Hidden with you, p.16
Hidden With You, page 16
“Maybe he did, but he still fucked up. He should have told me.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. He was trained as a spy. Do you know what that means?”
I don’t answer.
She grimaces. “Okay. How about this—do you believe he loves you?”
“I don’t know.”
She barks out a laugh. “That is such bullshit."
“What is your problem?” I snap.
“Honestly? You. You are my problem. Right now, you are the only problem I’ve got. And you’re a big one.”
“Why are you picking on me? This is the worst day of my life. The man I love thought about killing me.”
“And he didn’t because he loves you.” She drags her fingers through her hair. “This is the problem. You say that people leave you, but do they really? Do you even try to meet them halfway? Did you ever try with Camille?”
“What? Why are we talking about Camille? I can barely have a conversation with her now.”
“Because you two never connected after she moved away. And yes, that’s partly her fault, but she tried. She told me she reached out a couple of times, and you never seemed interested. You were just angry that she was gone. And by the time you got over it, she’d moved on. Maybe she shouldn’t have, maybe she should have tried harder after you had a chance to deal, but it wasn’t entirely her fault.”
My eyes are wide, and I’m feeling the force of her words like a slap. “I... I...”
I shake my head, realizing I can’t say anything because I’m crying. “I’m sorry.”
Her shoulders droop. “It’s not really about Camille. You’re both doing fine. That’s not the point. The point is Jasper. If you love him, you have to meet him halfway. Especially if you believe he loves you too. So that’s the question,” she said. “Are you giving up? Or are you going to fight for him?”
Chapter Twenty-One
It had taken all of Jasper’s willpower to wait until morning, and he’d had to talk himself out of going to the bastard’s house at least five times during the night. Better to go to the office, anyway. He wanted witnesses.
He wanted everyone at Stark Security to know what that little worm Owen had done. And he wanted witnesses when he forced the prick to explain why he’d taken that poor woman’s life.
He crossed The Domino’s pavilion, watching the Santa Monica business park come to life. Most people were clustered around the coffee cart, enjoying the morning before they started their workday.
But Jasper had a mission. And today, he really didn’t need caffeine.
He headed to Stark Security, the anchor tenant for the complex, then held back as two agents he didn’t recognize entered. When he saw that no one else was approaching the door, he hurried over, drew a breath, then yanked open the door and crossed the threshold.
He paused, feeling all eyes on him. He was on official probation as of this morning per the email Ryan had distributed before midnight. No fieldwork. Grunt-style computer research and data entry for the next three months.
That was fine by Jasper.
Hell, in an hour he might not even have that as a job. But being fired was a small price to pay to avenge Melinda’s life.
He ignored the whispers as he crossed to Owen’s workspace. The office was still mostly empty. It was only eight, and most agents didn’t arrive until nine or later, the job tending to call for late nights, after all.
Owen pushed a desk, however, and he was right where he was supposed to be, his eyes full of curiosity as Jasper came closer and closer, until finally they were barely a foot apart. That’s when Jasper lashed out with one hell of a left hook and got the traitorous prick right in the jaw.
Owen stumbled back, his mouth bleeding. He fell against his rolling chair and went down.
Jasper didn’t think. Hell, he wasn’t even in his body. All he knew—all that existed—was the fight. He was on top of Owen, pounding the lousy prick’s face, landing hard blows to his chest, doing whatever he could to cause damage before the other agents in the room dragged him off.
It didn’t take long.
Less than thirty seconds later, two of the security staff had ripped him off of Owen and cuffed his hands behind his back. Someone shouted that Ryan was in the parking garage, and all the while, Jasper stood there with a smile on his face, watching Owen bleeding and in pain on the floor.
“What the hell?” Leah shouted, grabbing Jasper’s arm and shaking him. His balance was off from the cuffs, and he stumbled against Owen’s desk, then snapped his attention to Leah.
“He killed her. That noxious little worm killed Melinda.”
