LeGrand was near forty, though his manners and demeanor were a generation more mature than those of Sean’s peers. To Sean it seemed like an act. Like the house and table was all a stage and Kurt LeGrand with his careful speech was the star. All eyes on him. Everyone took his lead.
Except—
Sean glanced at Skye. She had an odd, smug smirk on her face, as if she had a secret no one else knew. She’d taken the time to shower and change since they were at PBM. The care that LeGrand took in presenting this meal was the same care Skye took in presenting herself.
Why? What was going on with these two?
And Evan—where did he fit in? When Sean first rejoined the group, Skye went out of her way to show him that she and Evan were involved, yet Sean didn’t feel the connection between them. But he’d miscalculated. He’d thought Evan was the traitor, when now he clearly saw that Skye was the one in charge. Evan was following orders.
But was Skye pulling LeGrand’s strings? Or trying to? Because looking LeGrand in the eye, Sean wasn’t certain he was completely sane. Smart, calculating, but he had a layer of self-containment that made Sean think of a grenade. If someone pulled the pin, he would explode.
“A toast,” LeGrand said. Skye and Evan held up their glasses. Everyone looked at Sean, and from his expression Sean knew that LeGrand would make good on his threat to kill Duke.
Sean picked up his glass.
LeGrand smiled. “To freedom.” He sipped.
Sean pretended to sip. He didn’t know if it was poisoned, but he also didn’t want to participate in this farce.
“Let’s eat,” Skye said, breaking a long silence. “Kurt is an amazing chef. Aren’t you, sweetheart.” She rose from her seat and went over to kiss him full on the mouth. LeGrand smiled when she was done.
“This is all for you, Skye.” He looked at Sean. “And you let her go. All looks, no brains for you, right, Sean?”
Sean didn’t let the bastard bait him.
The bodyguard, Eric, brought the food out and everyone dished up. Skye served Sean.
LeGrand motioned to Sean’s plate. “You’ll need your strength.”
“What do you want from me?”
“So crass. We’ll talk business after our meal.”
Sean pushed his plate off the table and stood up. “I’m not eating a meal with the people who killed Colton and kidnapped my brother.”
The bodyguard pulled a gun and aimed it at Sean.
LeGrand slowly rose from his seat. “Do not insult me in my home. You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing.”
“You owe me a fortune, and then your life.”
Sean stared at him and didn’t say anything.
“Do you remember Robert Martin?”
Sean remained silent.
“Of course you do. He was a nobody. I made him. All that money you thought you stole from him? You took it from me. He was simply the figurehead.”
LeGrand grinned. “Robert Martin. You knew him and you stole every dime from him; then you killed him when he was going to turn you in.” He paused. “At least, that’s what the evidence will prove.”
Sean’s mind instantly grasped what LeGrand had said. Robert Martin, the man who had bilked millions of dollars from retirees. The reason Sean left MIT as soon as he could, why he got out of Colton’s group. When Sean found out Martin had committed suicide, the guilt had been overwhelming.
And LeGrand was part of the scheme.
“I didn’t kill him, and there’s no evidence that says I did. And I didn’t steal anything from him, or you. I returned the money you scammed from the pensions of retired folks—”
LeGrand slammed his fist on the table. “You would say anything to get off the hook. You destroyed everything I had built, and I will destroy you. Unless you make amends. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You’ll regain my fortune for me, and you will do it so your brother and girlfriend will live. If you don’t think I can get to Lucy Kincaid, you’re mistaken.”
Sean didn’t believe that LeGrand could, except that there was a mole in the FBI. Sean hadn’t figured out who it was, but if Rick Stockton was right, that mole could be a killer.
And as Sean thought about it, he realized that if Lucy didn’t know there was a danger she couldn’t protect herself. Snipers, poison, bombs—there were ways to get to someone even if they took precautions. It was much easier when they didn’t know there was a threat.
“Sit, eat; then I’ll explain. But you will not see your brother again, you will not know if Lucy is safe, until you complete the job.”
