“Aran macCullen?” Sinclair asked.
She shook her head. “Not strong enough. It matches the signature I picked up in the morgue, though. If I know the person, I can gauge how old the signature is by how it’s degrading, but without knowing who was here, it could either be someone with Carr or someone watching the investigator work. I’ve got a good fix on this signature, though.”
“So now what?”
She grinned up at him. “We play poker.”
CHAPTER 32
LAURA STARED OUT the window of the office at Legacy. The faint reflection of Fallon Moor’s face stared back at her as she tapped into her hyper memory recall. Between the research profile compiled by InterSec and her own interview, she processed everything she knew about what Fallon Moor knew. DeWinter had left a message for her—for Fallon—that a project-update meeting was scheduled, and she needed to be there. No other details were given.
She reviewed the list of possibilities. Intelligence reports indicated that Moor was a facilitator of sorts, using her connections within an underground network to make things happen. She also had a keen eye for finances and knowledge of how to move through electronic banking systems without leaving a trace. Legacy had a number of backers with substantial means, but they wanted deniability in the event Legacy’s more shady operations became public. Moor’s skills provided both sides with satisfaction. Legacy got its fund. Its backers got their anonymity.
Laura checked her watch. Has she come up with anything else? she sent to Terryn. Despite being on leave, he had stationed himself outside Moor’s holding cell again to relay messages. As long as Genda didn’t find out and make an issue of it, they could continue the Legacy investigation.
No, he replied.
They had been trying all morning to get Moor to discuss what she thought the meeting was about. She offered the likelihood that it was about the rocket launchers from the InterSec raid. Laura suspected that was wrong. It didn’t tell them anything they already knew. Of course, Legacy wasn’t happy about the lost weapons. That was self-evident. But why have a major meeting about it? The email listed a dozen people, none of them on the company directory, all of the addresses false or masked accounts.
Keep at her, Laura sent.
She fixed her hair in the reflection of the window, then picked up a pad and pen and went down to the conference room. The small room had no windows and no telephone. Eight people, including DeWinter, sat in silence, waiting as others arrived. No cell phones or PDAs were out. Laura suspected electronic jamming surrounded the room.
Laura met DeWinter’s glance as she sat a few places away from her. The two men to either side did not acknowledge her. She recognized about half the men and women, most businesspeople with strong anti-fey politics. The only other fey person in the room was an elf. Out of habit, she triggered her hyper memory so that she could recall faces in detail later.
“That’s everyone. Our other two guests could not attend,” said DeWinter.
“Let’s move quickly. I have a plane to catch,” a plain-faced woman said. Her name floated into Laura’s memory: Rosa Lentner, an executive with a major science research firm in the Midwest.
DeWinter reviewed his notes. “Our acquisition is imminent. The funds we provided have enabled us to bypass several security measures.”
“I thought we weren’t prepared to receive the package?” Lentner asked.
“Yes and no,” DeWinter said. “The system is not ready, but we have facilities to contain the acquisition. It’s only a matter of a few days.”
They’re talking about an acquisition and a package, she sent Terryn.
A large, overweight man Laura didn’t recognize leaned forward. “I don’t like to think that the pod isn’t ready.”
Ask Moor about the pod, Laura sent.
A tolerant smile creased DeWinter’s face. “I assure you, it’s fine. The same technology for the pod can be used as a temporary solution in a separate room.”
She’s being evasive, Terryn sent. She said it sounds like weapons. Legacy has been interested in military transports.
That was new, Laura thought. What about this pod? What is it?
Please repeat. You’re fading, Terryn said.
Laura shot a look at the elf. At close range, she was able to sense his body signature, but she didn’t notice that he was using essence. The pod, Terryn. What is the pod?
Faint . . . intermittent . . . he sent. The sending sounded broken and weak, as if it had lost its energy.
Terryn? She received no response but hid her frustration. Someone had jammed her sendings. Given the lack of electronics in the room, it didn’t surprise her that they employed essence wards, too. Legacy might not like the fey’s abilities, but they sure liked the benefits.
The elf moved his head in her direction, and she wondered if he sensed her sending. She could feel flutters in the air when people did sendings. It was an ability that powerful fey tended to have. He didn’t look directly at her and didn’t say anything, so she didn’t think the jamming was coming from him.
“Why the rush? We have more than enough room in the schedule,” said Lentner.
“This window of opportunity might close. We’ve already had one failed attempt. I don’t want another,” said DeWinter.
Lentner didn’t respond, but an older gentleman steepled his fingers together as he shifted in his seat. “Where did these funds come from?” he asked.
DeWinter looked at Laura. With Moor’s access codes, she had made the transfer herself. As she had said to Sinclair, she wasn’t happy about helping an enemy, even doing their work, without knowing the full extent of what was going on, but sometimes it was necessary to reach the larger goal. “A liquid asset account.”
“That’s not what I asked,” said the man.
