Her shoulders shook with soft laughter as she filled her fork with more of the deliciously savory food. The domesticated moment was interrupted far too soon when her computer released a loudding.
Slade stopped his fork midway to his mouth before turning and looking her way. “What was that?”
“The program got a hit.” Shadow shot up from the stool. With hurried steps, she rushed back to the coffee table and spun the device around to see.
“Holy crap!” She sent Slade an excited look from over her shoulder. “It worked!”
“You got him?” he asked, moving toward her like a man on a mission.
Needing to be sure, she turned back and scanned the data that had popped up on the screen. “Andrew Reiner.” She began reading what she saw out loud. “Thirty-seven, married, and…” Shadow’s breath hitched with a gasp. “No way.”
“What?” Slade came to her side, placing a warm hand to the small of her back.
“Look at this.” She pointed to the screen and began reading aloud. “This says he’s currently employed, and according to last year’s tax return, his employer for the past four years is the?—”
“Central Intelligence Agency?” His spine grew stiff as a board. “The son of a bitch is CIA?”
“According to the facial rec software, he is.”
“And how accurate is the software?”
“Very.” But then she admitted, “I’m pretty biased, though, since I am the one who designed it.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” Shadow’s brow arched high. “And you don’t have to sound quite so surprised.”
With a shake of his head and a roll of his eyes, he brought the conversation back around. “Just want to make sure we don’t waste time going after the wrong guy, princess.”
“Mmm hmm.” Her eyes narrowed with an exaggerated, playful glare. But then she grew serious again as she looked back at the screen, scrolling and scanning for additional information. “No criminal record, top of his class in college, and top half of his class at The Farm.” She referred to Camp Peary, which was the CIA’s covert training facility near Williamsburg, Virginia. “Finances appear to be in order, he pays his taxes on time, there’s no massive debt…” Her fingers tapped against the keys. “And according to his bank statements for the past twelve months, there haven’t been any significantly large deposits.”
“Could he have a different account you aren’t seeing? Like one off-shore?”
“It’s possible.” Shadow shrugged. “I’ll have to do some digging.”
“But you’re sure he’s our guy?”
“I could bore you with all the technical descriptions and steps if you want, or you could just trust me and take me at my word.”
His dark eyes lasered in on hers. “I do trust you, Shadow.” Slade’s throat worked with a hard swallow. “I trust you with my life.”
“Then I guess it’s time to call in the team, because this”—she pointed to the digital image of Andrew Reiner—“is definitely our guy.”
* * *
“Not to be that guy, but…”Bones turned away from Shadow’s computer to look over to where Slade was standing. “Should we maybe turn this information over to the police?”
Slade opened his mouth to explain why they’d decided against that plan, but the woman beside him answered the question before he got the chance.
“It’s too risky.” Shadow gave her head a definitive shake. “Andrew Reiner’s CIA. So was my mom, and though he’s clearly done everything in his power to erase any evidence proving it…so was Stanton.”
Bones frowned. “You think he has the cops in his pocket?”
“The asshole managed to get a government spook to carry out at least one of the attempted hits on Shadow.” Slade shot the other man a serious look. “You tell me.”
Falcon nodded. “Digger’s right.” The sniper’s gaze remained on the intel filling the laptop’s screen. “For now, we have to assume that anyone in authority has been compromised.”
“Authority, hell.” Apollo chimed in next. “I say we don’t trust anyone outside the team.”