Sean managed to swallow three or four bites of the meal. He didn’t know if it was good or not; his senses were dull and he couldn’t concentrate on anything except trying to figure out how to escape or contact Noah.
He determined that there were at least six people. LeGrand, Skye, Evan, Eric, and two unknown men. Eric wasn’t the man who’d been dragging Sean before they tranquilized him. He didn’t know where the other two men were. And there could be more.
Sean hated not knowing what he was up against. He watched the dynamics between LeGrand and Skye in particular; it was clear that both thought they were in charge. Sean put his money on Skye—she was too deferential to LeGrand. It was a game for her. Evan—he was not the smartest guy in the room, but he was definitely loyal to both Skye and LeGrand from the way he spoke and looked at them. He was too daft to be faking. Eric was a hired thug—did what he was told.
Finally, the others finished their meal and Eric and Evan cleared the dishes. When the table was clear and coffee poured—Sean decided to drink it for a jolt even though he didn’t like coffee—Kurt LeGrand began to talk.
“Tonight you will steal back everything you took from me, and more. And if you don’t think your family is worth saving, if you think your FBI friends will come and save you—” LeGrand smiled when he saw the rage cross Sean’s face. “Yes, I know you’ve been playing both sides. Haven’t figured out why yet, but I thought it was very interesting that the FBI canceled the APB on you after your friend was killed.”
The bastard. Sean’s hands fisted under the table. “You killed Hunter.”
“I didn’t pull the trigger.” LeGrand shrugged. His disinterest in Hunter’s murder further enraged Sean.
“Let me explain something to you, Sean,” LeGrand said. “Nine and a half years ago you took my fortune. I’ve been planning this ever since I found out you were responsible.” If Sean hadn’t been staring so intently at LeGrand, he would have missed the subtle glance toward Skye. What did that mean? That Skye had been the one who told LeGrand? If that was true, that meant that Skye, or LeGrand, had told Jonathan Paxton. Did that mean Paxton was behind Duke’s kidnapping and Hunter’s murder?
“It seems appropriate, doesn’t it?” LeGrand said. “You stole my fortune, so I’m using you to get it back.”
The test at the hotel finally made sense—they wanted to know if Sean could hack into RCK security even when he no longer worked there. So they thought either he was working undercover and had never quit RCK or he could still get around through a back door.
“You need to be put in your place,” LeGrand continued. “You’re an arrogant asshole who thinks he is better than everyone else; you think you can be the judge and jury. I’m here to not only knock you down a peg, but by the time you’re done, no one will believe anything you say about Martin Holdings, Hunter Nash’s murder, or your involvement in your own brother’s kidnapping.” LeGrand stood. “Skye and Evan will prepare you for your task. And one more thing—if you don’t do exactly what I say, if you don’t get me exactly what I want, not only will your friends and family die, but thousands of innocent people.” He grinned. “You didn’t think Evan took that bio-toxin for the fun of it, did you?”
He left the room.
* * *
Noah joined a half-dozen agents scouring property records looking for any connection to LeGrand or any of the others involved with him.
An analyst burst into the room and announced, “We have a hit on a possible truck matching the description of the one seen in the vicinity of the abandoned van in Baltimore. A state trooper spotted a black king cab with shell abandoned in Scarsdale, New York. There’s blood in the back and on the cab.”
Noah calculated the time it would take to get from D.C. to New York. It was nearly eight thirty in the morning; that gave them four and a half hours since the abduction.
“That could be them. Send a SWAT team to the location. Check surveillance cameras in the area. Have locals canvass the area for witnesses. I want to know what they were driving, which direction they were headed, how many, when they were last seen, stat.”
Jack jumped up and left the room. Noah followed and grabbed him by the shoulder. Jack turned and smacked Noah’s hand away. “The only reason you’re still walking is because Lucy likes you.” Jack’s eyes were bloodshot and he looked more dangerous with a day’s stubble darkening his jaw.
“You want to be involved, you do this my way. Because the only reason you’re not locked up right now is because I need you.”
