“It would be foolish of her to stay for the auction, and she doesn’t strike as foolish. Upset, you said? Maybe she copped to a double cross or worse. She’s gone to ground.”
“That’s possible. They could have put Kruger on her.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve got his not-well-hidden business accounts.”
“That would’ve been helpful information for me.”
“I haven’t unwound the source of the payment for you. Which appears to be only made this morning. Seventeen-five.”
“Huh, I figured I was worth a little more.”
“That would be the deposit, darling. A standard thirty-five percent. He won’t see the rest, of course, and had only withdrawn five thousand of that, in cash. But as for Jenna? There’s no transfers for several weeks before yours. It appears he’s been for hire for about two years. Yours would’ve been his biggest score by far.”
He held up a hand before she could speak.
“And yes, EDD will be able to trace the other payments, the other victims well enough. As for Jenna again, her accounts are well hidden, but I’ve unearthed a couple. There are three deposits I believe apply here. From different sources. One from July, which would jibe, wouldn’t it? One from the time of the break-in, and one made a little later in the early hours of Saturday morning—which would be after authentication. All told, she earned fifty million.”
“She’s alive then.”
“You thought otherwise?”
“Considered it, but they wouldn’t have wired the last payment if they intended to kill her. Double cross doesn’t fit, either. Except maybe it does.”
“In what way?”
“Need to think about it. I have to get this all down, written out. Think.”
“An hour more.”
“Two.”
“Two then.”
She wrote it all up, studied her own notes, made calculations, read over previous data and notes.
“Double cross,” she muttered. “Yeah, it could fit.”
And thinking how, she put her feet on the desk, sat back, and studied the board. As she ran other scenarios in her mind, she dropped into sleep.
Chapter Eighteen
She stirred when Roarke lifted her out of the chair.
“Shit, I dropped out.”
“As well you should.”
He carried her to the elevator as she tried to work her way out of the sleep fog.
“Different kind of double cross. I’ve got a couple of what-ifs.”
“Good for you. Sleep on them. I’ve made some headway on the sources. Not quite pinned—someone knows what they’re doing, and well. More than Magdelana. She’s good at it, but not this good. So I’ll sleep on that while the search continues on auto.”
“Magdelana. Is she good at working both ends?”
“Excels there. What’s the other end?”
“Not sure.”
