Chương 9
"You saw me?" he finally asked.
Marcus breathed out slowly.
"In the picture."
"That doesn't answer the question."
"I know."
Daniel closed his eyes.
"Marcus."
"The person in the picture looked like you."
"Looked like me?"
"Same jacket."
Daniel looked down.
The gray jacket was hanging over the back of the chair.
He had worn it the night before.
"When was the picture taken?"
"I told you."
"No."
His voice hardened.
"You told me the picture was taken last night."
"Yeah."
"That's not what I asked."
Marcus went quiet.
Daniel hated that silence more than any answer.
"When was it taken?"
"Nine forty-two."
Daniel checked the time on his phone.
Almost eleven.
His stomach tightened.
At nine forty-two, he had been home.
At least he thought he had.
He looked toward the coffee table.
The note was still there.
The opened envelope was still there.
His memory of the previous night came back in pieces.
The grocery bag.
The kitchen.
The phone call with Maya.
The couch.
Nothing after that.
Nothing that explained how he could be in two places.
"Send me the picture."
"I can't."
Daniel stood up.
"What do you mean you can't?"
"I mean I don't have it anymore."
The answer landed strangely.
"Why?"
"Because I deleted it."
"Why would you delete evidence?"
"Because I panicked."
Marcus's voice dropped.
"I saw your face in that hallway and I thought I was losing my mind."
Daniel walked to the window.
Cars moved below the apartment building.
People carried coffee.
Someone walked a dog that stopped to sniff the sidewalk.
The world continued with an almost insulting normality.
"Did you show anyone?"
"No."
"Did anyone else see it?"
"I don't know."
"Marcus."
"I don't know."
The frustration returned.
Daniel pressed his fingers against his forehead.
"Where did you get it?"
"An email."
"From who?"
"Unknown address."
"Did you save the email?"
A pause.
"Yes."
"Forward it to me."
"I already did."
Daniel looked at his phone.
Nothing had arrived.
Then a notification appeared.
One new email.
No subject.
No sender.
Only an attachment.
He opened it.
The picture loaded slowly.
At first, he saw the office hallway.
The same cheap carpet.
The same framed employee awards on the wall.
The same dent near the corner where a delivery cart had hit the drywall months earlier.
Then he saw the figure.
A man standing outside his office.
The image was blurry.
The face was turned away.
But the jacket was his.
The posture was his.
The height looked right.
Daniel zoomed in.
The image became a collection of pixels.
Nothing more.
"Daniel?"
He did not answer.
"Daniel, are you there?"
"Yeah."
"What do you see?"
He stared at the screen.
"I see someone trying to make me think I was there."
Marcus was quiet.
"That means you don't think it was you."
"No."
"Why?"
Daniel looked at the picture again.
Because there was something wrong.
Something small.
Something he would have missed if he had not spent years looking at documents where one misplaced number could change everything.
"The jacket."
"What about it?"
"I wasn't wearing it like that."
Marcus waited.
Daniel zoomed closer.
"The collar."
"What about the collar?"
"It is folded down."
"So?"
"I always fold it up."
Marcus gave a tired laugh.
"That is your evidence?"
"No."
Daniel looked at the picture.
"It's just the first thing that tells me someone is pretending to be me."
The laugh disappeared.
A few minutes later, Marcus came over.
He looked worse than Daniel felt.
His hair was uncombed.
His shirt had a coffee stain near the sleeve.
He carried no briefcase.
That alone felt unusual.
Marcus always carried a briefcase.
Even on weekends.
"You look terrible," Daniel said.
Marcus looked at him.
"You look like someone who hasn't slept."
"I haven't."
"Good."
Daniel frowned.
"Good?"
"Means we're both being honest."
It was the closest thing to a joke either of them had made in days.
Neither of them smiled.
Marcus sat at the table.
He placed his phone beside the note.
"I should have told you before."
Daniel remained standing.
"About seeing someone copy files?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you?"
Marcus rubbed his hands together.
"Because I was trying to protect myself."
The answer was too simple.
Daniel expected an excuse.
That honesty made it harder to respond.
"From what?"
"From becoming part of it."
"You already were."
"I know."
Marcus looked down.
"That's what scared me."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Daniel sat.
"Tell me everything."
Marcus looked toward the kitchen.
The unopened groceries were still there.
"You really bought milk last night?"
Daniel looked over.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You notice that now?"
"No."
Marcus shook his head.
"I don't know why I said that."
Daniel almost laughed.
Almost.
"Because your brain is trying to find something normal."
Marcus looked at him.
"Maybe."
The admission stayed between them.
Then Marcus began.
Rachel had started looking into the system three weeks before she disappeared.
At first, she thought it was an ordinary audit problem.
Missing approvals.
Strange access times.
Documents opened and closed without clear explanations.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing that would make people panic.
That was why she kept investigating.
Because problems that looked small were often the easiest to hide.
"She asked me about access logs," Marcus said.
"What did you tell her?"
"That I didn't know anything."
"Did you?"
Marcus looked away.
"I knew some things."
Daniel waited.
Marcus swallowed.
"I knew there were accounts being used that shouldn't have existed."
The room felt smaller.
"Whose accounts?"
"I don't know."
"Marcus."
"I don't."
He looked angry now.
Not at Daniel.
At himself.
"They used old employee credentials."
"How old?"
"Some from people who left years ago."
Daniel leaned back.
"And nobody noticed?"
"Someone noticed."
"Rachel?"
Marcus nodded.
"She noticed."
A notification appeared on Daniel's phone.
Unknown number.
A message.
Stop looking for the person in the picture.
Find the person who took it.
Daniel showed Marcus.
Marcus read it twice.
Then he placed the phone down.
"That's different."
"How?"
"Before, they were trying to scare you away."
"And now?"
Marcus looked toward the window.
"Now they're giving you a direction."
Daniel did not like that.
People who threatened him wanted something.
People who guided him wanted something too.
The difference was that guidance could feel like help.
And help could be more dangerous.
"Whoever sent this knows what we're doing," Daniel said.
Marcus nodded.
"Yeah."
"They know where I am."
"Probably."
"They know you."
Marcus looked at the table.
"Probably."
Daniel noticed the hesitation.
"What?"
Marcus did not answer.
"Marcus."
"I might have made another mistake."
Daniel stared at him.
"What mistake?"
Marcus reached into his pocket.
He pulled out a small flash drive.
"I took this from the office."
Daniel looked at it.
"When?"
"The night Rachel disappeared."
The room went silent.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't know what was on it."
"And now?"
Marcus placed it on the table.
"Now I think someone knows I have it."
Daniel looked at the flash drive.
Then at Marcus.
Then at the message.
For the first time in days, the fear felt different.
Not because it was smaller.
Because it finally had a shape.
"What happens if we open it?" Daniel asked.
Marcus looked at the device.
"I don't know."
That answer would have bothered Daniel before.
Now it sounded like the most truthful thing anyone had said.
He picked up the flash drive.
His hand stayed there for a moment.
Then he pulled his laptop closer.
Marcus watched him.
"You sure?"
Daniel looked at the blank screen.
"No."
The laptop powered on.
The familiar startup sound filled the apartment.
A sound he had heard hundreds of times.
A sound that had never meant anything.
Until now.
"I think that's the problem," Daniel said.
"What?"
"We keep waiting until we're sure."
Marcus said nothing.
Daniel connected the drive.
A single folder appeared.
No name.
No date.
Only one file inside.
Rachel_Final.
Neither man touched it.
They just stared.
Because both of them understood the same thing.
May you like
Whatever was inside had been left for someone to find.
And whoever left it had expected them to open it.
