Chapter 33
33
“ I t is,” Leo agreed.
Lina turned and looked at him. “So, the theory is that something happened in the lab where our six deceased people worked that, what? Predisposed them to DIC? Then my dad finds out about it, and when Navios discovers his interest, they kill him so it doesn’t interfere with the sale of the company?”
“It’s a solid theory,” Leo said. “People have been killed for a lot less.”
“Pharma companies have also paid out to victims. Wouldn’t that be easier than killing someone? Acknowledge they fucked up with whatever project they shut down, pay out the impacted families, promise to do better, and move on?” she said.
“Easier, yes. More ethical, certainly. But it would sink the sale. No company would want to buy Navios after that kind of reputational and financial hit. Not for a while, anyway,” Jackson answered. Leo nodded.
She supposed they had a point. Sometimes, people really sucked.
“Okay, assuming that’s the case, that my dad found the link between Navios and the deceased, how did Navios find out about him?”
Leo rolled his lips. “Turns out, your dad told them.”
She blinked. In an odd way, that didn’t surprise her. It wouldn’t occur to her dad not to talk about it. It was a fact that the six people worked at Navios in the same lab. It was a fact that all six suffered from the same disorder. It was a fact that that was statistically unlikely without a trigger. And facts were facts, not opinions. In his mind, connecting Navios to the deaths he discovered would be the equivalent of talking about the weather.
“Of course he did,” she said on an exhale.
“He traveled to Navios headquarters in Raleigh nine months ago and met with Christopher Caine,” Leo said.
A jolt of pain lanced through her. She should have protected her dad better. If she’d bothered building any kind of relationship with him, if she’d taken the time to talk with him, maybe he would have told her what he’d found. And what he intended to do. She could have—should have—stopped him.
Jackson’s arm came up and rested on the back of her chair, his fingers brushing her neck in a subtle show of understanding. Drawing strength from him, she took a deep breath.
“Any chance we know what they talked about?” she asked.
Leo shook his head. “Christopher didn’t take any electronic notes I could, uh, come across on his computer.”
“What I don’t understand,” Philly started, “is how your dad felt comfortable enough to waltz into Navios but then went to such extremes to hide the information so that only you could find it. What happened in the three months between the Navios meeting and when he left the envelope with Clint Hughes that made him nervous?”
“There was an attempted cyberattack on his lab, but the university stopped it,” Leo replied. “He also had his car broken into and, possibly, his office.”
Lina frowned. “Why didn’t he say anything to me?”
Leo shrugged but looked sympathetic. “He might not have known about the cyber incident. But even if he knew about it, he might not have thought it was directed at him since they went after the entire facility. The car break-in could easily be dismissed as well.”
“But his office?” she pressed.
A look of annoyance flashed across Leo’s face. “Your father reported it, but the university security team didn’t take him seriously. Nothing looked out of place—to anyone but your dad—nothing was taken, and there were no indications that anyone had broken in.”
“My father would have noticed a paper out of place in his office,” she said. Leo nodded. “And he never would have left his door unlocked. If he thinks someone broke in, someone broke in.”
“I agree,” Leo said. “But it wasn’t investigated at the time. I did manage to pull video of the hours between the time your dad left the night before and when he returned the next morning. I haven’t had a chance to go through it yet, though.”
A niggling thought flitted through her mind. “Any chance you have an update on the police investigation?”
Leo exhaled. “Right now, they are chalking it up to a burglary gone wrong,” he said. “They have no suspects, no weapon, and no apparent motive.”
“Burglary isn’t much of a motive, either, since they only took his computer,” Jackson muttered.
Leo inclined his head. “They have video from neighbors who have cameras on their porches. I, uh, have access to that, too. I did watch it but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.”
She hesitated. Vince had mentioned the video, too. It was the reason the detective hadn’t considered her a suspect. “Can I watch it?”
Leo cocked his head.
“What are you thinking?” Jackson asked.
She frowned and shrugged. “Maybe nothing. But sometimes, what looks ordinary isn’t. I grew up in that neighborhood. I haven’t lived there in a while, but I might have a better sense for what’s ordinary and what’s not.”
“That’s fair,” Leo said. “I’ll send you a link to the files. Be aware, though, there aren’t any cameras that capture your house. The closest one is two houses down on the same side.”
“Understood,” she said. “There’s not much else I—we—can do right now, though, so I may as well.”
Leo nodded and typed something on his keyboard. “You should have it in your email.”
Lina chuckled. “I’m not going to ask how you found my email address.” He grinned.
“I don’t think we should reach out to the families of the deceased anymore,” Scipio said. “The less they know about our suspicions, the better.”
“But if it turns out we’re right, they have a right to know,” Jackson said. Everyone at the table nodded in agreement.
A knock sounded at the door, drawing all their attention. Jackson called out for whoever it was to enter.
The door swung open, and a gorgeous Black woman stood in the entrance. As her dark eyes scanned the room, Lina took in her high cheekbones, full lips, graceful features, and skin smooth and even. Her low ponytail held her sleek black hair away from her face, and her simple but elegant gold studs matched the delicate chain she wore around her neck.
“Gabriel,” she said, her gaze landing on Philly. Lina frowned. She had no idea who the woman was, but clearly, everyone else did. And while the relationship didn’t appear to be entirely hostile, she hadn’t exactly received a warm welcome.
“Agent Callie Parks,” Philly said.
Lina studied the woman more closely now. Dark suit, tailored to fit but generic. Stylish though sensible shoes. The outline of a shoulder holster on her left side.
“Who called the FBI?” she asked.
“No one,” everyone but the woman said at once.
The chorus had Agent Parks looking around the room again. Her gaze lingered on Leo before darting to his open computer.
She slid her hands into her pockets and sighed. “Do I need to know what you all are up to?”