Wildfire (Hidden Legacy #3)(70)

Going to see Edward in the hospital. Leon’s with me. Be careful.

We will.



I texted Arabella. What’s going on with you two?

Alessandro Sagredo followed Catalina on Instagram. She’s freaking out.



Who the heck is Alessandro Sagredo and why did his name sound familiar?

I pulled my laptop closer and typed in the name. Alessandro Sagredo, second son of House Sagredo, Antistasi Prime . . . Oh. He was the Italian Prime the Office of Records was bringing in to test Catalina’s magic.

So he followed her on Instagram. What’s the big deal? He’s going to test her in the trials. Tell her it’s nothing weird.

She’s FREAKING out. I’m trying to calm her down. I may have to get wine. Or pot. Can I buy some pot?

No.

It’s medicinal.

No pot or I tell Mom.



Leon reappeared, wearing a loose blue hoodie. He was lean bordering on skinny, and the sweatshirt hung on his sparse frame. He could’ve hidden a bazooka under there and I wouldn’t be able to tell.

I fixed him with my serious stare. “You’re going as my backup. I don’t expect trouble, but if it happens, you shoot only when I give you the order. If you fire before I give you permission, I’ll never take you with me again, and I’ll make sure you don’t get anywhere close to a gun for the next year and a half. Do we understand each other?”

Leon frantically nodded.

“Good.”



The head of Edward Sherwood’s guard detail stared at me. He was a stocky, muscular man who looked like he could run through a wall, and he was doing his best to be intimidating. I had a feeling I was supposed to wilt under that stare.

“We won’t be surrendering our firearms,” I told him.

“Then you won’t see Mr. Sherwood.”

“Please ask him if he will see us anyway. This matter concerns his brother.”

“You’re not getting into that hospital room armed,” he said.

“The last time I saw Mr. Sherwood, I was armed, and I put myself between him and the creature that was trying to eat him.”

“We’re aware of your role, Ms. Baylor. House Sherwood is grateful for your assistance.”

It was time to pull out the big guns. “Before I arrived to the incident that resulted in this situation, my associate called to House Sherwood and informed your head of security that we believed Rynda Sherwood was in danger. We were told to mind our own business.”

The guard’s ice-cold composure cracked a little. “That person is no longer employed by House Sherwood.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. It’s very disheartening when you try to offer important information only to be brushed off. Please ask Edward if he would see us anyway. It’s important and urgent.”

The man stared at me. A switch clicked in his head. That’s right, the last time your people blew me off, your Prime was hurt and your chief of security was fired.

“Please wait here.” He turned around and walked down the hallway, leaving us in the waiting room under the watchful eyes of a man and a woman in House Sherwood uniforms.

Leon winked at them. They remained stoic.

My phone chimed. Cornelius. I answered the call. “Yes?”

“We’ve gone through Brian’s receipts,” Cornelius said. “On December 21st, he stopped at Millennium Coffee House. Brian doesn’t drink coffee or tea. Millennium Coffee House is located near the intersection of Gulf and the 610. He drove fifteen miles. There are sixteen coffee shops that are closer to BioCore.”

It made no sense for him to drive fifteen miles in Houston traffic for a coffee he doesn’t drink.

“Was he alone?”

“No. The barista remembered him because he ordered a fruit tea and then made a fuss because she wrote Bryan with a Y instead of Brian with an I on his cup. He met a man there. They sat outside and spoke for about forty-five minutes. She could see through the window. We showed her some pictures, and she picked Sturm out.”

And the pieces had fallen into place. “Thank you.”

“Does that help?”

“It’s exactly what we needed.”

“Fantastic. Here is Bernard.”

“Nevada?” my cousin said into the phone.

“Yes?”

“Bug and I tracked Brian’s logins. Someone used his credentials to log into his home network on December 21st. According to their emails and Rynda’s Facebook, they spent the evening with her mother-in-law and Edward.”

“Is there any way to trace what was accessed? Did they copy anything?”

“No. To a computer system, opening a file and copying it is pretty much the same thing. It doesn’t record the difference. All I can tell you is someone who wasn’t Brian Sherwood had complete access to his network.”

“Thank you.”

“We’re going home.”

“Be careful.”

“We will.”

I hung up.

The head of security emerged from the hallway. “He’ll see you now.”

Edward lay in a hospital bed, his skin only a couple of shades darker than the stark white of the sheets. Sunlight streamed through the open drapes, falling on a beautiful bonsai tree on the table next to him. A compact woman, her hair pulled back into a severe ponytail, waited discreetly in the corner, watching me and Leon like a hawk. She carried a Beretta. Leon parked himself next to her, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. She gave him a once-over and dismissed him.