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Authors: Rachel Grant

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BOOK: Covert Evidence
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Lee shrugged. “No idea. My guess is they’ll seize it. It’s blood money, after all.”

“Can you erase the current location of the money? So no one will know where Hejan hid it?”

“Sure.”

“And could you drop the money in the account of a
real
relief organization? One that’s an open book, which provides aid to Syrian refugees?”

Lee grinned. “Absolutely. It might take me a few days to find the right organization and make the transfer.”

They exchanged glances all around. “If we do this, none of us can ever tell. Agreed?” Cressida said.

Trina held up a hand. “Can I tell Keith?”

“Fine. And, of course, I’ll tell Ian. But that’s it. Agreed?”

Everyone nodded.

Cressida grinned, feeling lighter than she had in…hours? Days? Who knew? But it felt good. “Okay, Lee, where is that list of people who fund terrorism that Ian promised us?”

“Working on that file now. Gimme a sec.” Another document opened on the screen. Lee blanched. “
Sonofabitch!

Cressida looked at the screen. The list was there, clear as day. Third name from the top: Dr. Patrick Hill.

 

 

 

Chapter Forty-Two

I
an took a swing at Todros, catching him on the chin. As it had in Antalya when Cressida slugged him, Todros’s head snapped back, and he went down, but the man didn’t make a sound. Ian went after him, grabbing his shirt and hoisting him to his feet.

Todros covered his face with his forearms and shook his head frantically, whispering, “Quiet!” His gaze darted down the corridor. “We need to talk in your cabin.”

Ian dragged him inside the stateroom and shut the door. He pulled his gun and pointed it at Cressida’s ex. “Give me one good reason not to shoot you.”

“Because they’ll hear. Then they’ll know you’ve figured out what Hill is. Who he is. He’ll seize your gun and slit your throat. Just like he killed Hejan.”

Ian kept his gun trained on Todros. “
Hill
killed Hejan?”

“Yes. I was in the bathroom—Hejan shoved me in there just before Hill barged in. I heard everything. Instead of paying off some Russian arms dealers as instructed, Hejan stole the money. He told Hill the account number was on the chip, then Hill killed him so he couldn’t talk to you. He bolted out the back door. He had to get back to Suzanne before she noticed he’d been gone too long. Now the organization is desperate to get their hands on the cash before the Russians come calling.”

“I
can get on the boat. I can claim I want to see Suzanne. He doesn’t know I have the chip. Doesn’t know I’ve seen the contents.” It was early evening. They’d abandoned Erica and Lee’s condo in favor of Raptor’s DC headquarters, where Keith had called in every operative on his payroll in the DC area. Cressida paced the main room and tossed out her desperate plan, frantic to convince the mercenaries to help her rescue Ian.

Prior to making the move, Lee had copied the money transfer information along with the money’s current location and passwords. He then erased the money’s location from the chip and restored the chip to the pendant. A quick call to Mara confirmed Curt was at his office. While Erica, Lee, and Cressida moved to Raptor headquarters, Trina delivered the microchip to the DOJ, placing it directly in Curt’s hand as she claimed Cressida had just realized the pendant was from Hejan and might have something inside.

Now here they were, a dozen operatives plus Trina, Erica, Lee, and Cressida. Frantic and feeling ill, Cressida paced as she tossed out ideas for how to free Ian from Hill’s boat.

The first question was whether or not they should move in before the FBI got involved. Curt didn’t know Ian had jumped from the jet—although he likely suspected—and didn’t know Ian was on Hill’s boat.

They’d tell him if he showed up at Raptor headquarters, but it had been important to give him the microchip in a way that it could be accepted into evidence in court. Cressida’s understanding of the rules for covert evidence was limited, and she prayed the data could be used to convict Hill.

In the corner of the room, Erica looked a little green. Cressida knew she felt guilty for suggesting Hill in the first place, but they’d all thought it was the perfect solution. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, it was masterful maneuvering on Hill’s part, ensuring he’d been in the loop and ready to sweep in and help.

But then, Hill had been masterful from the start.

He’d been in the bar that night with the dual purpose of watching Hejan make the drop
and
hooking up with Suzanne, which had given him an in to ingratiate himself with Cressida’s DC friends.

Knowing Cressida’s secret about the tunnel, Todd must’ve turned to Dr. Hill when he was in a desperate legal situation. Of course Todd would contact Hill, the mapping expert Cressida had introduced him to, offering the man a chance for shared glory. Hill would have known immediately exactly how valuable the tunnel could be and must have pulled strings to get Todd out of the US. Todd had been searching for the tunnel for Hill all along.

Did Todd know even then that Hill had his own agenda, or was that something he’d learned along the way? At what point did Todd balk?

She wondered if Todd ever went back to the stone house and saw the jack. If so, did he tell Hill, or did he remove the jack and cover the evidence of recent digging? She suspected he’d done the latter, and wondered if he’d managed to escape Zack and maybe fled to his relatives in Jordan. There, at least, he could start over.

Once upon a time, she’d cared about him very much. She’d never quite understand his motives—whether it was academic jealousy or if he saw the strategic importance of the tunnel—but one thing was certain: After being rash and stupid on his own, he’d then allied himself with the wrong people. Todd wasn’t evil, just immoral. He was foolish. Misguided. Childish. There were so many things not to like. But she didn’t hate him and hoped he’d escaped the hell he’d created for himself.