Laura glowered at him. “I know. That’s all you’re getting.”
The man clenched his jaw. “The transfer was substantial. I have to make accountings for the funds.”
“Please assure our benefactors that the funds came from a new, unexpected source,” said DeWinter.
Interesting bit of information to relay to Genda, Laura thought. If a new player was on the scene, it wouldn’t be in the data files InterSec had. “Can we expect more?” she asked.
An uncomfortable smile twitched the corner of DeWinter’s mouth, and she worried she might have made the wrong move. “Not likely. It appears to be a once-only event,” he said.
So, whoever it was wanted this acquisition to happen, then to have nothing more to do with Legacy, she thought, a random variable in the process. That likely meant whatever Legacy was planning would have broader ramifications than its own goals. No one gave away twelve million dollars without a direct, possibly personal, interest.
“Are you saying you’ve brought someone in without our approval?” Lentner asked.
The woman was vocal and persistent. Laura thought she might bear looking into more closely.
“You misunderstand,” said DeWinter. “The benefactor knows nothing of our operations. Our brief association is of mutual but separate benefit.”
Definitely meaning the package would have broader impact, Laura thought.
“I still don’t like the package being on hand like this. The longer we have it before we are ready to execute, the higher risk for exposure.”
DeWinter rested his hands on the table. “I am considering accelerating the timetable. We have a very timely event that might provide greater success than our original plan.”
Lentner made a dismissive sound. “You always press like this, DeWinter. You’re getting too rash. We need to be fully prepared.”
“No names here,” he said.
That made her angry. “This isn’t a game, DeWinter. We all know each other.”
“Security. If you cannot refrain from being careful with your speech, you will have a hard time in front of a Senate hearing,” he said.
As Lentner and DeWinter challenged each other with stares, the overw
eight man turned his attention to Laura. “Your absence from Monday’s meeting has caused concern.”
Moor hadn’t mentioned any Monday meetings, and Laura had no idea who the man was. “I had a more pressing matter to attend to,” she said.
His eyebrows arched. “More pressing? What could have possibly had more importance than”—he glanced at DeWinter—“replacement for the lost supplies?”
Laura didn’t want to continue the conversation. Unknown territory was dangerous territory. “Are you questioning me?”
The man seemed to gather some courage. “Yes, in fact, I am.”
Laura boosted some essence into her ruby and accessed part of her template. She let her hand twitch against the table surface, let the fingers lengthen and her nails shift to claws. She took a calculated risk. “I don’t answer to you.”
All eyes in the room went to her hand. The threat of going boggart intimidated many people, and having most of the people in the room afraid of the fey in the first place only added to it.
“I have already discussed that with her and approved of her decision,” said DeWinter. He smiled at the man, but Laura knew the look was for Moor.
She sensed the lie, but she didn’t need that ability to know they hadn’t discussed anything. They hadn’t. This sort of situation was the reason personal relationships in an operation were bad. They created competing priorities and loyalties. It was one of the reasons she worried about getting involved with Sinclair. Still, he had made a good case for ignoring that worry, and she was letting him convince her.
“What is this meeting about?” she snapped.
People shifted in their seats, sending furtive looks at DeWinter. He had called the meeting. His level of authority was evident. “To announce the shorter schedule of operation. I will have the precise date in a day or two. In the meantime, it is imperative we use the next few hours to protect our assets. I suggest we all initiate the market-management plans we’ve discussed.”
The overweight man frowned at Laura. “That is precisely one of the items discussed at the meeting you missed.”
Laura had nothing to work with to defend herself. She didn’t know the plans or the players. DeWinter’s answer to her question rang true in her senses. The intent of the meeting was more to inform others that he was speeding up his schedule than anything substantive. The situation had reached the point where the risk of exposing her lack of understanding of what was going on outweighed whatever additional information she gained. She stood, sending her chair skittering back. “You heard what you need to know. We have the funds, the opportunity, and the schedule. Get moving. I don’t have time for this.”
She stalked out of the room, leaving behind a ring of stunned faces. She had not been in her office more than ten minutes before DeWinter arrived. “That wasn’t very diplomatic, love,” he said.
With a practiced air of guilt, she smiled. “I’m not much into coddling, Adam.”
He chuckled. “True, but some of our relationships are fragile. We need to make them feel part of the process.”
She strolled around her desk and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. “You call the shots, Adam. They needed to be reminded.”
He gathered her hand in his and kissed it. “You’ve been on edge lately the last few days. Not yourself.”
She lowered her head against his shoulder. “I know. I have a lot to keep track of. I promise I’ll be my normal self again soon.”
He held her and kissed her on the forehead. “I love when you allow me to see you like this.”
Keeping her head down, she rubbed her hand on his chest. “You make it easy to be myself.”
He kissed her again. “I have to go. Some of them want to talk privately.”
She broke their embrace. “Okay. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with the new schedule.”
“You’ll be the first to know,” he said.
