I nodded. “Thank you for your time.”

Abigail escorted me to the door without another word. As soon as the door closed, I glanced over my shoulder at it. I could feel her eyes on me through the peephole, so I kept walking.

I waited until I was back in my car before calling Chelsea. She picked up, her voice cautiously optimistic as she greeted me with her usual “yo.”

“I need you to do your thing,” I said. “Abigail Grennan. She has a storage unit somewhere, and I want to check it out. Can you find it for me?”

“Faster than you think,” she said. “We should meet up for dinner.”

“Not hungry,” I muttered, ignoring the growling in my stomach. “I need some time to think.”

“Tex, you don’t sound good,” she said, her voice strained. “Please, let’s meet up for dinner, and we can talk about whatever’s going on. Maybe I can help you figure it out.”

I loved Chelsea, but I wanted to be on my own for now. My mind couldn’t sift through the details if I had to talk to someone and put on a brave face, pretending I wasn’t scrambled and lost. And so far, I was very lost.

Brycen Grennan was presumed missing, but his sister thought he was dead. Was he? Or was he simply gone? Abigail said he liked to run away, to disappear. Two years was a long time to wander, but I would, too, if I had a mobster on my ass. Especially if it was after that photo was taken where Brycen looked as if he’d been beaten up pretty badly. Maybe he was smart enough to go and stay gone.

“Tex. I’m worried about you,” Chelsea said. “Whatever this is, you should drop it and move on.”

“Have you reviewed the hard drive yet?”

“No,” she muttered. “I’m trying, but a lot of it is in code. He was smart enough to encrypt damn near everything or have someone else do it.”

“How long do you think it’ll take you to get through it?”

“I’m not sure if I should.”

I paused and gripped the steering wheel. “What?”

“You’re getting obsessed,” she said evenly. “I don’t want to be part of the reason you spiral.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Just do it, Chelsea. Or give it back, and I’ll find someone who can do their fucking job.”

“Fine. Jerk.”

She hung up, and I stared at the screen. Great. On top of feeling sick, I felt like an asshole too. I thumped my head against the steering wheel. I’ll apologize to her later. I was so close to figuring out what was going on, but I needed more. Learning about Brycen was a pet project. I had no idea if I could pin it on Enzo. Or if it would be enough. I had to keep digging.

I was so close to making detective I could taste it. One big case, and I would be there. I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tension that made them tight. But it stayed there like a stone making my chest constrict and my skin feel tight.