“Everyone, back to work.” Ryan’s voice rang through the room, and the lingering staff scattered. “Leah, you stay. Is he okay?” Ryan asked with a nod to Owen, who was on the floor with Quincy, who’d grabbed a First aid kit.
“He’ll be fine. Sore. But fine.” Quincy shot Jasper a curious look but didn’t say anything. Just continued to treat Owen, who looked far too healthy for Jasper’s taste.
“Seriously, Jasper,” Leah snapped. “What the fuck?” She glanced up at Ryan. “Sorry. I’ll stay quiet.”
“No. That was my exact question.”
“He killed Melinda Barrett. A source. The first and only solid lead I’ve had in my investigation as to who killed my wife and daughter.” He forced his voice to stay level. Professional. Though why he was bothering, he wasn’t sure. He’d already blown professional all to hell.
“If that’s true, I’d probably have done the same thing,” Ryan said. “So what’s your proof?”
He jangled his cuffs. “Easier to tell if I can also show.”
Ryan signaled to Leah, who uncuffed him. He rolled his shoulders, then glared at Owen.
“Don’t even think about it,” Ryan said. “You two, in the conference room. Opposite sides of the table. You even think about getting into it, and I will have you in a detention cell so fast it will make your head spin. Quincy, you too.”
“We’ll be joining the conference, too.”
Ollie’s familiar voice came from near the door, and Jasper’s heart skipped a beat as he looked up to see Zelda standing there with Ollie beside her, both in jogging shorts.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ryan began, but Zelda cut him off. “You’re the one who assigned him to protect me, and yesterday I learned that he’d been tasked to kill me. So yeah, I think it is necessary. Unless you want to give me a chance to talk to him now.”
Jasper held his breath, hoping Ryan agreed. He needed to talk to her. Needed to figure out a way to get them back on track. But at the same time, if she was making a clean break from him, he’d just as soon postpone the pain.
“Fine,” Ryan said. “You can come in, but you’re only observing. But not Ollie.”
“Yes, Ollie,” she retorted. “Consider him my counsel.”
Ryan looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he turned to Jasper. “Objections?”
“No. Whatever she wants,” he said, pleasantly surprised when she met his eyes and didn’t turn away until Ryan urged them into the room. Jasper and Owen were seated at opposite ends of the oval table, with Zelda and Ollie on one side, and Ryan on the other.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Ryan said, shooting Jasper an exasperated look.
“Start with this,” Jasper said. “Look especially by the table leg. Have him explain that.”
He passed Ryan his phone, open to the picture of Melinda.
Ryan studied it, then passed it to Owen, who sent it around to Zelda, who winced at the photo, and then gave the phone to Ollie.
“I’m sorry about the girl,” Owen said.” But what does that have to do with me?”
“That message on the paper is for me. Trying to coerce me into killing Zelda. Warning me that if I didn’t, others would die.”
He was looking at Owen, but he could still see Zelda hugging herself, and he hated that his words were causing her pain.
As for Owen, his only reaction was confusion.
“Coerce?” Ryan repeated. “We received an anonymous tip last night. From what I understand, you don’t need coercion to kill. Just a healthy paycheck and a lust for the freelance lifestyle.”
“Seriously?” His temper spiked, his blood positively boiling. “You want to go there? Fine, let’s go there.” He paused long enough to glance at Zelda. This was the part he hadn’t told her yet, but there was no avoiding it now. “Yeah, I left MI6 to go freelance. And yeah, I’ve been contracted for some hits. But I choose my clients, and I investigate the target. I make sure the reasons are sound, and that the justice system has fucked them over.”
“You’re saying you have a conscience.”
“Don’t you dare lay into me about that,” he snapped. “I’m not in that business anymore, and if we’re going to have that talk, then I need to not be the only one on the firing line. You know damn well what your other agents have done before they signed up. Or do we need to ask Quincy and Simon to step into the room?”
