Proof of Life (The Potentate of Atlanta #4) - Hailey Edwards Page 0,56

he faked the need for a bathroom break and bumped into Ford. “Watch over Hadley for me.”

“You’re leaving?” His eyebrows climbed. “You’ve got a lead.”

“I’ll touch base when I know more.”

“All right.” He pointed behind Midas. “There’s an exit through the kitchen.”

Midas took Ford’s directions and cut through the bustling cooks hunched over their workstations while a man dressed all in white walked the line and barked orders that injected steel into the workers’ spines.

“What are you doing back here?” The head chef flicked his wrist. “The kitchen is for staff only.”

Ignoring the man, which caused his face to mottle, Midas located the door and left.

Had there been time, he would have engaged the man to soothe his ego and ensure his silence, but there was none.

Midas had the Swyft app open and a ride booked before he hit the sidewalk.

The driver pulled up as he began to pace, and he climbed in before the car rolled to a complete stop. Leg bouncing, he counted the seconds as if it would make the recalcitrant Atlanta traffic move faster. This time of night, he had a better chance of reaching the Faraday quicker by car than by foot. But he wished he had opted to run to burn off the nervous energy gnawing on him.

Ares might have been compromised, but it gutted him to question her loyalty.

Using his time wisely, he texted Abbott for a light interrogation on Liz.

>Has Liz been in the clinic lately?

>>Looks like the last time she signed in was five days ago.

>Has she missed any appointments since then?

>>Not that I’m aware of, but I can ask Lisbeth to check.

>Do that.

>>What’s wrong?

>Maybe nothing.

Maybe everything.

With that done, he touched base with his mom to avoid bumping into her in the lobby and wasting precious time on explanations.

>I’m on my way to the Faraday.

>>That was fast. Where’s Hadley?

>At the wake. We have a lead.

>>Do you need backup?

>This is recon. I can handle it.

>>Text if that changes.

>I will.

The temptation to text Hadley an update twitched in his fingers, but he had no news, only worries.

“Have a nice rest of your night.”

Midas flicked his gaze out the windshield and noticed they had reached the Faraday.

“You too.”

He slid out of the car, set his phone to vibrate, and tucked it into his pocket.

“You’re back early,” Hank said from his spot by the door. “And without Hadley.”

Hank was far more perceptive than many gave him credit for, which was one of the reasons Midas had put him on doorman detail. Tonight, he wished Hank was slightly less observant. Then again, if he was right about Liz, he might have inadvertently given them their first real lead on a potential mole.

“I forgot something upstairs.” Midas didn’t owe him an answer, but it was polite, and it alibied him if anyone else saw him hit the elevators and wondered. “Then it’s back to the wake.”

Expression carefully neutral, Hank nodded and opened the door for him.

Voices and laughter reached him when he entered the lobby. The gwyllgi enforcers hadn’t known Boaz or Addie, and without Hadley around, they had turned their wake into a giant pizza party.

The path to the elevators was clear, and he walked it briskly to discourage anyone from interfering with his ground-eating stride. He got lucky. There were no witnesses when he mashed the button for Ares’s floor, and no one stopped the car during its ascent.

The arrival chime sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine, and his inner predator roused to wakefulness as he strode down the hall to the familiar door. He stood there a moment, listening, but heard nothing. He raised his hand to knock, hoping a frazzled Liz would answer with bags under her eyes and spit up on her shirt, but no one came.

The code to enter the apartment was already on his mind, and he mashed it into the keypad.

The light flashed green, the lock turned, and still no one moved on the other side.

Bracing himself for the worst, he eased the door open and began clearing the rooms, one by one.

Liz wasn’t home.

There were no signs of a baby having ever been there.

But there was a laptop that woke at his touch, and its screen flickered to life. No password or pin required. Lazy security for an enforcer, but Ares might have wanted instant access or simply not cared if it was for home or shared use. He cursed at the highlighted video she had watched last on YouTube, a synthesized baby’s cries on an