolled. She was going to make me play her game, take me along for the ride. But if Adam’s future really was in jeopardy, then I had no choice but to play her game, however twisted it might become. I’d have to try to solve the puzzle as Ami doled out the pieces. Great, just great.
In a daze