He crossed his arms, forcing himself not to look to Zelda. He’d told her none of this, and he was desperately afraid that he’d just dug down another six feet in his own damn grave.
“You’ve made your point, and you’re right. We’re not interested in your freelance career before joining us. But we are interested in the fact that someone offered you payment to kill Zelda.”
“Payment?”
“Information about your family’s killer,” Ryan said, his voice so level that it took all of Jasper’s strength just to keep from punching him.
“I didn’t ask for that, and I didn’t take the assignment.” He forced himself not to look at Zelda, afraid that if he did, the guilt he felt would show on his face.
He hadn’t lied to Ryan—he hadn’t hurt her—but he had thought about it. To his eternal shame, he’d actually considered it. If it had been anyone other than Zelda, he might even have gone through with it.
“Whoever was baiting me promised me information about Sandra’s and Bonnie’s deaths in exchange for killing Zelda.” He lifted a chin. “That wasn’t a price I was prepared to pay.”
“Even though that might be your last chance?” Ryan asked.
Jasper sat up straight, his eyes locked on Ryan’s. “Even so. I dropped the rope, sir. I made a choice, and I dropped the rope.”
“What does that even mean?” Owen blurted.
“It means he loves me,” Zelda said, and when he looked toward her, she mouthed, I love you, too, and her soft smile filled his soul.
Really? He asked silently, then almost floated out of his chair when she nodded.
He drew a breath, forcing himself to focus on the situation with Owen. “That paper—that message to me—isn’t relevant right now. What you need to focus on is the cigar band.”
“Cigar band?” Owen snorted a laugh. “That’s your big bombshell? That’s one of the most popular brands in the world. And to be honest, I haven’t even smoked one yet. I told you they were a gift. Go open the box if you want to.”
A gift.
“A gift from who?”
“My mentor at the CIA. They’re his brand. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps.”
“Oh, bloody hell,” Jasper said. “Who was your mentor?”
Owen’s brows rose. “Seriously? You’re going from thinking I’m the spawn of Satan to pursuing my mentor? The guy’s a legend. And he’s not even in the CIA anymore. He’s got his own business.”
“A name,” Jasper said.
“He’s CIA. You know I can’t reveal—”
“A name.”
Owen looked to Ryan. “Are you hearing this crap?”
“Just give him the name.”
“Fine. Whatever. Carter Malloy. He’s a hell of a guy.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Carter Malloy,” Ollie repeated. “Carter Malloy was your mentor?”
“Yeah,” Owen said. “What’s the big deal?”
“Not a thing,” Ollie said, in what Jasper considered a completely unbelievable tone. “I’ve met the man. Back when I was working for the FBI. Joint task force.”
“So you know. He’s had my back since I was a trainee. Helped me get in as an analyst, climb through the ranks.”
“Recommended you for this job, too,” Ryan said. “Almost looks like he wanted someone inside with eyes on this operation.”
“No, that’s not—”
“And he smokes San Cristobal Ovations,” Jasper pointed out. “Lots of little things piling up. Not looking good for your buddy.”
“This is bullshit,” Owen said. “You have literally zero evidence.”
“We know that someone wants me dead,” Zelda said. “And we know that someone set up Jasper, trying to entice him to kill me. I know I’m not the most well loved person on the planet, but the odds that two people proactively want me dead seems slim. So I’m going out on a limb and saying it’s the same person.”
“Makes sense to me,” Ollie said. “And, gee, I wonder who might stand to benefit if you die.”
“Carter’s my stepfather,” she told Owen. “Just in case you need to catch up. And if I die, he and my mom get the land and house. Which, to be clear, is worth a fuck ton of money.”
Jasper fought a smile. The woman he loved had a serious bite.
“To be fair,” Ollie put in, “it’s Mrs. Malloy who would inherit. But I have a feeling that’s the kind of challenge that Carter Malloy can overcome in his sleep.”
Owen looked at each of them in turn, finally stopping at Jasper. “You all really believe this. You think he’s dirty.”