Jack nodded once. He handed Noah a piece of paper. “White Plains. Farm outside the city limits owned by Granite Holdings. Granite, obsidian, they’re both rocks. There’s an airstrip near the property, and you said earlier that the people who abducted Sean had a twin prop.”
“I’m sold. Let’s go.” Jack turned to lead and Noah stepped in front of him. “This is still a federal operation, and I’m in charge. If you can’t take my orders, you’re staying.”
Jack wanted to argue with him—Noah saw it in his eyes—but Noah didn’t back down. Jack saw that, too.
“Yes, sir.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Skye led Sean down the hall of the sprawling ranch house. She opened doors to a large, masculine library with dark furniture and ostentatious paintings. A computer sat at the desk.
“Don’t think about it,” Evan said from behind them.
Skye laughed. “Doesn’t matter, there’s no network connection. No calling for help on this computer, sweetheart. But you need to be debriefed, at least as much as you need to know.”
“You killed Hunter.”
Anger flashed in her eyes and she slapped Sean. “You killed him. You had him sneaking around for you. If he hadn’t been snooping, he would still be alive.”
Sean had suspected, but now Skye confirmed that she was a two-time killer. Even if she hadn’t pulled the trigger on Hunter, she’d known about it. Ordered it.
Sean had no sympathy for Skye and what she’d gotten herself into. “Bitch.”
She tried to slap him again, but he caught her wrist. Immediately pain in his kidneys from Evan’s fist had Sean dropping Skye’s hand.
“This is your fault, Sean,” Skye said, her voice sounding hurt.
“All I did was help our friend Colton. My friend, since you killed him in cold blood.” Sean’s stomach churned and he didn’t know if it was from the beatings or grief.
“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t left Boston!”
Sean stared at her. “That was over nine years ago.”
“Exactly! You just left. You think I didn’t know why? You’re a fool if you think that only you and Colton knew about the money you stole.”
“I gave the money back to the people Robert Martin and your boyfriend took it from. They were retired, Skye. He stole money from old people.”
“I don’t care about what you did or didn’t do, you left.”
Even if he explained his reasons, Skye would never understand. Guilt and self-doubt and the need to reconnect with his brother. That Colton’s grandiose plans of changing the world through hacktivism no longer appealed to Sean. When it was a game, Sean enjoyed it. But not when it was life or death. Not when he realized the stakes were so high and he was going to lose his soul if he didn’t find something good to do with his life. He’d left MIT when he was twenty-one. He was thirty now, and only in the last year had he begun to see his potential. It wasn’t his brains and ability to crack virtually any security system. It wasn’t even to be what his brother wanted. It was to help people. To love Lucy. To realize that the smaller jobs were the most rewarding. Finding his cousin when she disappeared in New York was far more satisfying than hacking into companies to identify their weaknesses so his brother could create a more secure system.
Sean wanted both more … and less.
“You walked away,” Skye said. “From Colton. From me.”
It couldn’t be that simple.
“You’ve never been a scorned woman, Skye. We had fun, I liked you a lot—”
“You loved me, or was that a lie?”
He had told her once he loved her. And at the time maybe he’d believed it. They’d had a great time, but it was superficial. There was no depth.
“I was twenty-one.”
That sounded lame.
“That’s your excuse? You were too young? Do you love that little bitch Fed that you’re dating? Now that you’re oh-so-mature?”
He couldn’t let Skye bring Lucy into the conversation. He wasn’t going to cheapen his relationship with Lucy by discussing her with his ex-girlfriend.
“Aren’t you supposed to be telling me what to do so you don’t kill my brother?” Sean said, keeping his face blank.
“Don’t you even care how much you hurt all of us? Colton was lost without you. He was a far better brother to you than your mightier-than-thou guardian who tried to turn you into someone you’re not. Colton was never the same after you walked. You got him off his crazy-ass ideas like taking down power grids and hacking into the Pentagon and dumb shit like that—but without you, he just went more off the deep end. More paranoid, obsessed with his brother’s death. He was crazy. You didn’t see it because you weren’t there. I know, he seemed all perfect and fine at the carriage house, but have you been on the third floor? The rooms he won’t let anyone into? I don’t even think Carol knows the extent of his craziness.”
