Conrad Voss reclined on a chaise by the pool, the water lit from beneath in a soft sapphire glow. His shirt was unbuttoned, sleeves rolled, a glass of vintage Bordeaux in his hand.
His phone buzzed. A private line. He didn't even glance at the screen. He just lifted it to his ear, voice calm, bored.
"Talk."
"Sir," the gravelly voice of his head of security came through, faint static on the line. "We've checked every corner. Questioned professors, classmates, neighbors. Most of it comes back neat, like before. But…"
Conrad's eyes narrowed slightly, his free hand tapping once against the glass. "But?"
"There was one account. A former classmate. Swears he remembers something. Said there was a rumor that Victor might've been on something during his time at school. Hard drugs, specifically."
A low hum rumbled in Conrad's chest, neither approval nor dismissal. "Rumor?"