“I do,” Jasper said. “I think he killed Melanie. I think he tried to bait me into killing Zelda.”
Owen dragged his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. “Okay, okay. I’m listening. But this can’t be right. There has to be an explanation.”
“Hold up, everybody,” Ollie said as he lifted his phone and shook it. “I just got something here.”
Everyone at the table turned to look at him. “What is it?” Zelda asked.
“So here’s the thing,” Ollie said. “You know how Matthew Holt told you two about the art files for the little target icon that goes above all the chapters in the book?”
Jasper looked at Ryan, who nodded.
“Well, he gave me a call and asked me to do some follow-up. We sent a forensics team into Holt’s offices, and we were able to track down an unauthorized download of that folder by a data processing team member.”
“Well, that’s excellent,” Zelda said. “Isn’t it?” She looked to Jasper, who nodded.
“I think it might be,” Ollie said. “Let me walk you through it. We pinpointed the date of the download, which corresponded to twenty-four hours before the threat appeared in Zelda’s mail. We also knew the location from which he downloaded it, and after watching him, we realized that he’s a creature of habit. He takes the same route to and from work every day.”
Jasper looked at Zelda and shrugged. He knew Ollie had a point; he just wished he would get to it.
“We had a team of agents canvas the area. Turns out he lives close and walked. This was good for us. It took some time, but we were able to check video footage at most of the locations along his regular route. ATMs, security cameras, traffic cameras, the like.”
“And you found something,” Zelda guessed.
“They just emailed it to me. Is there a way to project it up so everyone can see?”
“Send it to me,” Ryan said, and a few minutes later they were looking at a wall screen onto which the video was projected. At first, it was just the image of a street corner somewhere in Los Angeles. Then, a man came into view.
He was tall and thin and wore his hair pulled back in a ponytail. He stood on a street corner, shifting his weight back and forth from foot to foot. It looked like someone who was either very, very nervous, or desperately needed a restroom.
A few minutes later, another man joined him, and Ponytail passed an envelope to the second man. From the angle, it was impossible to see the second man’s face, and Jasper was just about to ask if there was video with an angle across the street, when the man turned.
It was Carter Malloy.
“I don’t get it,” Owen said. “I don’t get what you’re trying to say.” He glared at Ollie, as if Ollie was messing up everything. Jasper guessed that from Owen’s perspective, he probably was.
“It’s simple,” Ollie said. “Someone stole a particular file with a graphic on it from Hardline Entertainment. That graphic somehow ended up on a death threat sent to Zelda. We know that Peter Danvoy—Mr. Ponytail in the video—accessed that folder during a time when he was not officially logged into the computer and on a station that didn’t normally belong to him. We also know that on that same day, he entered into a transaction with Carter Malloy, someone we suspect might harbor ill will toward Zelda. Considering the two met, the probability is high that Carter acquired the graphics file and sent the threat to Zelda.”
He cleared his throat. “That’s it,” he added, and everyone around the table nodded, with the exception of Owen, who still looked shell-shocked.
“There’s more,” Zelda said. “I just remembered it, but it supports the conclusion that Carter’s involved. The other day, my mother mentioned that she was annoyed I hadn’t offered to get her tickets for the gala. I didn’t think anything about it at the time. My mother is constantly annoyed with me, and I mostly just tune her out. But I just realized something,” she continued.
“How did she know about the gala?” Jasper said.
“Exactly.” Zelda looked around the table. “The gala that’s being thrown in honor of Intercontinental is meant to be a surprise. No one who has tickets to the real premier knows that they’re going to get to see the trailer. It’s an odd publicity stunt in that there is no publicity, but that’s the way Holt’s company wants to handle it.”
“But somehow your mother knew,” Jasper said. “Probably because she heard it from your stepfather. And I’m guessing he knows because he’s the one who’s up to something.”
Everyone at the table except Owen nodded, either absorbing the information or agreeing. And they all turned to look at the odd man out.
