Chapter 390

The next morning, a black Passat pulled up in front of the fanciest six-star hotel in downtown Clearford. A dark-skinned bellhop quickly stepped up and opened the door with a respectful nod. Out came Ethan Shaw and Andrew Abbott. Both looked scruffy, unshaven, and dressed like beach drifters in loud floral shirts—totally out of place against the sleek luxury of the hotel. “This way, please,” Lillian Davenport’s assistant led them through the opulent lobby straight to the elevators. She pressed the button for the 23rd floor. Ethan and Andrew exchanged a brief glance. Years of working together had taught them how to read each other’s minds. No need for words. Be ready for anything. Earlier that morning, their landlord told them someone had already paid off their outstanding rent. Surprise number one. Then came surprise number two: they were being asked to vacate. While they were still shoving their stuff into bags, a man dressed like a corporate assistant showed up at the door. “Miss Dav