Chapter 141: A Lucky Guess

Chapter 141: Chapter 141: A Lucky Guess

Daisy hung up the hotel phone. She turned around and looked directly at Ben, who was sitting up in the uncomfortable desk chair.

"Someone broke into the newsroom last night," Daisy said.

Ben’s tired expression immediately vanished. All traces of morning sleep disappeared, instantly replaced by sharp journalistic focus.

"What did they take?" Ben demanded.

"Apparently, nothing," Daisy answered, still looking confused.

Ben stared at her. "Nothing?"

"That’s exactly what the Chief said," Daisy confirmed.

Ben absolutely did not accept that answer. People didn’t break into major city newsrooms just to look around.

He immediately grabbed his own cell phone and dialed the Editor-in-Chief. The Chief quickly confirmed that no expensive camera equipment, hard drives, or laptops appeared to be missing.

"What about the security footage?" Ben asked roughly.

The Chief sighed heavily through the receiver. "We caught someone leaving the building through the back fire exit at 2:13 a.m. But they were wearing a dark hoodie. The footage isn’t clear enough to identify a face."

Ben gripped his phone tighter.

"Did they go anywhere near my desk?" Ben asked.

There was a heavy pause on the line.

"Yes," the Chief admitted.

That completely got Ben’s attention.

Before they left the hotel for the football club, Ben pulled his thick investigative folder out of his locked briefcase.

He set it on the desk and opened it. He carefully flipped through the pages.

Nothing appeared to be missing. All the old ledgers and interview notes were still there.

But one specific blue folder had been moved from the back to the front.

It wasn’t stolen. It was just moved. Someone had definitely gone through it.

Daisy walked over. "How do you know?"

Ben pointed to the blue folder.

"I always keep this one underneath the heavy financial records," Ben explained quietly.

"Maybe someone accidentally moved it while cleaning," Daisy suggested.

Ben gave her a flat look. "Daisy, nobody accidentally goes through a locked investigative file at two in the morning."

Daisy slowly looked at the folder, then back up at him.

"So someone knows," Daisy said.

Ben nodded slowly. "Someone knows exactly what we’re investigating."

They arrived at the regional football club an hour later.

They walked into the massive, echoing stadium complex and immediately began gathering information.

This was where Zane Kessler entered the picture.

He wasn’t introduced with dramatic, ominous music. He wasn’t hiding in the shadows. He was standing right in the middle of the bright lobby, effortlessly doing his job as the club’s Media Relations Director.

He was incredibly busy. He was talking to two young players, casually joking with a massive security guard, and answering another local journalist’s rapid-fire question all at the exact same time.

He was completely, effortlessly social. He was handsome, confident, and very good at his job.

When he finished talking to the guard, he turned around and finally noticed Daisy holding her professional camera.

"You’re Daisy, right?" Zane asked, walking over with an easy smile.

Daisy looked up, slightly surprised. "Yes."

"I’ve actually seen your work," Zane noted casually.

Daisy raised an elegant eyebrow. "You have?"

"The university championship finals," Zane explained easily. "Your photographs were absolutely everywhere. You captured the exact moment the captain realized they were going to win."

He gestured respectfully toward her heavy camera.

"You’re very good," Zane complimented.

Daisy smiled genuinely. "Thank you."

Zane grinned. "You’re welcome. I prefer complimenting people while they’re actually still around to hear it."

Daisy laughed.

Standing a few feet away, Ben quietly watched the entire exchange.

Later that morning, Daisy started photographing the older, historical section of the stadium.

Zane stood near the wall, watching her work for a few minutes.

"You don’t photograph things the way everyone else does," Zane observed quietly.

Daisy slowly lowered the heavy camera from her eye.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Daisy asked.

"It’s a good thing," Zane answered.

He pointed down the hall toward the massive, glittering glass trophy display.

"Everyone else comes in here and immediately photographs the shiny trophies," Zane explained.

Then, he pointed directly toward the wooden bench Daisy had just spent five minutes photographing.

"You completely ignored the gold," Zane said. "You photographed the deep scratches on the old locker room bench."

Daisy looked down at the digital image on her camera screen.

"They tell a story," Daisy explained softly. "Those scratches are years of nervous players tapping their cleats before big games."

Zane smiled brightly. "Exactly."

That actually caught Daisy completely off guard.

He wasn’t complimenting her just because she was pretty. He wasn’t using a cheap pickup line. He was actually complimenting the specific, unique way her mind worked. He noticed exactly how she saw the world.

Ben noticed it too.

He stood near the doorway, holding his notepad. And he didn’t particularly enjoy exactly how easily Zane Kessler had just made her smile.

Zane proved to be incredibly useful for their investigation.

He cheerfully offered to arrange private interviews with some of the older, former club employees. He knew exactly who used to work at the club years ago. He knew exactly which dusty basement room held the old records. He even knew which former accountant might actually be willing to talk on the record.

Daisy was genuinely impressed.

"You know absolutely everyone here," Daisy noted as they walked down the hall.

Zane laughed easily. "It’s my job."

"You make it look incredibly easy," Daisy complimented.

"That’s also my job," Zane grinned.

Ben finally spoke up from behind them.

"Do you always talk this much?" Ben asked dryly.

Zane stopped walking. He slowly turned around and looked directly at Ben. His easy smile didn’t fade, but his eyes sharpened.

"Only when people are actually listening," Zane replied smoothly.

