“Yes,” she admitted grimly. “Maybe someone in the Department of Justice? Or someone in the Cabinet? I mean, who else could wield that much influence? Stewart and I went to Indiana to see if anyone working at the troll farm knew the name of the person cutting their checks. And I think the big, bad double agent, whoever they are, sent Orpheus in to stop us.”
Again, the sound of the assassin’s name rolling off her tongue was enough to make her stomach churn. She took a sip of coffee and was surprised to find it was as thick as motor oil. And tasted just as bad.
She tried to hide her disgust behind a cough. But her expression must’ve given her away because Eliza grimaced. “Yeah. Sorry. I should’ve warned you. They”—she waved a hand between Sam and Hunter—“like their coffee strong enough to float a horseshoe. You sure you don’t want cream or sugar? It helps make it palatable to those of us not born with iron stomachs.”
“I think I’ll take you up on that.” Grace nodded as she reached for the little carafe of cream sitting on the tray because sheneededthe caffeine. With the letdown of adrenaline, she could feel herself fading fast, and she had too much to do to give in to the hours of sleep her body craved.
She was amazed how much cream she had to pour into her mug before the black liquid finally turned the color of chocolate milk.
Note to self, she thought,avoid the coffee next time.
If therewasa next time. She still wasn’t convinced she was going to survivethistime.
“But how did the double agent find out what you were up to?” Sam asked.
She shook her head. “The only person who knew what Stewart and I were investigating was Director Morgan. I haven’t the foggiest idea whohewas sharinghisinformation with, though. Something tells me if I can find that person, I’ll find the traitor.”
“Who’s to say the director isn’t the double agent?” Hunter’s question had Grace’s lungs collapsing in on themselves as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.
“I don’t want to believe that,” she admitted hoarsely. “I’ve known Director Morgan since I was a student at the academy. But it was something Stewart and I had considered.”
“So then Director Morgan is the first person we need to start looking at,” Eliza mused, screwing up her mouth in consideration.
“We?” Grace’s chin jerked back. She shook her head. “No. I don’t expect y’all to get yourselves embroiled in this. It’smymess. I just needed a ride out of Indiana and maybe a safe place to catch my breath. I’ll be out of your hair and—"
“Why use your Swiss Army blade if the intent was to off you before you had a chance to expose him? Or her. Orthem?” Hunter asked.
Grace looked over and found his dark eyebrows dipped into a V. “Sorry to interrupt.” He lifted an apologetic hand. “It’s just bugging me. That little knife. If the goal was to get rid of you and Stewart, it would’ve been easier to put one right between your eyes with a sniper rifle. Guaranteed lights out.” He snapped his fingers and the sound echoed around the huge space.
A chill raced down Grace’s spine. In the hours since Stewart’s death, and even though she hadn’t figured out any of the rest of it, she was pretty sure she’d come up with the answer to this question. “Two dead agents would’ve had people asking about our latest assignment and probably would’ve given credence to everything we’ve found, right? Better to make it look like one agent flipped their lid and killed the other. Not only would I be in jail for murder, but anything I said about the troll farm could be brushed off as the ravings of a murderous lunatic.”
For a while after that, no one said a word. Then, Hunter ventured, “So just like Eliza said, what we need to do is to look into Morgan’s communications and figure out who he was sharing his information with.”
There’s thatweagain,Grace thought, feeling a little panicky. She hadn’t expected Hunter to shoulder the burden of her problem. And shecertainlyhadn’t expected his friends and coworkers to join him in the effort.
It went against the grain to allow anyone to help her clean up a messshehad made.
“Right,” Sam answered with a downward jerk of his chin before Grace had a chance to open her mouth. “But first thing’s first. We gotta get Grace hell and gone off the premises.”
“Why? BKI headquarters is the safest civilian space I know.” Eliza waved an arm around the second floor room, drawing Grace’s eye to the schematics lit up on one of the computer screens.
The computer-aided drawing was of a fantastical motorcycle with those tall, arching handlebars.
What kind of private government defense contractors work out of a custom motorcycle shop?she couldn’t help wondering.And, more importantly,whywould they work out of a motorcycle shop?
Instead of feeling like she had a clearer picture of Hunter Jackson after seeing his place of employment, she felt like she was even more in the dark.
“’Cause I’m assuming Grace called Hunter on her cell phone,” Sam explained, looking to Grace for confirmation.
“I did.” She nodded.
“Our phones might be encrypted, rerouted, and our numbers unlisted,” he explained, “but that won’t slow the Feds for long. Eventually, they’ll track Grace’s call here, and she needs to be out the door before they come knocking.”
Just like with Hunter the first time she met him, she got the distinct impression there was more to Samuel Harwood than met the eye. Something that would explain the gruesome scar across his neck.
It looked like someone had tried to decapitate him.
“I thought about that before I made the call,” she was quick to tell them. “But I planned to be long gone from here before they showed up.”