“Maybe. Maybe not. He was trained as a spy. Do you know what that means?”
I don’t answer.
She grimaces. “Okay. How about this—do you believe he loves you?”
“I don’t know.”
She barks out a laugh. “That is such bullshit."
“What is your problem?” I snap.
“Honestly? You. You are my problem. Right now, you are the only problem I’ve got. And you’re a big one.”
“Why are you picking on me? This is the worst day of my life. The man I love thought about killing me.”
“And he didn’t because he loves you.” She drags her fingers through her hair. “This is the problem. You say that people leave you, but do they really? Do you even try to meet them halfway? Did you ever try with Camille?”
“What? Why are we talking about Camille? I can barely have a conversation with her now.”
“Because you two never connected after she moved away. And yes, that’s partly her fault, but she tried. She told me she reached out a couple of times, and you never seemed interested. You were just angry that she was gone. And by the time you got over it, she’d moved on. Maybe she shouldn’t have, maybe she should have tried harder after you had a chance to deal, but it wasn’t entirely her fault.”
My eyes are wide, and I’m feeling the force of her words like a slap. “I... I...”
I shake my head, realizing I can’t say anything because I’m crying. “I’m sorry.”
Her shoulders droop. “It’s not really about Camille. You’re both doing fine. That’s not the point. The point is Jasper. If you love him, you have to meet him halfway. Especially if you believe he loves you too. So that’s the question,” she said. “Are you giving up? Or are you going to fight for him?”
Chapter Twenty-One
It had taken all of Jasper’s willpower to wait until morning, and he’d had to talk himself out of going to the bastard’s house at least five times during the night. Better to go to the office, anyway. He wanted witnesses.
He wanted everyone at Stark Security to know what that little worm Owen had done. And he wanted witnesses when he forced the prick to explain why he’d taken that poor woman’s life.
He crossed The Domino’s pavilion, watching the Santa Monica business park come to life. Most people were clustered around the coffee cart, enjoying the morning before they started their workday.
But Jasper had a mission. And today, he really didn’t need caffeine.
He headed to Stark Security, the anchor tenant for the complex, then held back as two agents he didn’t recognize entered. When he saw that no one else was approaching the door, he hurried over, drew a breath, then yanked open the door and crossed the threshold.
He paused, feeling all eyes on him. He was on official probation as of this morning per the email Ryan had distributed before midnight. No fieldwork. Grunt-style computer research and data entry for the next three months.
That was fine by Jasper.
Hell, in an hour he might not even have that as a job. But being fired was a small price to pay to avenge Melinda’s life.
He ignored the whispers as he crossed to Owen’s workspace. The office was still mostly empty. It was only eight, and most agents didn’t arrive until nine or later, the job tending to call for late nights, after all.
Owen pushed a desk, however, and he was right where he was supposed to be, his eyes full of curiosity as Jasper came closer and closer, until finally they were barely a foot apart. That’s when Jasper lashed out with one hell of a left hook and got the traitorous prick right in the jaw.
Owen stumbled back, his mouth bleeding. He fell against his rolling chair and went down.
Jasper didn’t think. Hell, he wasn’t even in his body. All he knew—all that existed—was the fight. He was on top of Owen, pounding the lousy prick’s face, landing hard blows to his chest, doing whatever he could to cause damage before the other agents in the room dragged him off.
It didn’t take long.
Less than thirty seconds later, two of the security staff had ripped him off of Owen and cuffed his hands behind his back. Someone shouted that Ryan was in the parking garage, and all the while, Jasper stood there with a smile on his face, watching Owen bleeding and in pain on the floor.
“What the hell?” Leah shouted, grabbing Jasper’s arm and shaking him. His balance was off from the cuffs, and he stumbled against Owen’s desk, then snapped his attention to Leah.
“He killed her. That noxious little worm killed Melinda.”
