I leaned back, thinking. Jenkins was sick—sure. But how the hell did the mole know he wouldn't be in the room? Jenkins didn't leave his station normally. Maybe the mole chatted with Adam beforehand. Maybe he learned Jenkins wasn't working. Maybe he planned it around that. Fuck… maybe Jenkins was the suspect?
Definitely worth checking.
I texted Nala that I needed to follow up on something and got up. As I headed to the elevators, I glanced back. She'd just read my message. She looked up, caught my eye, and mouthed: 'Good luck.'
I gave her a nod and stepped inside the elevator, hitting the ground floor.
A few seconds later, the doors slid open. I walked through the lobby and toward the entrance, spotting Adam standing guard—chest puffed up, gun holstered at his side like he was posing for a magazine cover.
"Mr. Marlowe," he said as I approached. "Sorry, I can't give you your phone yet if that's what you're here for."
