Free Both Ends Burning (Whistleblower Trilogy Book 3) by Jim Heskett

notification of a hacking attempt, and someone calls Edgar. Then game over.
    I spun and opened the file cabinets behind me. Medical forms, tax returns, standard stuff that anyone shoves in a drawer when you don’t know what else to do with official documents.
    “Shit,” I whispered. “Come on, Edgar. Where do you keep the things you don’t want anyone to know you have? What am I looking for?”
    I checked the drawers of the desk, and the first two contained pens and staplers and paper clips. But the third one was locked. That was a good sign.
    I lifted a gold-plated letter opener from the top of the desk and jammed it into the space above the drawer. Pressed hard, using all my leverage.
    It snapped open. Too loud. I crept to the door and peered out, listened to Edgar and the woman chatting about something. Seemed okay.
    Inside the drawer, I found birth certificates, social security cards, and a key.
    A key.
    Etched into the metal: the word SENTRY. This was a safe key. Of course.
    The most logical place for a safe was either in the garage or in the basement. With the enormity of this mansion, I didn’t even know where to find the garage. So I put everything except for the key back where I found it, then returned to the stairs and took them all the way down into the basement.
    On this floor, I found a huge, unfinished room. Pipes and electrical boxes weaving through the wooden frames in front of the exposed concrete walls.
    Also, stacks of children’s toys, a row of file cabinets, and most odd: a metal thing that looked like the frame of a car. Edgar was a hobbyist, apparently, judging by the car parts arranged all around the frame. But how would he get it out of the basement?
    “Focus, Candle, focus.”
    I walked around the room, searching every nook and cranny. No safe. Then, finally, I spotted a half-sized door in one corner of the room. I ducked down and opened the door and found a black box. A safe. Except it didn’t just have a keyhole, it also had a keypad on the front.
    Shit. Same problem as the password on his computer.
    Except, this time, an idea materialized. I crept back upstairs, pausing in the gym to listen. After a full minute of Edgar’s voice staying at the same level, I went back up to his office, then opened the drawers with the birth certificates. I found the social security cards for Edgar, his wife, and his son. Studied the numbers until I was sure I’d had them memorized, then eased my way back into the basement.
    I sat in front of the safe. Inserted the key, and turned it with no problem.
    I started entering Edgar’s social security number, and the safe beeped at me, flashing a red light after I’d entered the first four digits. So, that told me I needed a four-digit code.
    The last four of the social.
    I tried Edgar’s number first. 2879. Red beep. Tried his wife’s next, 4537. Same red beep. Finally, I tried the last four digits of his son’s social security number.
    0478. Blue beep.
    I pressed the bar down to open it, and inside I saw a series of manila envelopes closed with wax seals, stacks of cash, a small leather-bound journal, and a few pieces of jewelry. No piles of cocaine or heroin, which helped nullify the theory that IntelliCraft sold drugs.
    Then the safe beeped again, and an alarm sounded.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER TEN
     
     
    As the safe alarm blared all around me, I panicked. Reached inside and snatched the journal and the manila envelopes, then slammed the safe shut. As the metal clicked closed, the alarm continued to bellow.
    Blont blont blont .
    Onto my feet. Jumped over the car frame, sprinted to the stairs, then up into the gym room. Heard voices echoing from all around me. I dashed across the spongy mat floor of the room as bile billowed up into my throat. I reached out to open the door, and a split second before my hand touched it, light from the hallway shone under the door. By the time I’d realized it, though, I’d thrown open the door,