She quickly told the officer what had happened. Officer Gabriel instructed them to keep the body in the house, preferably somewhere cool and covered until the police arrived.
Just as she ended the call, footsteps approached from behind. She turned and saw Tevin walking toward her. He subtly nodded to the dining area beside them, indicating he wanted to talk privately.
She glanced around, noting everyone else was occupied. Then she slipped into the dining room with Tevin.
“What’s going on?” she whispered, curious about his secretive demeanor.
He glanced around, double-checking their privacy, before stepping closer. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but there’s something you need to know. Rex has been worried that there’s a mole at Aegis.”
“What?” She struggled to keep her voice low. Certainly she hadn’t heard Tevin correctly. A mole?
Tevin nodded. “He had me look into everyone’s background, trying to find any inconsistencies or red flags or unusual financial transactions.”
“And what did you figure out?” She held her breath as she waited for his answer. She almost didn’t want to know. She’d trusted all the people here with her life on more than one occasion. They were her family.
He shrugged. “Nothing. Not yet.”
Disappointment dropped like a rock in her stomach. “Was JJ a suspect?”
Tevin hesitated before saying, “Not necessarily, but hewasthe newest hire.”
“And if not JJ . . .” She couldn’t finish the thought.
“It could be someone else. Someone here. Maybe JJ discovered the mole and that’s why he was killed.”
“But the only other people here were you, Mitzi, and Nova. And those tracks I saw belonged to a man.”
Tevin shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on. But I just wanted to let you know—be careful who you trust.”
Could someone on her own team have done this?
Olive didn’t want to believe it—shecouldn’tbelieve it.
But she did need to be on guard . . . if she wanted to stay alive.
CHAPTER
FIVE
Before anyone could noticetheir whispered conversation, Olive and Tevin joined everyone back in the living room.
The murmur of voices carried from the kitchen, followed by the faint clatter of mugs. A moment later, Mara and Warren Shepherd stepped into the great room.
Mara was small and round-shouldered, her silver hair cropped neatly and her cheeks ruddy from the heat of the kitchen. She still wore a red apron dusted with flour, the wordsBaking Spirits Brightembroidered across the front.
Warren followed a step behind—short and lean, with his plaid flannel sleeves rolled up over wiry forearms. His beard was more salt than pepper, and the corners of his blue eyes crinkled as he glanced around.
“Everything all right?” Mara sounded bright but slightly breathless as her gaze moved from face to face. “I heard people talking like they could be upset . . .”
Her gaze wandered to the blanket-covered body on the floor, and her eyes widened.
Rex turned toward them, his expression carefully neutral. “You should both sit down.”
Mara’s smile faltered. “Oh, dear.”
Warren’s hand found hers, but they remained standing. “What happened?”
Rex hesitated, and Olive noticed it—a rare fracture in the man’s composure.
