“I want to know everything you have the moment you have it.”

“We’re working from the kitchen. We won’t be far.”

He turned to leave, but Denon said, “Wait. What about the man who tried to kill me this morning?”

Xander shrugged. “We don’t know much more than we did earlier—he’s a Spanish national, a known assassin, very good at his job. We’re trying to get into his private accounts and see where the money trail originated. That’s the problem, Mr. Denon. We can’t find any records of anyone putting a contract out on you personally. So we’re operating under two theories. One, that someone inside your staff was the target, or two, someone inside your staff arranged for this so far off-book even we can’t find a trace. But now we have another wrinkle.”

“Juliet?”

“You’ve been dating a woman who’s using a false identity. We need to find out who she really is, who she really works for and why she’s targeted you.”

Denon stood suddenly. There were more glances from the dining room table. “You can’t think that. It’s impossible. She loves me, and I love her,” he whispered harshly.

Xander was several inches taller, and Denon had to look up when he spoke.

“Sir, I understand you have feelings for this woman. I will tread carefully. But everything is pointing in her direction. What kind of access has she had?”

“To what?”

“Your personal devices. Your laptop, your phone, your desktop at work.”

He sank back onto the couch, head in his hands. “All of them. She’s had access to all of them. I trusted her with everything. She was the one who suggested I work with you, for Chrissake.”

“She did?”

“Said you were excellent, that you were trustworthy and capable. I was leery of hiring a new firm, untried, but she said you were the best. She was bloody well right, too. I’m still breathing.”

“I wonder how she knew us.”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing.”

“Did she have contact with anyone else on your staff?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Only Lois, my secretary. No one else knows her personally that I’m aware of. Our world is a small one in London. Good Jesus in heaven, what have I done?”

“I may be off base, but I think we’re onto something here. What I need you to do is have the people you absolutely believe in look into your systems. See if they can find any anomalies.”

Denon ran a hand across the schoolboy face. “What sort of anomalies are we looking for?”

“Money moving around to places it shouldn’t, unauthorized accesses, anything that might tell us if someone’s been inside your company’s systems. Do you have a good IT person?”

“One of the best. And he’s sitting at the table over there. Everson’s been with me for several years. I trust him thoroughly.”

“Good. When we’re finished, I’ll get him started looking for code anomalies, fake server proxies, anything that might indicate an outsider has built a back door into your system. What about the rest of your team? Any grievances, poor performance reports, firings? Who might be a problem for you?”

“I’ll contact human resources, see if anyone’s been fired recently. I can’t think of another way to start looking at people outside of hire dates, and working backward.” He glanced down at the coffee table. “I’ve been a fool.”

“I wouldn’t say that, sir. But we’ll keep going at Bouchard from this end. Between the two of us, we may be able to find out what she’s been up to. You should get Everson started on your files. I’m happy to help him.”

“You really think Juliet, whatever her real name is, is up to something?”

“I do. And I’m afraid you may have been compromised along with your company.”

“Bloody hell. Bloody fucking hell.”

That about summed it up, Xander thought.

Chapter 37

Fletcher’s house

MARCOS DANIELS MET them at the door, shivering in excitement. Sam was further reminded of an eager puppy, wanting to please, happy to see them home. She used to play a game with the twins, trying to match people to their canine counterparts. It was a teaching tool, giving them a way to learn different breeds. The moment Matthew and Madeline had figured out what d-o-g actually correlated to, they were obsessed, in the way only little ones could be. They’d both been wildly creative, precocious, able to pull breeds she’d never heard of from their tiny brains, enhanced with a book she’d bought them from the American Kennel Club.

What breed would Daniels be, if he were a dog? Loyal, smart, eager. Short-haired, clean, quiet unless agitated. Quick and lethal if necessary, she was sure of it; he wouldn’t be assigned to Baldwin’s unit if he wasn’t very capable. A Doberman, then. Yes, looking closer, she could see it, a darkness inside him that would only be unleashed in the most dire of circumstances.

Her rumination was quickly interrupted by the Doberman himself. “I found Robin Souleyret. She has a carriage house out in McLean, lives on the estate of a couple of French diplomats. We have a BOLO out on the Lexus your witness saw this morning. It’s registered to her, at this address in McLean. I’ve sent a car to start surveillance on the house, subtly, of course. From what I’ve been able to uncover, she’d pick up a tail a mile away. She’s got a pretty impressive CV. Been all over the world, and most of it’s redacted.”

“Baldwin told me she was CIA black ops. How much did you actually find?” Sam asked.

Daniels grinned. “More than they’d want me to. Remember, I can work a little magic with the computer.”

Sam grinned back at him, then shook her finger with mock sternness. “Agent Daniels, tell me you didn’t hack the CIA databases.”

“Oh no, ma’am. That would be illegal. I walked in through the front door and asked politely.”

She clapped him on the shoulder. She was liking Daniels more and more. “Good job. What else did you find?”

“Souleyret was badly injured when the Humvee she was traveling in ran over an IED, north of Kirkuk. They were on a secret mission, traveling dark, with satellite guides, and someone screwed up royally, sent them off the road to hide from an oncoming patrol in exactly the wrong place. She pulled three men from the vehicle, saved their lives, got a big commendation for it, too. But she had to retire from field work. She had a pretty severe head injury which DQ’d her from active duty. Once she got out of the hospital, they sent her back to Langley, doing analyst work. She was bored, by all accounts, and difficult to work with. They blamed it on the head injury, but there were rumors—there always are—that she was aggressive and uncontrollable. They booted her, put her on administrative leave.”

Sam looked at Fletcher. “We need to be looking at Robin closer.”

“She could have been helping Amanda off book, for sure,” he replied. “Good job, Daniels.”

Fletcher started toward the kitchen, and Daniels grabbed his arm. “Um, before you go in there, a heads-up. Your friend is here.”

“Jordan? She’s back in town early.” A smile lit his face, one that made Sam warm up inside. He really did dig the FBI agent he’d been dating.

“No, it’s your other friend. The one you called to help. She said her name was Mouse.”

“Ah, Rosie.” Then he eyed Daniels. “What exactly is Freedom Mouse doing in my kitchen, Marcos?”

Daniels had the decency to look abashed. “If it won’t piss you off, she’s been dissecting the SD card. If it will piss you off, she’s been cleaning up the lunch dishes.”

Fletcher looked torn for a minute, and Sam knew he was thinking Mouse was yet another person to keep quiet. There was no way for them to manage a cover-up that had spread through so many people. At this point, she didn’t give a whit what Regina Girabaldi wanted. This story was too big to contain, and doing so was hurting their chances of finding the killer.