Chapter 24
G abriel stared at her. His expression remained neutral, but not in a truly neutral sense. Even as kids, when he needed to process something, his expression would go eerily blank.
She didn’t rush him, but as the silence stretched, two thoughts settled in her mind. First, she’d made the assumption that he’d be as excited as she was about the opportunity to get close to one of the key suspects. Second, he wasn’t.
“Gabriel?”
His lips tightened, and he glanced out the window. A beat later, he took a deep breath and turned back to her. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
She cocked her head, trying to get a read on him. He’d summarized her findings already. Why did he want to go over them in detail rather than help her plan her approach with Joseph?
She searched his expression, looking for any clues. He held so still that she almost missed it. The thrumming of his pulse, beating against the skin on his neck. Not so rapid as to worry her, but faster than what his resting pulse should be.
Her plan to put herself in proximity to Joseph Nolan bothered him.
Instincts kicked in, and her body tightened as she braced herself to defend her decision. Instead of the outburst she anticipated, he lifted his hand and set it on hers. The rough warmth of his fingers curling around hers startled her, and she looked down at where they touched.
Staring at his strong, steady hand holding hers, a funny thing happened.
Something quieted in her body, and the tension she’d felt seconds ago seeped away.
She didn’t have to explain herself; he wouldn’t ask or require that of her.
But as the anxiety faded, awareness filled the space.
There’d been moments in the past few days when attraction drifted between them like mist—undeniably there but without much substance.
With his touch, though, the first since they’d talked about that night, what had been insubstantial and hesitant crystallized into something much more.
“Please, Calypso,” he said. “Start at the beginning.” He gave her hand a gentle, almost beseeching squeeze. She looked up.
Like a fluorescent light flickering on in a dark morning, understanding hit her. He needed time. Time to process that she’d signed up to “befriend” someone who might be involved in funding terrorists. Who might be partly responsible for her friend’s murder.
Because he cared. About her. Maybe more than he wanted, but as she searched his eyes, he didn’t look particularly annoyed or as if he regretted it or wanted to fight it.
He didn’t even look resigned, her least favorite expression.
She’d seen it enough on her parents’ faces every time she fell short of their expectations.
A combination of disappointment and reluctant acceptance.
No, Gabriel held her gaze, simply asking for time.
She nodded. “Of course.” She turned her hand over and, palm to palm, she returned his reassuring squeeze with one of her own before extracting her hand and bringing her computer to life.
“Of the 3,878 transactions, just under a third of them conflict with either charges on Rian’s credit card elsewhere or events we verified he attended through social media—charity lunches, that sort of thing.
Nothing too high-profile—that doesn’t seem to be his style—but a big deal for the hosting organization, so they posted most of the pictures. ”
“What about Joseph and Aiden?”
“There are a third that couldn’t have been Joseph, and the rest could have been either of them as both were in the building at the time.”
“This doesn’t really change what you’re thinking, though, does it?”
She didn’t hear any challenge or judgment in his voice.
She shook her head. “It could have just been Aiden. But at this point, it could also be a combination of any of them. Until I have solid evidence that Rian isn’t involved, there are several scenarios that we—I—need to keep an open mind to.”
He inclined his head. “Any chance you’re looking at someone outside the family?”
A twitch of panic lanced through her. She didn’t have a ready answer for that question.
Gabriel reached over and touched her hand again, a fleeting brush of his fingers over hers.
Enough to remind her where she was. And where she wasn’t.
She wasn’t in front of her parents, who expected perfection and answers to everything—the right answers.
Or the FBI, who’d write her off if she didn’t have solid evidence.
This was Gabriel and HICC. A different world.
“I thought about it,” she said. Gabriel nodded in encouragement. “But two things, well, three, if you count my instincts?—”
“Which I do,” he said.
She smiled. “Held me back,” she continued.
“First, Liza’s notes on the Nolans never mentioned anyone other than them.
She talked about their business enterprise, so it’s possible she meant for me to interpret that as including the entire company.
But she mentioned the Nolans by name. Well, by emoji. No one else.”
“You knew her best. Would she have named someone else if she suspected them?”
She bobbed her head. “If she knew enough to suspect them, she would have included that information. That doesn’t mean she saw the whole picture, though.”
“So there’s a possibility of someone else being involved. Someone she might not have discovered before she died?” She nodded. “Okay, what’s the second thing?”
“What Rian told you about Laura overhearing Aiden talking about the bombing,” she replied.
“He could have said a lot of things to convince you to help her disappear, but incriminating his father seems like a detail he wouldn’t make up.
If he lied to you, it would be more likely for him to claim it was the CFO or some other unrelated member of senior management.
Or another situation altogether, one not so close to the truth. ”
“Why implicate his father if there wasn’t some truth to it?”
Again, she nodded. “Not concrete, and in some ways, conflicts with how I’m otherwise approaching the puzzle—why would I accept Rian implicating his father when I won’t yet accept the rest of what you told me about him? But…”
“That’s where your gut comes in?”
“For what it’s worth, yes. I don’t think he was lying about his father.”
“And what about tracing the money? The bombing was four years ago. You went through fifteen years of data. Did you figure out where the rest of the money went?”
“Leo is working on that. I’m good with spreadsheets and finding anomalies and figuring out patterns in how illicit funds are moving around, but he’s much better at the account-level cyber tracking aspect. I can do it, but he’s better. A lot better.”
Slowly, he bobbed his head. “Okay, so in summary, Nolan Enterprises has been fraudulently siphoning money away from the company to fund one, possibly more, terrorist groups. Or to pay bribes or kickbacks. Either way, it’s done for the purpose of winning government contracts.
And while I think Aiden is the sole person behind it, you need to look at the entire family, including Rian and Joseph. ”
“I know you wish it were otherwise, but yes, I do.”
He waved off her concern. “I get it. It’s not worth getting hung up about because I know, in the end, Rian will be cleared.
Likely, Joseph, too. And whatever evidence you and HICC find will only strengthen your case against Aiden.
” He paused, then met her gaze. Something in his expression had her heart hitching.
“Now we need to talk about this extreme sports getaway you’re planning on taking. ”
“I’m going, Gabriel. It’s a unique opportunity to get close to someone in the family.
Rian barely spoke to me when I confronted him in DC.
Now that he knows—and likely his family, too—that I’m looking into the bombing, he’s unlikely to extend the same courtesy next time.
I can work with HICC to get a warrant to allow law enforcement to kick off an open—rather than secret—investigation, but we have proof that the Nolans have been doing this for fifteen years.
They’ll be experts at burying evidence. We can’t go at them with a truncheon. We need to be more subtle than that.”
“I know,” he said when she finished. “And I agree.” She drew back at his capitulation. “But you’re not going alone, Callie. I’m going with you.”