Page 107 of Matteo

That gets his attention. He sits down. “What’s up?”

I lean back in my chair. “We've been looking into the tech issues again.”

His expression doesn't change. “Anything new?”

I hesitate. I told Elizabeth that we needed to keep this between ourselves for now, but with me heading to Italy soon, I can't justify keeping my second-in-command in the dark. Alex needs to know.

“Elizabeth thinks it might be an inside job.”

For the first time since entering my office, Alex goes completely still. The reaction lasts less than a second. Then it's gone. “You … what?” His voice climbs half an octave. He shifts in his chair, fingers loosening the collar of his shirt. “Impossible.”

“She's convinced we're looking at someone familiar with the infrastructure. Someone who knows their way around our systems.”

He inhales a breath. “She could be wrong.”

“She could be.”

“She's smart, but that doesn't mean she's right.”

I shrug. “Maybe.”

He rises from his chair and looks out of my windowed wall at the open-plan workspace. He's the only person left on this floor who still wears shirts and ties every day. A holdover from the culture before I took over the department.

His hands disappear into his trouser pockets. “This doesn't make any sense.”

“Tell me about it.”

He turns to me. “Who do you think it is?”

I hesitate. “Joel's done a couple of things lately that aren't sitting right with me.”

Alex turns sharply. “Joel? Are you serious?”

“I can't prove anything.”

“But … Joel?”

“He was in the server room recently.”

Alex says nothing.

“Long after everyone else had gone home,” I add.

He scratches his jaw. “And?”

“He looked surprised to see us there.”

“Us?”

“Elizabeth and me.” My breath still as I wait for his reaction. Instead, Alex seems focused on something else entirely.

“Joel almost never stays late.”

I nod. “My point exactly.” I slide my chair back and stretch out my legs. “He told me you asked him to run a backup for you. It was on one of the days you left early.”

Alex looks away, his eyes narrowing. “I remember that day,” he says, as if he's recalling it slowly.

“Could he have been telling the truth?”