“Carol is not a spy!”
“Hunter said the same thing. He said he’d check old surveillance feeds and see if anyone on the team had met with Deanna or if he could spot her staking out the carriage house. Phone records, GPS tracking, anything he could get. Hunter accessed this photo thirty minutes before he left me a panicked message. I think he knew who this guy is.”
“I wasn’t here yesterday.”
“Who was?”
“I—I don’t know. I didn’t think anyone.”
“Can you check the logs?”
Colton typed. “No one came in or out yesterday during that time.”
“Obviously someone did. And they hacked your security to erase it.”
“I’ll recover it.”
Sean doubted that would work. If the hacker was good enough to manipulate the logs, they were good enough to destroy them. “You can’t let anyone know what you’re doing.”
“Who would betray us?” Colton said.
Again, the guilt ate at Sean’s gut. But he wasn’t the one who met with this stranger, and he wasn’t the one who killed Hunter.
“If you want out, I understand.” Colton’s voice was defeatist. “I never kept evidence on you. Never. You can walk free and clear.”
“I didn’t help you because I thought you’d turn over anything to the feds. I helped you because we are friends.” He felt grossly uncomfortable playing both sides, but if he told Colton now about the undercover operation, Colton would ice him out. Sean focused on the end goal: stopping Paxton. And now finding out everything he could about this man.
Sean said, “I’m not leaving you in the middle of this mess. I think you’re in danger.”
“I’m willing to take the risk. This is more important than me.”
Colton would not budge. Sean had no choice: Not only did he have to stop Paxton, he also had to protect Colton.
“I’ll be back in three hours. Don’t tell anyone about this. Please, Colton—keep this between you and me.”
“I promise.”
* * *
Noah took the subway back to his apartment so he could shower and change. He’d been up all night, except for the hour he slept on the floor of Suzanne’s cubicle. When he’d been an Air Force Raven he’d slept in far worse conditions, but he was no longer as young as he once was. At thirty-six he was feeling the effects of too little sleep.
The shower woke him up, followed by strong coffee. He was sitting at his desk finishing his cup when his phone rang. It was Sean.
“I’m on my way back to New York. I found something on Hunter’s phone. It’s a picture taken outside Colton’s late yesterday morning. A guy I don’t recognize, but it was after Hunter downloaded the photo that he left me the message.”
“Call me as soon as you land. Stockton is here; he wants to shut this thing down, but is willing to give you time with Colton to see if he’ll turn state’s evidence against Senator Paxton. Can you do that?”
“I don’t know,” Sean admitted. “But we still have thirty-six hours—have you gotten any closer to finding out who killed Hunter?”
“His security cameras went directly to his laptop. We found it this morning, at the warehouse you told us about. Destroyed. Dead guy there. Timothy Corbett—name ring a bell?”
“No.” Sean hadn’t found any security footage from Hunter’s apartment on the cloud server.
“He was beat up and shot. NYPD is processing the scene. Suzanne and the detective in charge, Tucker, are at Corbett’s apartment.”
“I’m going to talk to Colton as soon as I get there.”
“Don’t do anything without talking to me.”
“I’ll play it by ear.”
“Sean—” But he’d hung up. Dammit! Noah’s phone vibrated and he got the image from Sean. Blond, thin, late thirties. Noah didn’t know him. He sent the image to Rick Stockton, then left for FBI headquarters.
It was going to be another long day.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Noah arrived at headquarters before Suzanne. He took the time to go over his notes and looked at the preliminary reports from the Hunter Nash shooting. Noah hoped to get Deanna Brighton into an interview room later this morning—while he understood that the Office of Professional Responsibility might be getting involved, he had urgent questions that needed immediate answers.
Noah had a hunch that Paxton’s mole might be Deanna Brighton. Paxton found ways to use people with grudges, and if Deanna was vulnerable—possibly by having broken the law in her pursuit of Sean—Paxton could manipulate her far more easily. What Sean had said about Sergio Russo yesterday—how Paxton used a father’s grief to turn him into a hired gun—could also apply to someone like Agent Brighton, who felt cheated somehow when Sean didn’t go to prison for his crime at Stanford.
Somehow it made a twisted sense—if Paxton knew that Sean was working for Colton, he had to believe that Sean was going to try to screw him. What better plan than to get Sean out of the operation by having an agent with a vendetta detaining him?
Noah realized he might be the one to blow Sean’s cover. There was no good reason for Noah to be in New York when he worked out of D.C., and Paxton knew Noah worked special projects for Rick Stockton. If Russo followed Sean, he might see Noah and make the connection. Or, the mole might have already talked to Paxton, which made Sean’s position more precarious.
If Paxton called Colton off the PBM break-in, then Noah would know that someone he’d met in the last twenty-four hours was the mole. It would certainly narrow down their search. He’d bring each and every one of them into interrogation with him and Rick Stockton, search phones and computers, whatever it took to find out how Paxton was getting inside information, and why.
Ultimately, it might be the best way to shut down the operation and bring Sean in safely. Noah hoped that the next call he got was from Sean telling him Colton was backing down and had evidence to force Jonathan Paxton to cut a deal.
