If there were fingerprints or DNA on that knife, Beatrice would find them. She was a world-renowned forensic scientist who ran OSI’s state-of-the-art lab.
Hawk popped a couple of gloves from the box and stretched them over his hands. Cole did the same, reached into the envelope, and slid out a stack of papers and what looked like a portable hard drive. Next, he dragged out a plastic grocery bag and set it on the table.
He reached into the bag and carefully grabbed the end of the handle of a black knife with two fingers and slid it out. Sunlight poured through the large windows and glinted off the blade. It was a large chef’s knife made by a well-known company called Wüsthof. They probably manufactured and sold thousands of them each year.
Hawk could’ve sworn Charlotte recoiled slightly when Cole leaned forward to set the knife on top of the plastic bag.
“I know you included a note, but why don’t you just tell us what this is about?” Dulce’s voice held concern for her friend.
Charlotte rubbed her forehead, then began telling them what had her so spooked.
“A little over two months ago, I was entering a case number—which is a sequence of letters and numbers—into our system at work.” She set her forearms on the table and threaded her fingers together so tightly, her knuckles turned white. “I was in a hurry when I typed in the code, and what appeared on the screen wasnotthe case file I was looking for. Not even close.” She shifted in her seat. “It was a list of names of people showing how much money they’ve donated to Human Rescue Alliance. But this wasn’t our typical donor list—it wasmuchworse.” Her throat moved up and down on a swallow. “It included details of the … in-kind services the donors received in return for their donations.”
She snatched a pair of gloves from the box, put them on, and shuffled through the documents on the table, careful to avoid the knife.
“Here is a printout of what I found.” Charlotte handed it to Dulce.
Her eyes widened as she looked through it.
“Holy shit.” She slid it over to Cole.
He flipped through the pages, his jaw rippled, then he handed them to Hawk.
There were four pages, five columns on each page. The first column consisted of the names of twenty-eight individuals. Twenty of them were bureaucrats or powerful politicians currently in office. There was a former vice-presidential candidate, a retired Speaker of the House, two tech company creators, a CEO of a major international investment firm, two well-known singers, and two successful movie producers. At the top of the list was the name A. Pennington with the number “3” after it.
The second column header readDONATION, with large dollar amounts running down the page. In the next column, titledASSET, each cell had a series of numbers and letters followed by an age—the oldest of which was only fifteen. Column four,ASSET SERVICE, was probably the most disturbing. It was populated with the type ofservicesperformed by the Asset.VALUE OF SERVICEwas the header for the last column, and below it was the dollar value for eachservice.
“Is A. Pennington who I think it is?” Cole pointed at the name at the top of the list.
“If you’re thinking it’s Ambrose Pennington the third, you’re probably right.” Charlotte rubbed her hands down her thighs. “He’s on our board of directors.”
“That son of a bitch.” Dulce turned to Cole.
“Wait, are we talking about the former White House chief of staff?ThatAmbrose Pennington.” Hawk wasn’t much for politics, but anyone who even glimpsed the news would recognize that name.
Charlotte nodded. “That’s my guess, Hawk.”
He smiled at her use of his nickname, happy that she was finally comfortable enough to use it.
“My dad was right about that guy—heisa snake.” Dulce sneered.
Her father, Sebastian Houldcroft, was dialed into everything in DC. He was well-respected and a man of great moral character who had the ear of the president. Rumor was, he’d been the one to convince the president to jettison Pennington from his cabinet.
“There’s something else.” Charlotte looked from Cole to Dulce, then to Hawk. “I’m pretty sure someone knows I accessed the file.”
“What makes you think that?” Cole asked.
“Some strange things have been happening.” She rubbed her forehead again.
He noticed she did that whenever she was worried or hesitant, like she was searching for what to say or how to say it.
“Strange things?” Hawk sat forward.
“What kinds of strange things?” Dulce asked.
“Well, like, my garbage has been dumped all over my yard twice. My back gate was left wide open. And two nights ago, when I got home from work late, I wassuresomeone had been in my house.”
He exchanged a look with Cole.
