Parted by Death

PARTED BY DEATH CAROLINE FARDIG Copyright © 2023 Caroline Fardig. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Severn River Publishing www.SevernRiverBooks.com This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. ISBN: 978-1-64875-325-1 (Paperback) ISBN: 978-1-64875-326-8 (Hardback) CONTENTS Also by Caroline Fardig Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Also by Caroline Fardig Acknowledgments About the Author ALSO BY CAROLINE FARDIG Ellie Matthews Novels Bitter Past An Eye for an Eye Dead Sprint Parted by Death Relative Harm To find out more about Caroline Fardig and her books, visit severnriverbooks.com/authors/caroline-fardig To my son, William PROLOGUE Victory. He celebrated by scarfing two handfuls of Cheetos and pounding a Red Bull. Using his favorite shirt to wipe the orange dust from his fingers, he saved his findings on two flash drives—one for his client and one for himself. Nothing wrong with a little insurance. He’d had a bad feeling about this mission for days, especially once his client had to get a new email account after the old one had been compromised. His work had gone off without a hitch, like any other cyberattack he’d ever orchestrated: infiltrate the target, find all the skeletons in the proverbial closet, and get out without being noticed. But having to sift through this particular information sickened even him, and he’d seen some messed-up shit. He fired off an email signaling he was finished with his latest hack job, being purposely vague about the specifics, as always. Email servers were notoriously easy to hack into, especially when dealing with amateurs on the other end, so the less said, the better. He did, however, make it clear that he’d gone the extra mile and had a treasure trove of dark secrets to share. He put on his headset and dived into his preferred world. In Xanthe’s Quest, he was Rex, general of one of the largest guilds in the game. His character was his complete opposite. Rex was a mountain of a man nearly impossible to beat in hand-to-hand combat, not some scrawny introvert largely ignored by the world. Rex was the ultimate badass sculpted meticulously by his unbeatable gaming skills and countless hours of time. Once he’d greeted his fellow online players, he’d only had time to walk Rex to the closest pub to meet his hunting party for a tankard of mead before his real-world phone interrupted him. It was a reply to his email. He briefly considered waiting until tomorrow to open it, but then he remembered how much he wanted that sweet new gaming chair he’d seen online, which this job would more than pay for. The sooner he turned over his findings, the sooner he could come back, splurge to overnight himself an ergonomic throne fit for a king and get lost in his preferred world. The email read, Sounds like you hit the motherlode. I need the info tonight. Bring it now. Groaning aloud, he issued a quick apology to his fellow online players for having to step away so soon, ripped the headphones off, grabbed one of the flash drives, and stowed the other away for safekeeping. He hated being summoned and ordered to run across town at a moment’s notice, but that’s how the agreement worked, and he was well compensated for it. Maybe this late-night delivery and the extra time he’d invested to wade through all the information would earn him a hefty bonus. He arrived at the darkened building in record time and parked in the small rear parking lot. He began knocking on the back door as he usually did, but it swung open as his knuckles made contact. That was odd. Usually a pretty lady met him at the door and wordlessly exchanged an envelope full of cash for his flash drive. Sometimes this cloak-and-dagger stuff seemed a bit ridiculous to him. But considering the secrets he’d unearthed, especially this time, maybe it was necessary for the safety of everyone. He entered the building, calling a “Hello!” down the dark hall. No response. “Anyone here?” Still hearing no response, he blew out a disgusted breath. “Hey, I brought the flash drive with the info you said you needed tonight.” Again, nothing. Angered, he stomped on down the hallway, griping to himself, “If I wasted time and gas driving over here for nothing…” As he passed an open doorway, grumbling as he went, he slowed and glanced in but saw nothing. Suddenly, a hard shove from behind had him sprawled out on the floor. “What the hell?” he croaked, tears springing to his eyes as his knees and right wrist exploded in searing pain from his fall. A wrist injury was the last thing he needed. If he couldn’t type, he couldn’t work. Before he could get his bearings and raise his head to figure out what was going on, whoever had knocked him down gave him a swift kick in the ribs, shooting a racking pain through his torso. Moaning in agony, he curled into a fetal position, his only defense to stave off any further attack. A low voice growled next to his ear, “Hand over the information.” He shoved a shaking hand in