Portland, Oregon Spencer Grim sat behind Matthew Fox's, desk, but he was not working. He was looking over every notebook in every drawer and file cabinet, but he was not tending to company business. He was frantically searching for a name. The name belonged to a man who was at the house three days ago. A horrible thought was spinning out of control, and he had to put it to rest. If the name of the man who visited the mansion; the man who was among four others looking to win the "game," was named Douglas Faust though, Spencer's worst fears would be realized.
Spencer read of Doug Faust's death in one of the major newspapers from a dozen different cities that he scanned each morning over breakfast. He found the most interesting stories to be those written by local reporters on everyday subjects. The usable items he would report to Matthew, and the millionaire would take it from there. The last person to benefit from Matthew's generosity was a seventy-year-old with a strange hobby. The man was a diamond cutter from Prairie Home, Missouri. Matthew put him on the Tech Support payroll, and the war veteran's pastime made him a wealthy man. Matthew also told Spencer several times that Marcus James was the finest cutter he had ever worked with. There were other instances, too, where Spencer dropped notes on Matthew's desk regarding various families that were down and out and in need of financial assistance. His boss would always come through and, never again did those families go hungry. Today though, as he read the Atlanta Times Journal, he nearly fell off the kitchen chair.
The short piece was buried near the back of the paper. "TWO MEN DEAD BY SHORT RANGE GUNFIRE," the headline screamed. The owner of the cabin, Douglas Faust of Brunswick, Georgia, was a retired Marine. He had one daughter. His wife preceded him in death two years earlier.
It took Spencer five minutes to find the buried file and pull up the list of "contestants" on the computer. The name Douglas Faust jumped off the screen; it was the second of five. Spencer closed his eyes, threw his head back and groaned. Damn, I was hoping I was wrong! There was no doubt, though. Matthew's notes matched the facts listed in the newspaper. Brunswick, Georgia; retired Marine, widower, one daughter. "So," he asked himself for the hundredth time, "is Matthew capable of causing Doug Faust's death?"
