Chapter 122

• Rain-slicked tires crunched over the Carter Enterprises lot as Ryan pulled up, the morning sun glinting off the glass tower's facade. He killed the engine, grabbed the thick blue binder from the passenger seat, and stepped out, coat flapping in the breeze.
• He strode through the revolving doors, nodding to the security guard behind the desk—an older man with a gray mustache, sipping coffee from a chipped mug.
• "Morning, Tom," Ryan said, flashing a tired grin.