“Everyone, back to work.” Ryan’s voice rang through the room, and the lingering staff scattered. “Leah, you stay. Is he okay?” Ryan asked with a nod to Owen, who was on the floor with Quincy, who’d grabbed a First aid kit.
“He’ll be fine. Sore. But fine.” Quincy shot Jasper a curious look but didn’t say anything. Just continued to treat Owen, who looked far too healthy for Jasper’s taste.
“Seriously, Jasper,” Leah snapped. “What the fuck?” She glanced up at Ryan. “Sorry. I’ll stay quiet.”
“No. That was my exact question.”
“He killed Melinda Barrett. A source. The first and only solid lead I’ve had in my investigation as to who killed my wife and daughter.” He forced his voice to stay level. Professional. Though why he was bothering, he wasn’t sure. He’d already blown professional all to hell.
“If that’s true, I’d probably have done the same thing,” Ryan said. “So what’s your proof?”
He jangled his cuffs. “Easier to tell if I can also show.”
Ryan signaled to Leah, who uncuffed him. He rolled his shoulders, then glared at Owen.
“Don’t even think about it,” Ryan said. “You two, in the conference room. Opposite sides of the table. You even think about getting into it, and I will have you in a detention cell so fast it will make your head spin. Quincy, you too.”
“We’ll be joining the conference, too.”
Ollie’s familiar voice came from near the door, and Jasper’s heart skipped a beat as he looked up to see Zelda standing there with Ollie beside her, both in jogging shorts.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ryan began, but Zelda cut him off. “You’re the one who assigned him to protect me, and yesterday I learned that he’d been tasked to kill me. So yeah, I think it is necessary. Unless you want to give me a chance to talk to him now.”
Jasper held his breath, hoping Ryan agreed. He needed to talk to her. Needed to figure out a way to get them back on track. But at the same time, if she was making a clean break from him, he’d just as soon postpone the pain.
“Fine,” Ryan said. “You can come in, but you’re only observing. But not Ollie.”
“Yes, Ollie,” she retorted. “Consider him my counsel.”
Ryan looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he turned to Jasper. “Objections?”
“No. Whatever she wants,” he said, pleasantly surprised when she met his eyes and didn’t turn away until Ryan urged them into the room. Jasper and Owen were seated at opposite ends of the oval table, with Zelda and Ollie on one side, and Ryan on the other.
“I don’t even know where to start,” Ryan said, shooting Jasper an exasperated look.
“Start with this,” Jasper said. “Look especially by the table leg. Have him explain that.”
He passed Ryan his phone, open to the picture of Melinda.
Ryan studied it, then passed it to Owen, who sent it around to Zelda, who winced at the photo, and then gave the phone to Ollie.
“I’m sorry about the girl,” Owen said.” But what does that have to do with me?”
“That message on the paper is for me. Trying to coerce me into killing Zelda. Warning me that if I didn’t, others would die.”
He was looking at Owen, but he could still see Zelda hugging herself, and he hated that his words were causing her pain.
As for Owen, his only reaction was confusion.
“Coerce?” Ryan repeated. “We received an anonymous tip last night. From what I understand, you don’t need coercion to kill. Just a healthy paycheck and a lust for the freelance lifestyle.”
“Seriously?” His temper spiked, his blood positively boiling. “You want to go there? Fine, let’s go there.” He paused long enough to glance at Zelda. This was the part he hadn’t told her yet, but there was no avoiding it now. “Yeah, I left MI6 to go freelance. And yeah, I’ve been contracted for some hits. But I choose my clients, and I investigate the target. I make sure the reasons are sound, and that the justice system has fucked them over.”
“You’re saying you have a conscience.”
“Don’t you dare lay into me about that,” he snapped. “I’m not in that business anymore, and if we’re going to have that talk, then I need to not be the only one on the firing line. You know damn well what your other agents have done before they signed up. Or do we need to ask Quincy and Simon to step into the room?”