Laura breathed a sigh of relief as he left. DeWinter knew how to run a secret operation—no written evidence, no names, coded phrasings. She gathered her things, not wanting to risk getting cornered by any of the other meeting attendees.
She had some good leads. DeWinter’s accelerated schedule worried her. Less time to find answers meant the possibility of failure. She refused to accept that as an option.
CHAPTER 33
THROUGHOUT THE FOLLOWING day, dozens of Inverni staff had paraded through the Guildhouse conference room, their faces stoic or apprehensive or annoyed. Laura had forgotten how large entourages could be. At the start of the interviews, she had been cordial and conversational, but that soon fell away in the monotony of reciting the same questions over and over.
Terryn surprised her by walking in with the last person on the list, a male brownie attached to the Inverni administrative staff. She had tried to coordinate a meeting with him throughout the previous day, but he had remained behind closed doors with Draigen and her staff.
The brownie sat with poise, unflustered by the presence of Terryn, whom he had to recognize. Laura picked up the one-sheet survey she had had all the visiting Inverni fill out. “You’re Davvi Norrin?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re on Draigen’s staff?”
The man did not move at all. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You wrote down ‘assistant.’ What do you do?”
Davvi tilted his head. “I assist, ma’am.”
Laura didn’t sense any sarcasm or guile. “In what respect?”
He lowered his gaze as if trying to read what was in front of Laura. “Schedules, ma’am.”
She glanced at him. “For?”
He leaned away, resuming his stiff posture. “The Lady Regent, ma’am.”
“Can you be more specific?” she asked.
“No, ma’am,” he said.
Caught off guard, Laura chuckled. “Why not?”
He frowned, his thin, pale eyebrows pulling together in sincere puzzlement. “I work for the Lady Regent, ma’am.”
Laura pursed her lips. “We’ve covered that already.”
Davvi nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Laura stared at him, trying not to let her frustration build. He didn’t seem to be paying any attention. “What do you schedule for the Lady Regent?”
“Her business, ma’am.”
“Can you be more specific on that?”
“No, ma’am.”
Laura closed her eyes. She had been at it for hours and had no idea what was going on with the man. She didn’t need to continue with the interview anyway. He was a brownie, and the signature she was looking for was fairy. His silence intrigued and annoyed her, as if he had something to hide. “You seem reluctant to answer my questions, Davvi.”
He looked surprised. “No, ma’am.”
“This agent has my trust, Davvi. You may answer her as you would me,” Terryn said.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
Laura shot a curious glance at Terryn. “Where were you when the Lady Regent was fired upon?”
“Here, ma’am,” he said.
“The Guildhouse?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
His abrupt responses baffled her. “Where in the Guildhouse?”
“Here, ma’am,” he said.
“Here?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The urge to snap at the brownie welled up within her. He didn’t seem to be uninformative on purpose. She reminded herself that she had been asking fruitless questions all day, and he hadn’t. She reviewed his answers in her head when realization struck her. “You mean you were in this room at the time of the sniper attack, Davvi?”
“Yes, ma’am. As I said, ma’am.” The look on his face seemed puzzled that he needed to clarify.
Truth permeated his words. Davvi Norrin worked in an exacting environment and had learned to be careful, if too precise. She gave up. “I think we’re fine, sir. Thank you for your time.”
He hesitated, confused perhaps or unsure. He stood and bowed
. “Thank you, Agent Tate.”
Surprised yet again, she cocked her head. “How do you know my name?”
A subtle shift in his shoulders passed as a shrug. “I schedule the Lady Regent’s business, ma’am.”
She smiled, sincerely. “Thank you. The Lady Regent is lucky to have you.”
He bowed again. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Laura swiveled her chair toward Terryn. “I think I was just trumped in an interrogation.”
Terryn stared out the window, focusing at something across the way on the Mall. “Davvi’s been with my family for as long as I can remember. He wouldn’t tell you the time of day if he thought you would use it against a macCullen. We called him the Stone when we were children.”
“That’s loyalty,” she said.
Terryn didn’t move from the window. His pointed wings stood straight up from his back, their pale blue translucence flickering with shots of white and indigo. Tension wrapped around him like a veil. “And hard to come by these days.”
She pushed her notes aside and joined him by the window. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I had Jono stationed in the park as a hidden backup. No one knows that. He noticed the protection barrier weaken before Draigen came out. It was subtle and happened twice. That means the shield wasn’t interfered with by natural means.”
“What are you suggesting?” Terryn asked.
Laura gave him a significant look. “Someone among the Inverni Guardians might be a traitor. The weakness happened on Aran’s end of the barrier. Someone who knows Aran would also know how he builds his spells and be able to interfere with them.”
Terryn pursed his lips. “We’ve already established that Sean Carr was the perpetrator.”
Laura crossed her arms. “I’ve established he wasn’t working alone. I have a body signature tag on a possible accomplice.”
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