Skye stepped toward Sean, her eyes large and bright. She really believed what she was saying. “I watched you; I saw the excitement in your eyes. The thrill of the job. The adrenaline pumping through your veins until you wanted to do what you do so well. I saw the way you looked at me, what you wanted to do to me. You were meant to live on the edge. You were meant to take what you want because you can. We can have it all. Together.”
Sean laughed. “Obviously you and Kurt aren’t so close that you can hit on me. And what about pretty boy over there?” He jerked his thumb toward Evan.
“Evan’s not my boyfriend. That’s just how I got him into Colton’s group.” She winked at Evan, who stood stone-faced five feet away. “Evan has his benefits. And Kurt—well, I can handle him. But you and me, Sean—”
“Have been over for nine years.”
He couldn’t deny that many of the jobs they’d worked together were exhilarating, but it wasn’t the same as when they were younger. And not once since moving to New York did he want to touch Skye.
“We had it all,” Skye lamented. “You were the smart one. You let Colton lead you around with all his pet projects, his causes, which you couldn’t have cared less about, but you did it because you looked up to him. He gave you praise you lapped up like an abused puppy, unlike your brother who banished you across country after one little indiscretion.”
“This has nothing to do with Duke.”
“It has everything to do with Duke! You left us because you needed his approval. You ran back home and begged for his forgiveness. Guilt ate you up. Kurt’s partner was weak, he killed himself, and you feel bad about that? Like you said, he took money from old people. You tried to toe the line, but how many times did Duke look at you with disapproval and you felt like shit inside? Like nothing you did would please him. You couldn’t redeem yourself in his eyes, no matter what you did or said. But you kept trying. And trying. Yet, the one time a friend asks for help and you give it without checking with big br
other, he fires you.”
Skye was getting too close to Sean’s core feelings, and she knew it. He had to stop her from framing this discussion.
“You don’t know me. I came here for Colton, and you killed him.”
“Good riddance. He was a thorn. His causes made us no money. He lives on his trust from selling the one good thing he created, and expects us to be grateful for his handouts?”
“Colton cares about—”
“Don’t talk to me about caring! I cared about you, but you cared more about your brother who doesn’t even like or respect you. And where is he now? I heard what he said. He doesn’t believe you, baby. He knows inside you’re just like me.” She smiled.
“Kurt’s going to kill both me and Duke. You know it. And yet you stand here and try to tell me you care?” There was something else going on in that calculating mind of Skye’s.
She smirked. “I can stop him.”
Sean shook his head. “You have an inflated sense of power.”
“And you have none!” Skye pushed him. “Who do you think has been whispering in Kurt’s ear for the last five years? Who gave him his purpose after you took everything from him?” She grinned, her face flushed, and she looked crazy. Sean didn’t know Skye anymore. Or maybe he did, and that was even more terrifying. Because she would do whatever it took to get what she wanted. She always had.
“So why would I help you when he’s just going to kill me?”
“Kill you? He’s not going to kill you. He wants you to suffer. Death is too permanent. But I can fix it all because I control the money. Whose idea do you think it was to embezzle from his last employer? They were criminals, and I saw it a mile away. So right before the feds came down on them, I hid the money and Kurt turned whistle-blower. It was brilliant. I learned it from you. Deflection. So as soon as we get into the evidence locker, I’ll have the control. And it’s not like you have a choice. You’re wanted by the FBI.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Oh? Then maybe they haven’t found the dead federal agent in your apartment yet. Killed when you have no abili—because you were with Colton and now Colton is dead. No one to back you up. And then there’s that little thing about your gun … hmm, wonder where it is now, don’t you?” She smirked. “I think it’s off killing someone. And since no one knows where you are, it’s very easy to set you up for it.”
Stolen (Lucy Kincaid Novels) Page 27