He crossed his arms, forcing himself not to look to Zelda. He’d told her none of this, and he was desperately afraid that he’d just dug down another six feet in his own damn grave.
“You’ve made your point, and you’re right. We’re not interested in your freelance career before joining us. But we are interested in the fact that someone offered you payment to kill Zelda.”
“Payment?”
“Information about your family’s killer,” Ryan said, his voice so level that it took all of Jasper’s strength just to keep from punching him.
“I didn’t ask for that, and I didn’t take the assignment.” He forced himself not to look at Zelda, afraid that if he did, the guilt he felt would show on his face.
He hadn’t lied to Ryan—he hadn’t hurt her—but he had thought about it. To his eternal shame, he’d actually considered it. If it had been anyone other than Zelda, he might even have gone through with it.
“Whoever was baiting me promised me information about Sandra’s and Bonnie’s deaths in exchange for killing Zelda.” He lifted a chin. “That wasn’t a price I was prepared to pay.”
“Even though that might be your last chance?” Ryan asked.
Jasper sat up straight, his eyes locked on Ryan’s. “Even so. I dropped the rope, sir. I made a choice, and I dropped the rope.”
“What does that even mean?” Owen blurted.
“It means he loves me,” Zelda said, and when he looked toward her, she mouthed, I love you, too, and her soft smile filled his soul.
Really? He asked silently, then almost floated out of his chair when she nodded.
He drew a breath, forcing himself to focus on the situation with Owen. “That paper—that message to me—isn’t relevant right now. What you need to focus on is the cigar band.”
“Cigar band?” Owen snorted a laugh. “That’s your big bombshell? That’s one of the most popular brands in the world. And to be honest, I haven’t even smoked one yet. I told you they were a gift. Go open the box if you want to.”
A gift.
“A gift from who?”
“My mentor at the CIA. They’re his brand. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps.”
“Oh, bloody hell,” Jasper said. “Who was your mentor?”
Owen’s brows rose. “Seriously? You’re going from thinking I’m the spawn of Satan to pursuing my mentor? The guy’s a legend. And he’s not even in the CIA anymore. He’s got his own business.”
“A name,” Jasper said.
“He’s CIA. You know I can’t reveal—”
“A name.”
Owen looked to Ryan. “Are you hearing this crap?”
“Just give him the name.”
“Fine. Whatever. Carter Malloy. He’s a hell of a guy.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Carter Malloy,” Ollie repeated. “Carter Malloy was your mentor?”
“Yeah,” Owen said. “What’s the big deal?”
“Not a thing,” Ollie said, in what Jasper considered a completely unbelievable tone. “I’ve met the man. Back when I was working for the FBI. Joint task force.”
“So you know. He’s had my back since I was a trainee. Helped me get in as an analyst, climb through the ranks.”
“Recommended you for this job, too,” Ryan said. “Almost looks like he wanted someone inside with eyes on this operation.”
“No, that’s not—”
“And he smokes San Cristobal Ovations,” Jasper pointed out. “Lots of little things piling up. Not looking good for your buddy.”
“This is bullshit,” Owen said. “You have literally zero evidence.”
“We know that someone wants me dead,” Zelda said. “And we know that someone set up Jasper, trying to entice him to kill me. I know I’m not the most well loved person on the planet, but the odds that two people proactively want me dead seems slim. So I’m going out on a limb and saying it’s the same person.”
“Makes sense to me,” Ollie said. “And, gee, I wonder who might stand to benefit if you die.”
“Carter’s my stepfather,” she told Owen. “Just in case you need to catch up. And if I die, he and my mom get the land and house. Which, to be clear, is worth a fuck ton of money.”
Jasper fought a smile. The woman he loved had a serious bite.
“To be fair,” Ollie put in, “it’s Mrs. Malloy who would inherit. But I have a feeling that’s the kind of challenge that Carter Malloy can overcome in his sleep.”
Owen looked at each of them in turn, finally stopping at Jasper. “You all really believe this. You think he’s dirty.”
