Chapter 33
Jake
Daisy takes the phone from Brie to read the message, and I look to my team, knowing we haven’t fleshed out this part of the plan.
“She shouldn’t call, right? Best to let him get on that plane, then email her resignation on Monday.
No one will question her quitting after what happened today.
There’s no evidence to connect her to the altered presentation.
I’ll resign on Monday too, or maybe I’ll stick around through the end of the week to observe? Then we jump?”
“Makes sense,” Noah says. “Then we’re done here.”
Brie’s the one who crosses her arms and frowns. “She could potentially learn a lot if she returns to the office on Monday. What she observes could be useful for investigators. We’ve come this far. Why wouldn’t she take it through to the end?”
Because someone in that company might be the murderer—’cause we all know damn well Phillip Sterling didn’t risk his manicure. And a guy named Bennett sure as hell didn’t either.
“Phillip wants me to bring him some things he needs from the office. I just texted you the address of where I’m meeting him, but you have it already, right?”
Her question is ludicrous, but her voice is distant—and that’s when I realize she’s already halfway up the stairs, phone still in hand.
I glance at the address that came through. “He wants you to meet at the hangar? Absolutely not. His plan could be to force you onto the plane with him.”
Daisy’s not listening as she’s in the bedroom, probably changing. I look to Noah and Brie. “Hell no. She’s not walking into a trap.”
Noah leans against the kitchen island, thoughtful. His silence doesn’t help one damn bit.
Brie taps her index finger against the corner of her lip, considering, and therefore it bears repeating. “No. She’s not doing it.”
“Think about it. He doesn’t know she’s working with anyone else. Worst case scenario, he’s determined she’s the logical culprit. She uploaded the presentation. She’s the newest employee, and she has a personal vendetta.”
She’s making my case for me so I let her keep on talking.
“We know from what we overheard that they’re focused on identifying the culprit. Worst case scenario is that they’ve determined it’s her. They aren’t going to kill her on the spot.”
“And how did you come to that conclusion? Seems to me that’s exactly what they’d do.
That hangar’s in a remote location. Not much around it other than a data center.
They could shoot her without even bothering with a silencer, load her body up in the plane and dispose of it by flying over international waters and dropping her over the ocean.
Fly back to the private landing in New York, then hop on an international flight.
” Saying it out loud, that strikes me as a damn reasonable plan. “Hell, no.”
“I’m going.” Daisy appears at the top of the stairs.
She’s changed into loose jeans and those black military boots—the ones she can’t run for shit in.
White tank top under a navy hoodie, her dark hair pulled into twin ponytails that make her look younger, more vulnerable.
Like she’s trying to remind Sterling she’s just a programmer, not a threat.
Smart, maybe, but it makes my chest tight.
“What’s the goal with the getup?”
“What do you mean?”
“You changed out of your suit. Into an impractical outfit.”
“Impractical how?”
“White? Visible. Those boots? Ever tried running in them?”
“I didn’t dress for a shootout. He’d expect that I’d change clothes, and he knows me well enough to know what I’d likely wear on a Saturday.”
Her boots clunk down the stairs rapid-fire like, and while I know damn well she’s not going to go through with this, my blood pressure ratchets up so high I half expect steam to shoot from my nostrils.
“Stop looking at me like that, Jake. I’m going. I don’t think Sterling is the killer. Yes, it’s good the scams he’s running are ending, but someone out there killed someone I cared about. I’ve come this far; I’m seeing this through.”
“How is being his errand boy going to help you?”
“Because I’ll see who’s flying with him. We suspect that the plan is to send Sterling to Cambodia. If they want to ensure this happens without Sterling fleeing, someone’s going to be with him to make sure he gets on that plane. And he also wants to talk. Who knows what he might say.”
“It’s possible tides won’t turn against him until he arrives in New York. If they follow the plan we heard, he’ll board completely unaware of the destination, at least, if the flight crew’s in on it.” Brie says, all rational and calm.
“Aren’t you curious about what he’s going to say?” Daisy’s looking at me like I’m the one with my head screwed on backward.
“No.” I shake my head several times to drive the point home. “Not curious at all.”
“Well, I’m curious, and I’m going,” Daisy insists.
I look to Brie and Noah for help. Brie just made my case for me. If the plan’s to put a bullet through her skull and dump her body, us camping out listening through a wire won’t do squat.
Brie looks to Noah. “You think we can beat him to New York? If we leave now? If we can figure out what plane they’re transferring him to, we can have a better idea of what the plan is. Collect evidence. Observe who boards with him.”
“It’s time to call the FBI.” Why the hell am I the only rational person in this room?
Brie’s thoughtful, and when she goes to speak, I know I’m not going to like what she says. “Hudson can call his contacts, but I doubt the FBI will engage this fast. It’s a new case. Let’s go see what he’s up to. If the FBI joins in, great.”
“I can fly us,” Noah says. “Let’s call Quinn on the way. She’ll hook us up with a plane.”
“What about Daisy?” This is insane. My eyes are about to pop out of my skull, and no one seems to hear me. What am I—ghosting through the room now?
“Daisy’s right,” Noah says. “The other murders were clean—designed to evade suspicion. She’ll drive herself to the hangar.
If they did anything, even attempt to abduct her, all roads lead to them.
It’s not the play they’ll choose. He’s probably going to threaten her.
Or hell, if he really doesn’t suspect her, attempt to keep her working on her project that he seems to think is going to make him millions.
This is good. She’ll go, make the delivery, and see what he plans.
We’ll get him on the backend. And, if anything, maybe we’ll prevent him from leaving the country—after we figure out this Bennett guy’s plan. If the FBI gets on board.”
“Should I wear a wire? So I have whatever he says on tape?”
My eyes almost roll into the back of my head at Daisy’s question.
Brie jumps into action, saying, “I’ve got comms in the car. Come with us and I’ll get them for you.”
This isn’t a training exercise—it’s a goddamn kill zone. The hangar’s isolated location, single access road, limited cover—every tactical disadvantage stacked.
“No. This is a bad idea.” That’s what I say, but it seems I’m not the only one in the room who’s hard of hearing.