I made notes as I went, information I could feed back to Marcus who would hopefully be able to tell me more.
I was so deep in it that I didn’t even hear the door open behind me.
“What the…?”
I looked over my shoulder to find Cassie standing in the doorway, her mouth open in surprise, then returned my focus to my laptop. “Hey.”
“Hey?” She closed the door behind her and walked toward me. “Hey?”
“That’s what I said.”
"What are you doing here?”
“You’ve had a visitor,” I said.
“I see that.”
“Not me,” I said. “Did you change your network settings last week?”
“No, why?”
“Someone’s been in your network,” I said.
She came closer and looked over my shoulder at my laptop. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, someone changed the access settings in your network and connected to it. They logged out, but I don’t know enough to be able to tell if they set themselves up to be able to access it at will.”
She dropped into the other chair at the dining room table. “Who would do that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m guessing it has something to do with Kensington, or maybe the Russian.”
“But… how would they know anything about me? The Kings?— ”
“The Kings wouldn’t have put anyone onto you. It’s not their style. If they hadn’t wanted to dig into the financial transaction they just would have said no.”
“Then who?”
I sat back in the chair and ran my fingers through my hair. “Travis?”
“I wasn’t with you when you beat up Travis,” she said.
“We were asking about your parents,” I reminded her. “About their accident.”
“You don’t think…”
“What?” I looked at her, trying to stay focused on the conversation when all I wanted to do was stare at her beautiful fucking face.
Her heartbreakingly beautiful fucking face.
“Could the Russian or… whoever is behind all this be worried that I still have some of my parents’ records?”
I sighed. “I don’t know.”
This espionage shit wasnotmy specialty. Not now and not when I’d been a Fed. Shit, I couldn’t even follow the rules for SWAT or the high-risk arrest team I’d been assigned to for exactly three weeks before I’d fucked it.
I was a wrecking ball not a surgeon.
She frowned. “You should have told me you needed access to my apartment.”