“I do,” Jasper said. “I think he killed Melanie. I think he tried to bait me into killing Zelda.”
Owen dragged his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. “Okay, okay. I’m listening. But this can’t be right. There has to be an explanation.”
“Hold up, everybody,” Ollie said as he lifted his phone and shook it. “I just got something here.”
Everyone at the table turned to look at him. “What is it?” Zelda asked.
“So here’s the thing,” Ollie said. “You know how Matthew Holt told you two about the art files for the little target icon that goes above all the chapters in the book?”
Jasper looked at Ryan, who nodded.
“Well, he gave me a call and asked me to do some follow-up. We sent a forensics team into Holt’s offices, and we were able to track down an unauthorized download of that folder by a data processing team member.”
“Well, that’s excellent,” Zelda said. “Isn’t it?” She looked to Jasper, who nodded.
“I think it might be,” Ollie said. “Let me walk you through it. We pinpointed the date of the download, which corresponded to twenty-four hours before the threat appeared in Zelda’s mail. We also knew the location from which he downloaded it, and after watching him, we realized that he’s a creature of habit. He takes the same route to and from work every day.”
Jasper looked at Zelda and shrugged. He knew Ollie had a point; he just wished he would get to it.
“We had a team of agents canvas the area. Turns out he lives close and walked. This was good for us. It took some time, but we were able to check video footage at most of the locations along his regular route. ATMs, security cameras, traffic cameras, the like.”
“And you found something,” Zelda guessed.
“They just emailed it to me. Is there a way to project it up so everyone can see?”
“Send it to me,” Ryan said, and a few minutes later they were looking at a wall screen onto which the video was projected. At first, it was just the image of a street corner somewhere in Los Angeles. Then, a man came into view.
He was tall and thin and wore his hair pulled back in a ponytail. He stood on a street corner, shifting his weight back and forth from foot to foot. It looked like someone who was either very, very nervous, or desperately needed a restroom.
A few minutes later, another man joined him, and Ponytail passed an envelope to the second man. From the angle, it was impossible to see the second man’s face, and Jasper was just about to ask if there was video with an angle across the street, when the man turned.
It was Carter Malloy.
“I don’t get it,” Owen said. “I don’t get what you’re trying to say.” He glared at Ollie, as if Ollie was messing up everything. Jasper guessed that from Owen’s perspective, he probably was.
“It’s simple,” Ollie said. “Someone stole a particular file with a graphic on it from Hardline Entertainment. That graphic somehow ended up on a death threat sent to Zelda. We know that Peter Danvoy—Mr. Ponytail in the video—accessed that folder during a time when he was not officially logged into the computer and on a station that didn’t normally belong to him. We also know that on that same day, he entered into a transaction with Carter Malloy, someone we suspect might harbor ill will toward Zelda. Considering the two met, the probability is high that Carter acquired the graphics file and sent the threat to Zelda.”
He cleared his throat. “That’s it,” he added, and everyone around the table nodded, with the exception of Owen, who still looked shell-shocked.
“There’s more,” Zelda said. “I just remembered it, but it supports the conclusion that Carter’s involved. The other day, my mother mentioned that she was annoyed I hadn’t offered to get her tickets for the gala. I didn’t think anything about it at the time. My mother is constantly annoyed with me, and I mostly just tune her out. But I just realized something,” she continued.
“How did she know about the gala?” Jasper said.
“Exactly.” Zelda looked around the table. “The gala that’s being thrown in honor of Intercontinental is meant to be a surprise. No one who has tickets to the real premier knows that they’re going to get to see the trailer. It’s an odd publicity stunt in that there is no publicity, but that’s the way Holt’s company wants to handle it.”
“But somehow your mother knew,” Jasper said. “Probably because she heard it from your stepfather. And I’m guessing he knows because he’s the one who’s up to something.”
Everyone at the table except Owen nodded, either absorbing the information or agreeing. And they all turned to look at the odd man out.