“Cressida, why do you think you can get on the boat without getting shot? Hill’s got to be jumpy as hell and worried you’ve got the list. Plus he’s got Ian as hostage,” Keith said.

“He won’t shoot me because I can tell him where the tunnel is—which is what he’s been after all along. I can also offer him the chip. Or the money, if he has any part in that end of the organization.”

Was Hill simply a man who funded terrorism for his own ends, or was he something more?

Keith drummed his fingers on the table. “All good possibilities. The organization must be desperate to recover the dough. He needs to cover his ass. And the tunnel—he spent months looking for it. But still, the moment he has what he wants, he’ll shoot you.”

Cressida paced the length of the room. Maybe they were looking at it from the wrong angle. Every approach hinged on getting close enough to take Hill into custody without tipping him off and getting Ian—and Suzanne—shot. “What if we get the FBI to raid the boat, claiming they got a tip that Ian is on board? Hill would have to cooperate with the FBI.”

“Admit to Curt you lied and have him send in the FBI to grab Ian?” Keith said.

“I’m no operative, but I like it,” Lee said from his position at the side of the room, facing a computer while the others sat at the conference table.

“I am, and I do too,” Sean said.

“Simple. Straightforward,” Keith said. “But what’s to prevent Hill from shooting Boyd and dumping his body overboard?”

The words made her shiver. “I guess it depends on the situation on the boat. If Ian doesn’t know Hill’s involved, he’s safe. But if he knows who and what Hill is, Hill would have to shoot Ian before he could let the FBI take him.”

“Lee, have you been able to isolate any calls to or from Hill?”

“It’s impossible with the radar interference.” Lee frowned. “He’s probably sending out a blocking signal. I haven’t even been able to pinpoint his GPS location.”

Keith’s voice took on an edge. “We don’t know where the boat is?”

“I’ve got it narrowed down to a three-mile area.”

“What if I call Suzanne?” Cressida asked. “Could you use that to pinpoint the location?”

“It might help,” Lee said.

“And it might give us an idea of the situation on the boat,” Trina added.

Keith met Cressida’s gaze. “Suzanne’s a friendly?”

“Yes,” Cressida said firmly.

“Sweetie,” Erica said, “you should know. She was behaving
very
oddly yesterday. I know she was concerned about you, but it was…
intense
. Alternating between being bitchy and hostile and demanding. She was nothing like the woman you’ve described.”

Dread trickled down Cressida’s spine. “Was she a narcissistic diva from hell?”

Erica grimaced. “Um, yeah.”

Cressida’s heart broke a little. No, a lot. “She’s on meds for…something. She doesn’t like to talk about it, so I’m not exactly sure. I only know because her doctor changed her prescription once, and she had an…episode. It wasn’t pretty, and she was horrified after. She’s always really, really careful with her pills.”

“Call her,” Keith said. “Give us your take on her mental shape.”

“No, text her. Send her a phone number. Ask her to call you,” Lee said. “That way there will be multiple data points for me to monitor.”

“And if she doesn’t call me back?” Cressida asked.

“I might be able to tell you if she unlocks her phone and reads the message. Better than rolling into voice mail.”

“Do it,” Keith said. “I’ve got a cabinet full of burner phones.” He nodded to one of the operatives and slid a key ring across the table. Without a word, the man stood and fetched a phone, while Lee and Keith debated what Cressida’s text should say.

After the text was sent, they all waited in silence for a response. Cressida jolted when the phone rang not two minutes later. With a nod from Keith and Lee, she answered the call on speakerphone.

“Cress? Is it really you?” Suzanne said in a soft voice.

“Suz!” Cressida said, giving her voice the excited pitch Suzanne would expect. “Damn, I’ve had a hell of a week since Antalya.”

“Is that how long it’s been?” Suzanne’s voice was wispy. Faded.

“A little longer. Nine days, I think. Why aren’t you in Turkey? The excavation is going for another week.”

“Patrick…had to return. He knew how worried…I was…for you. So I came back with him.”

“Hey, are you okay? You don’t sound right.”

“I think…I think I’m not right. I think…I can’t seem to think. I saw a ghost.”

A ghost?
“Suz, could your meds be off?”

“I asked Patrick that this morning. Or yesterday. He gave me a drink. I told him no more. It would mess with my meds, but he said my meds are fine. I think…I think I need to break up with him. He’s an ass. Kept pressuring me to talk to your friend Trina. I said no. No.”

Was that when he started messing with her medication? So he could manipulate her into reaching out to Trina and Erica? Cressida’s heart ached with every rambling word. This wasn’t Suzanne. This was a woman whose meds were so far off, she was discombobulated. To top it off, it sounded like Hill had pushed drinks on her, to keep her in an ethereal state.

Suzanne was floating, and Cressida needed to pull her back to earth. “Suz? Can I come see you?”

Beside her, Keith stiffened and glared at her.

“I’ll ask Patrick. He’s been acting so strange today. I hate this boat. Too many ghosts.”

“What do you mean by ghost? Who did you see?”

“He was a shadow. He didn’t want me to see him. Begged me not to tell Patrick... He said I’d die if anyone knew I saw him.”

“Who, Suz? Who did you see?”

“Todd. He’s here. Or his ghost is.”

BOOK: Covert Evidence
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