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So there were two terrifying Gretas working at this branch of the company, and one of them was the stepdaughter of the only director Jack had yet to investigate. One of them appeared just before the list was stolen. One of them could have been placed in a position of power by a relative with even more power. Had it been Jack plotting the theft with the same resources available, it was exactly what he would have done. Jack had been so distracted, first by Greta Summers and then by Ian Grant, and then by Greta again, that he’d yet to even begin tracking down Mr. O. Bajwa, and yet an extension of him had been right under Jack’s nose all along, with unfettered access to classified information about the inner workings of the organization. So it was Greta, but not as a director who’d taken a secondary job at this branch for closer access to the Master List. Instead, she was working as an undercover agent for a director Jack had all but forgotten about, here to do his bidding by proxy.

Jack tapped his thumbs across his phone a final time.

JACK: well shit

Then he abandoned the aisles and doubled back to confront his rival thief.

36

“Find what you were looking for?” Greta asked robotically as Jack approached her desk again.

“I think I did,” he said, trying not to let too much glee seep into his tone.

She kept herself fully immersed in whatever it was she was reading on her computer screen. “Good. Is there something else you need?”

“The truth,” Jack said. He hadn’t meant to bring quite so much drama into the equation, but it felt right for the moment.

Greta’s breath shallowed, but still she carried on staring at her computer.

“I know why you’re really here,” Jack continued.

Whatever weak color Greta had in her alabaster complexion all but abandoned her in that moment, giving her the appearance of a translucent anglerfish trying to maintain its composure despite the underbite.

“I don’t know what you think you know, but—”

“It’s Greta Bajwa, isn’t it?” This time a little bit of glee did sneak in.

Greta finally abandoned her pretense of working, her focus landing sharp on Jack. “Will you keep your voice down?” she hissed.

“I could,” Jack mused. “Or I could take this directly to the higher-ups.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“I disagree,” Jack boomed, enjoying himself now.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because,” said Jack, “you have something I want.”

Greta gave a frantic look around her, at the computer, the shelves, the desk. “My job?”

Jack blinked at that. “What? No. The list. But if you tell me where it is, I won’t tell anyone you took it. You and your stepdad won’t face any issues from me.”

Now it was Greta’s turn to blink. “List? What list? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Greta. I know you have it.” It took only a prolonged look at her expression, though, to tell Jack she wasn’t necessarily playing at all. “You do have it, right?”

“I don’t have anything,” Greta said, and her tone shifted into something Jack didn’t recognize. Gone was the human exclamation mark with all its intensity; melted was the ice surrounding her. “Except this.” She gestured at the archives around them.

“Wait, what?”

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” Greta said weakly. “My job here. You know.”

“Yeah,” Jack lied, because he once again wasn’t sure he knew anything at all. “Your job here. That’s what this is about.”

Greta’s sharp shoulders sagged. “Please, please keep this between us.”

“I’ll consider it,” said Jack. “But, uh, in your own words, can you tell me what ‘this’ is? Just so I’m sure we’re on the same page.”