Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 125

"I prefer to stand, thank you," he said as he reached down to pull a manilla envelope from a leather satchel. "In the late 1980's, I met with a priest in Camaguey. He was a trusted confidante of Salvador Magluta's turned informant for me. We had a working relationship for the past two years, and I trusted the man."

He handed the envelope to me as he continued, "He had just poured me a finger of Dalmore. I swear, Arturo wouldn't shut up about that bottle of scotch Magluta had gifted him. He always sald he was saving it for a special occasion. I should have known something was wrong, but I ignored my instinct. Ironically, that same scotch saved my life. I was taking my first sip when the glass caught the knife meant for my throat. You see, one of his altar boys had snuck up behind me."

He backed away from me and clasped his hands in front of him, waiting for me to take a look at what he'd given me. "Needless to say, that's the last time I've sat down during a meeting and the last time I will ever sit facing away from a point of egress."

Unsure of what to say, I looked from him to Chloe but got nothing from her. I looked back at Henry. "What happened to the priest?"

"He met his God," Psalter said matter-of-factly

I considered asking about the altar boy, but something in Psalter's vacant expression answered my unasked question.

Since he seemed to be waiting for me to look at the contents he handed me, I opened the envelope and pulled out a small collection of papers and photographs. The first was a large picture of a man wearing a button-down shirt, eating lasagna just outside a restaurant with another man sitting across from him.

I immediately recognized him. That scar was hard to miss.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed as the door opened, and the other two entered Chloe's office.

"What is it?" Erin and Chloe both said at the same time.

I held up the image and said, "This is the guy who tried to pull a gun on me this morning!

"Are you sure?" Erin said, walking over to stand behind me and peer over my shoulder.

"Yeah," said. "I won't forget that face anytime soon."

Chloe approached me, and I handed her the photo. "He was in the coffee shop," I said. "Do you recognize him?"

She didn't respond immediately as she stared at the photo. "I didn't see him in the coffee shop," she finally said, "but I feel like I've seen him somewhere before."

"Very likely," Henry said. "He worked for Colin Gerrard."

All four of us looked up at Henry.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you serious?" Helen asked.

"That's it," Chloe sald, as if finally recognizing the face. "I saw him once around the VistaVision building. Roughly two weeks before Gerrard died."

I took the photo back from Chloe. "Do you think this is the guy responsible for my grandpa's death?"

Henry shook his head and said, "Doubtful. He was in the Caymans at the time of your grandfather's death."

"What was he doing there?" Erin asked.

"I haven't been able to piece that together," Henry said, "but he wasn't even in the country, it doesn't mean he didn't have a hand in it, but it does mean that if he played a role, he didn't act alone."

"Wait... why are you showing me this guy? He pulled a gun on me just this morning. Did Chloe fill you in?"

"Hardly," Psalter said, "This is the man who broke into your apartment."

On hearing that, I stood up and began pacing the small office. Had I been wrong about the reason for the break-in? What if he'd been looking for me? What if he'd been trying to get to me for the past week, and I'd been ignorant the entire time?

But then... why trash my apartment if that wasn't his goal? He certainly hadn't been quiet about it. It didn't sound like the actions of someone whose only goal was to assassinate me.

I turned to look at Henry. "Do you know why he broke in?"

Henry shook his head and said, "Not that I've been able to determine. Nothing has been reported missing. In light of this new information, it's possible he was looking for you and trashed your apartment to cover that fact up." Henry looked doubtful at that prospect. "It seems unlikely because he could have simply left without you knowing he'd been there if he were competent."

"The other theory is that he could have been searching for something of your grandfather's that isn't easy to locate. Perhaps it's something in a safety deposit box that no one is aware of." He arched an eyebrow at me, fixing me with a deadpan expression. "I don't suppose your grandfather left you any sort of secret message or anything. Perhaps a puzzle box you have to solve, revealing some grand mystery?"

I glanced at Chloe again. Was this guy serious?

Looking back at Henry, I shook my head.

"Well, I'll continue to look into it," he said, gesturing to the rest of the stack I'd left on the desk when I started pacing. "If you please,"

I started sifting through the papers along with Erin and Helen. There was a file on the gunman, naming him as Charles Edgar Cartwright. According to the information, he was fifty-four and had served time in prison for several offenses-assault, grand theft auto, larceny, and murder. It went on to state that Cartwright had been sentenced to two life terms but had been released for good behavior and 'extenuating circumstances.

"They let this guy out of prison early?" I asked.

"Yes," Henry said. "Your grandfather's doing. I believe it engendered a certain level of loyalty from Cartwright."

"Some loyalty," I muttered. "Murdering the guy who got you out of prison."

"It's possible that he didn't have a hand in the death of Mr. Gerrard," Psalter said.

I sifted through a few other papers, and an image caught my eye.

Another photo of Cartwright lay on the desk. It looked like a still from a CCTV camera, but there was no mistaking the man in the picture. The first thing I noticed was the time stamp on the upper right corner of the image it had been taken two hours after the break-in.

In the image, he was talking to someone. Someone I knew very well.

I looked up at my lawyer and said, "Helen, what the fuck is Ashlee doing talking to this guy?"