The flip side was that even if Paxton suspected it was a setup, he might go through with it and find a way to wiggle out of any crime. The senator was very good at that. Noah hadn’t had time to track him down yesterday after Sean’s confrontation with Russo, and then Hunter Nash was killed. There was no way of knowing if Paxton was at his New York apartment. Rick Stockton was sending two trusted agents from national headquarters to keep an eye on Paxton, but they were still en route, ETA noon.
An e-mail from Sean popped up on Noah’s computer. The message was clear:
Here’s my statement. It’s complete and accurate. I swear to it under penalty of perjury and whatever else is necessary.
Noah clicked on the link, expecting a Word document to open; instead, he got a video file.
Sean was certainly audacious.
Noah stared at the video and listened to Sean’s recounting of everything he’d done from the moment he left Noah at five to eight on Tuesday evening until he escaped out of the tunnel at East 33rd Street.
Then Noah started it again and took notes.
Noah’s cell phone rang. It was Rick Stockton.
“Did you get Sean’s statement?” Rick asked without preamble.
“Just watched it, sir.” Incredible. But Noah didn’t know whether to pat Sean on the back or deck him. He wanted to do both.
“Get it to Brighton’s boss and her partner. Have Agent Madeaux massage this through NYPD at her discretion. In case there are any doubts.”
“I told Sean to come in. Again.”
“And is he?”
“No. I’m concerned that he’s been compromised. If the mole is any good, they’ll know I’m working for you and run my name by Paxton.”
“I share that concern, and I’ll add one more to it. Duke Rogan landed at JFK this morning. Came in on the red-eye. Find him. If Sean’s cover isn’t blown yet, his brother may jeopardize it.”
“Sean’s not going to listen to me. But he’ll listen to you.” Noah hoped.
“I’ve thought about it all night.
And ten minutes ago I would have agreed. Except we IDed the man in the photo you sent. Kurt LeGrand.”
“Never heard of him.”
“I’m forwarding you his file. It’s thin. He worked for a financial services company, Avery and Block, that went down for mortgage fraud to the tune of tens of millions of dollars. The owner killed himself two years ago, two principals are in prison, but the money has never been found.”
“And LeGrand has something to do with the missing money?”
Noah didn’t quite see how this all factored into the current operation. Pharmaceutical secrets and mortgage fraud?
“He’s been flagged and our white-collar division has been watching him ever since. But he hasn’t done anything that makes us think he has the money, and he cooperated in the investigation. His financials have been completely audited, and he’s clean.”
“According to Sean, Colton Thayer doesn’t know him.”
“We only have bare-bones background information on him. He’s thirty-eight, born in Boston, graduated from Boston College with a business degree. Father was career military and died in a training accident when LeGrand was twelve. Mother remarried and moved out of the area when LeGrand was seventeen, but he lived with friends and graduated from high school with his class. As far we know, he has no real relationship with his mother. Had a series of finance-related jobs in Boston, then New York, then took the job with the ill-fated Avery and Block. For the last two years he’s run his own financial consulting business. Lives in White Plains, New York. Does well, above average compared to others in his business, but like I said, he’s been audited and he’s clean.”
“Are there any ties between LeGrand and Senator Paxton?”
“Nothing on the surface. I’ll dig around. Maybe Thayer is working two separate jobs, and keeping Sean in the dark about this one.”
Noah rubbed his forehead as he sipped tepid black coffee. “I still think we should pull Sean.”
“Let’s give him a couple hours. He’s talking to Thayer, right?”
“Yes.”
“Hold on.” He put Noah on hold again, but it was only for half a minute. “Noah, Lucy Kincaid is here. She says she spoke to Sean.”
“He visited her last night. I talked to her this morning. She knows what’s going on.” That also bugged Noah. Sean had always said he wanted to be the one to tell Lucy about Martin Holdings and this undercover investigation, but he agreed to wait until it was over. Did he think he wasn’t going to survive? Did he know something he hadn’t shared with Noah?
“I’ll explain the situation to her,” Rick said. “What’s the status there?”
“The same. We have thirty-six hours to shut this down.”
“Keep me informed every step.”
“And Sean?”
Rick hesitated, then said, “Keep him in play. He’s in the best position to find out what’s really going on. Give him everything we have on LeGrand, and order him to check in regularly. Find his brother and read him in; make sure he stays put and doesn’t interfere. If Senator Paxton slips away this time, next time will be that much harder.”
“Understood.” Noah hung up and rubbed his eyes. He sent a note to Suzanne asking if Brighton was in the building. He didn’t like how her boss wouldn’t let him talk to her last night. He wanted to corner her. He’d get a better read if he was face-to-face.
He wanted her pulled, put on administrative leave, anything to keep her away from Sean Rogan for the next thirty-six hours.
* * *
Lucy was surprised that Rick Stockton himself came out to bring her to his office. “Thank you for waiting,” Rick said.
“I appreciate you seeing me; I know you’re busy, but I need peace of mind.”
