Deluca

TWENTY

When Enzo was eleven years old he had already been called a hound dog by many and not for reasons one may expect. He had an uncanny ability to always find out exactly what others wanted. If the price was right, he would hunt someone down to the Mariana Trench if it were necessary.

It was for this very reason Francesco assigned him to get down to the thievery. Enzo had started at all the usual spots, trying his hardest not to have to investigate his last option.

Everything going perfectly smooth for months — years even. Nearly the same time a newcomer from another country comes, everything goes to shit.

It had been a distasteful few hours searching everything he could on Eleanor. With each click, each lead, he had hoped to find a dead end. Ironically enough, he was fond of Eleanor, feeling her to be more of a sister to him than Giselle in such a short amount of time.

It was nice to no longer be the outsider, even if he still was, he had an ally in Eleanor. So of course he was thrilled to learn the mundane life she has lived had turned out to be true.

Not so much as a parking ticket could be found on her. He was mixed with relief and disappointment at still not having completed his task.

It was in passing he had scoured the house for any type of bugs. If there was a mole and it wasn't a person, it had to be a recording of some sort.

With the wedding having just passed, there were many options. In doing so, he had come across a manilla folder hidden away in a random closet.

The folder wasn't a listening device, obviously, but the location of it intrigued him.

Eleanor Shields:

was the name written haphazardly in marker on the suitcases tags? Enzo frown when he opened the folder, and at the same time, he felt his heart sink to his feet.

Less because of the betrayal and more due to how accurate the carefully put-together folder had been. It was months of information saved from someone who could only have witnessed to most of it.

Screenshots of payments with no verifiable funds, constantly moving and shifting. Highlighted marker linking everything together accurately.

News articles composed of random murders, many of people Enzo had recognized himself. It had been virtually an archive of the past four years stopping harshly the year prior.

Eleanor had been here that long, but someone had been watching them closely for at least that time.

And why hand it off to Eleanor?

Something told Enzo he was about to get that answer now, holding tightly to the hand of the culprit and dragging her back into his friend's office.

Eleanor had begun to make an excuse as to how she stumbled into the room but was silent when Enzo slammed the folder on the desk.

Finally, she had managed to get something out, "I can explain."

Enzo gave her a wry chuckle and crossed his arms over his chest, "I am not the one who cares to sit through any explanations. To think I am out here looking for a mole and I find out it's you!"

The look of shock on her face appeared genuine, "Mole? What are you talking about a mole?"

"Who gave you the folder?" Enzo asked, ignoring her question.

"You can't answer my question with a question." She argued.

"Eleanor, if you've read anything in that folder, you would know to not test me," Enzo warned.