But Cam had shaken his off, catching on to where Nic was headed.
Rebecca had been the leader of the heist crew Cam had gone undercover to infiltrate on the Kristic case, and there had been a series of tests he’d had to pass to prove his skill and loyalty, including...“The flash drives I stole from AD Moore’s condo.It was a job for Vaughn.”
“Knowing how Vaughn operates,” Nic said, “he would have had someone else contact her.Deliver the order.What if it was Bowers?”
Eleven
Nic held the door open for the departing crowd, Cam carrying a case out for Lauren while Eddie, Aidan, and Jamie talked basketball.Nic expected Mel to be on their heels but only heard the echo of her stilettos from afar.He followed theclick-clackback into the tasting area, finding Mel behind the bar, pulling a pint of Belmont Red Ale for herself.A pint of Alto Pils was already waiting for him.
He climbed onto a stool, a rare chance to sit a spell on this side of the bar.“Thank you again for your help on this.”
She took a long draw of the ale, humming pleasantly.
“You should have said that one was your favorite.”
She peered over the rim of the glass.“And you should have expected I would help.I need to see this one to its conclusion.”
“Because you started it while you were at the Bureau?”
“Vaughn’s been skirting the law for too long, compromising federal employees and cases, manipulating people down on their luck.Working for an honest company now, for an honest family who had to claw their way back from nothing, only makes me want to shut him down more.And that asshole boss of yours.”
“No arguments there.”Nic held his glass out for a clink.
She tapped back and took a sip.“Got some more information on our other mystery too.”
“Nicolette Sare?”
“It took some digging.She’s not on any social media, and while she’s got a college transcript, there are no associated pictures.”Mel sat down her glass, withdrew her phone, and after a couple taps, slid it across the bar, under Nic’s nose.“Aside from her North Carolina driver’s license photo, this is the only other picture of her I could find.”She pointed with her French-tipped nail to the figure in the background.“That’s her.”
It was a picture of a martial arts studio in a promo article about an upcoming tournament.The picture’s focus was on the studio owner and tournament chair in the foreground, the students practicing in the background blurry.The only female in the group, Nicolette stood taller than at least half the men and something about her was familiar, though without a clear picture of her face, he couldn’t place her or what had made him think that.What he did clearly see, even in the blurry picture, was the color of her belt.
“She’s a black belt?”
“Expert rank,” Mel confirmed.“Though I can’t say which level just from the picture.”
“Still sounds impressive.”Turning back to the picture, he spread his fingers to enlarge the image.And only made it blurrier.“Is she blond in this picture?She was a brunette in the DMV photo.”
“And five-foot-four, which that woman most definitely is not.”
“Her documents are fake,” Nic surmised.“Witness protection?”
“Or deep cover, or military intelligence if she’s in Jacksonville.”
“Any of those are a possibility.Or she could be hiding from someone.”
Mel drained her glass, waited for Nic to do the same, then carried them over to the sink.“I’ve got a voicemail in to the studio owner, but he hasn’t returned my call.Put a call into the Marshals as well.”
“I’ll check again with naval intelligence.”He drummed his thumbs on the bar, turning over the questions this latest news prompted.“If this person is hiding, why the hell is she calling me?”
“When was the last one?”
“Yesterday morning.”
Mel’s gaze shot to him, brow raised.“They started again?”
“Right as news of Curtis’s death broke.Nothing suspicious there.”
Rounding the bar, Mel propped a heel on the bottom rung of the stool next to Nic’s, bouncing her foot as she contemplated.“Do you think this person across the country works for Vaughn?”