He nodded. “Please sit down.”
Rick didn’t sit behind his desk but in one of the visitor chairs, motioning for Lucy to take the other.
“Sean told me that he’s working undercover for you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Between Sean and Noah, I think I have the big picture. I want to help. Tell me what you need me to do.”
“I pulled in Suzanne Madeaux to partner with Noah. You’re still at the Academy.”
That didn’t come out right, Lucy realized. She backtracked a bit. “I already got permission from my class supervisor for time off. I can’t concentrate knowing that Sean is in danger. And if I can help—”
“How?”
“Anything. Background. Research. Sean said Agent Brighton lied in her statement and—”
“Hold it. That shooting is under investigation. You can’t go anywhere near it, considering your relationship with Sean.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. But background checks, reverifying information, tracking e-mails, phone records, grunt work. I need to do something.” Rick stared at her for a minute. She sat straight, prayed she didn’t look as desperate as she sounded. “I understand I should be at the Academy right now, that if I take time off I could jeopardize my slot. I’m willing to take the risk.”
“We just identified a new player in the mix, and we don’t know where he fits in. He’s a financial advisor who worked for a company that was under investigation for mortgage fraud when the owner committed suicide. Now he’s a private consultant. No red flags, not a lot in his background. My assistant is verifying his information; you can help her. Your psychology background will be an asset.”
“I’ll get on it.” She stood, then turned to face him. “I need to ask you something.”
“I’ll answer if I can.”
“When you and Noah asked Sean to go undercover, he admitted he’d committed a felony. Is he taking this risk so he doesn’t go to prison?”
“Sit down.”
She sat, clasping her fingers to resist fidgeting.
“This is between us, Lucy.”
She nodded.
“Sean’s crime could have landed him ten to twenty years in prison. He would have opted for a jury trial, I’m sure, and he may have gotten off because his crime is one of those gray areas.”
“Because he hacked into the bank and returned the funds to the retired investors the Martin Holdings company stole from.”
Rick almost smiled. “Yes.”
“If Sean didn’t tell you what he’d done, you would never have known.”
“Someone knew.”
“Jonathan Paxton.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s why Sean’s doing this.” Sean was the most loyal person Lucy had ever met; it had to be killing him to investigate his friends. “So Sean played Robin Hood nearly ten years ago, and no one ever pursued him? The FBI didn’t suspect anything?”
“No crime was reported, and if it had been, there wasn’t any evidence.”
“What about the other people in the company?”
“Sean doesn’t think that anyone with Martin Holdings knew he did it, and suspected that Robert Martin was the sole person responsible. I looked into the company and they disbanded days after Sean dealt with them.”
“And the principals?”
“That’s tricky—Sean didn’t know who they were; there were no names attached, and the Martin Holdings company was held by another company, and so on. I don’t think he cared to follow the path—the answers would have been there—but now, they’re gone. I’ve had some of my best people looking at it for the last two months, since Sean told me about it, but it’s nearly ten years old and data is stored differently now.”
“But someone knew, and told the senator.”
“We don’t know how the senator found out. But Paxton blackmailed Sean.” He paused, then said, “If Sean hadn’t agreed to go undercover, I never would have investigated his crime. I promised him that on the condition of him coming clean. It was ultimately his decision.”
“He didn’t want it hanging over his head. Paxton could have used it again and again—”
“He didn’t want it hanging over you, either.”
Lucy knew that
was true, but hearing Rick tell her that Sean’s primary reason for risking his life and his reputation was to protect her career twisted her with guilt. Sean should have known she’d love him no matter what he’d done in his past. Her career meant nothing to her without Sean to share her life with. He should have told her from the beginning, when Paxton first blackmailed him. She was angry with both him and herself that he hadn’t, but maybe she hadn’t made it clear to him that he could trust her explicitly.
Why do you love me?
Sean was one of the smartest, most confident people Lucy had ever met, but he had an irrational fear that he didn’t deserve her. That fear led him to take these risks, as if by being bold he could earn her love, when he’d already won her heart many times over.
“I’m glad Noah is watching his back,” Lucy finally said, uncomfortable with the scrutiny that Rick placed on her. “Sean does a good job taking care of himself, but we all need backup.”
“I’ll move heaven and earth to protect him, Lucy.”
She nodded and mustered up a half-smile. “Direct me to my temporary desk. I’m ready to get to work.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Deanna had no intention of returning to FBI headquarters, not this morning. Everyone was running around like she was at fault when all she’d done was her job.
Why did everyone think Sean Rogan was innocent? He was guilty of something. He always had been. That saying, that tigers can’t change their stripes? That was Rogan. He was a hacker twelve years ago; he was a hacker now. He destroyed lives and didn’t care who he hurt.
What really bothered her more than Rogan’s brazen disregard for the law or that he’d run from her after being caught red-handed at a murder scene was that everyone in her office had accepted an outsider’s word over hers. She didn’t care that Agent Noah Armstrong worked in the D.C. office, or that he was some rising star, or that he was vouching for Rogan.
Stolen (Lucy Kincaid Novels) Page 18