Daisy actually laughed again.

Ben gave her a completely flat, entirely unimpressed look.

"Don’t encourage him," Ben muttered.

While walking them toward the dark archive area, Zane casually dropped a massive piece of information.

"You’ll want to pull the 2019 financial records," Zane advised casually, pointing down a specific aisle.

Ben stopped walking immediately.

Daisy stopped too.

Zane turned around. "What?"

Ben studied his face incredibly closely.

"Why 2019?" Ben asked, his voice completely level.

Zane smiled easily. "Because that’s when the discrepancy started."

A heavy, absolute beat of silence fell over the aisle.

Daisy slowly looked at Ben.

Ben looked directly into Zane’s eyes.

"Who told you we’re investigating the 2019 records?" Ben asked quietly.

Zane’s friendly expression didn’t change a single fraction. He looked completely relaxed.

"Nobody," Zane answered.

"Then how did you know?" Ben pressed.

Zane shrugged casually. "Lucky guess."

Then, he turned around and kept walking down the aisle, completely unbothered.

Daisy watched his back disappear into the shadows.

"That wasn’t a lucky guess," Daisy whispered.

Ben’s dark eyes remained completely locked onto the spot where Zane had just been standing.

"No," Ben agreed quietly. "It wasn’t."

Ben didn’t wildly accuse him. He was a professional investigative journalist. He needed absolute proof.

Instead, he started quietly asking completely casual questions around the club.

He quickly discovered that Zane had total access to internal communications. He had keys to the old club records. He controlled the media schedules. He even had high-level access to the security information.

That was more than enough to make him incredibly interesting to Ben.

But there was still absolutely no concrete proof that Zane had leaked anything or broken into the city newsroom.

"You don’t trust him," Daisy noted later that afternoon, sitting in the rental car.

"I don’t know him," Ben answered simply.

"That’s not the same thing," Daisy pointed out.

"Exactly," Ben replied.

Later that evening, Daisy was photographing an empty, historical locker room.

Zane walked in holding a clipboard. He walked over to her.

"You really love this," Zane said.

"Photography?" Daisy asked, adjusting her lens.

"Your job," Zane corrected.

Daisy smiled softly. "I do."

Zane studied one of her printed photographs resting on the bench.

"You know what I think?" Zane asked.

"That I’m terrible?" Daisy joked lightly.

"I think you are completely wasted taking photographs for people who only care about the final score," Zane said seriously.

Daisy slowly lowered her camera and looked at him. "What does that mean?"

"You notice absolutely everything around the actual game," Zane explained, gesturing toward her camera. "The emotion. The tension. The quiet moments. That’s incredibly rare."

For perhaps the first time in years, Daisy didn’t have a quick, sarcastic response ready.

"Thanks," Daisy said softly.

From across the locker room, Ben saw the entire exchange.

He wasn’t furiously angry. He didn’t want to punch the wall. He was just quietly watching.

And as he watched them talk, Ben realized something incredibly uncomfortable.

Zane Kessler was actually very good at noticing Daisy.

That night, back in the hotel room, Ben aggressively went through the digital newsroom security footage again.

He slowed the grainy video down frame by frame.

This time, he finally noticed something very small on the person leaving the building. It wasn’t a face. It wasn’t enough for a positive police identification.

But there was a distinct club credential holder hanging freely from the person’s belt.

Ben quickly zoomed in. The regional football club logo was barely visible.

Ben immediately called a contact at the club. He quietly asked exactly who had 24-hour access to the specific media credentials.

Several names came up on the list.

One of them was Zane Kessler.

But there were four other names on the list as well.

So, Ben still couldn’t officially accuse him.

The next morning, Zane suddenly appeared at their hotel lobby.

He was carrying a cardboard tray filled with fresh breakfast pastries and three cups of hot coffee.

"I figured investigative journalists probably forget to actually eat," Zane smiled, handing the tray to Ben.

Daisy smiled brightly. "That’s surprisingly thoughtful."

Zane handed her a specific cup of coffee.

"I remembered your exact order from yesterday," Zane noted smoothly.

Ben looked at the cup in her hand. Then, he looked at Zane. Then, he looked at Daisy.

Daisy noticed his heavy glare.

"What?" Daisy asked.

"Nothing," Ben muttered.

Zane smiled, completely amused by the thick tension between them.

"You two are incredibly interesting," Zane observed casually.

Ben raised a dark, warning eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because she asks questions before you do," Zane explained, looking at Daisy.

Daisy laughed softly.

Zane slowly turned his head toward Ben. His easy smile completely faded.

"And you," Zane said quietly, "watch absolutely everything before you ask questions."

Ben’s expression hardened instantly.

Zane’s smile returned just as quickly. "It’s a very useful combination."

He turned around and walked away toward the exit.

Daisy watched him go. "He’s strange."

Ben looked at her. "Now you finally think he’s strange?"

"I said interesting," Daisy corrected.

Ben looked back toward the empty lobby hallway.

"That’s worse," Ben muttered.

As Zane walked out of the hotel and down the quiet street, his cell phone suddenly rang.

He answered without checking the caller ID.

"Yes?"

He listened, his expression slowly changed.

"You’re sure?"

Another pause.

Zane glanced back at the hotel, his eyes settled briefly on the windows of the room where Ben and Daisy were staying.

"Then I’ll handle it," he said quietly.

He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Then he walked away.