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“I guess it was too much to hope that whoever hired him would get stupid, just once,” Bailey stated in disgust.
“The men here aren’t stupid, and neither are the women,” Travis mused. “They can get careless, though, as can their security personnel. I’ll see what I can find out from there in the next few days.” He looked at John. “The boss is getting concerned. It seems the CIA is making noise about investigating Warbucks again. They caught a hint of this sale. So far he’s managed to keep them off track, but that won’t last long.”
“It’s likely not working at all,” Bailey told them. “The men here aren’t the only smart ones. The agency wants Warbucks, and they want him alive.”
“Too bad,” John murmured as he turned back to Travis.
“Rodriquez didn’t survive interrogation,” Travis said, keeping his voice quiet. “His body will be left where local law enforcement can find it in a few days. He didn’t suffer greatly. He just didn’t survive.”
Bailey knew what Travis wasn’t saying. Rodriquez had been executed. When his body was found that would be apparent, and it would fit with his history. There would be no investigation outside the team Travis and John worked with.
“I’ve suggested Warbucks may have been behind it,” John warned Travis. “As I expressed to Raymond Greer, a goodwill gesture, if he wasn’t involved, may be appropriate.”
There was that look again. As though they were keeping something from her that they knew they shouldn’t be.
“What’s going on with Raymond?” She lowered her voice to a breath of sound as that mental note kicked in. “And don’t bother telling me nothing.”
Travis and John shared “the look” again. It was beginning to get on her nerves.
“If the two of you didn’t want to tell me, then you’d better watch your expressions,” she stated irritably. “Spit it out now and get it over with, if you don’t mind.”
Travis glanced at her with a brooding look as John breathed out heavily.
“Not yet.” His voice was a breath of sound. “We’re not safe enough. Not yet.”
She wanted to kick both of them. “Whatever.” She rose from her chair, finished with the conversation now. She had her own suspicions, suspicions she wanted to reject simply because she detested Raymond Greer so thoroughly. But she had to admit that she detested a lot of the men she’d worked with.
If Raymond had been setting himself up to move into Warbucks’s sphere, then his attitude would make perfect sense. It would also explain his sincere affection for his wife, which she would have never believed if she hadn’t seen for herself.
She grimaced at the thought. She didn’t want to suspect what she was starting to suspect. It meant she was going to have to change her perceptions, and she really didn’t like doing that.
Turning back to both of them, she considered them with a narrow frown before mouthing, “Raymond’s covert.”
John glanced at Travis, then to her, and nodded sharply.
Fuck. Dammit.
She stomped her foot against the rug before kicking out a pillow that had lain forgotten in the floor. With her good arm she swept the blankets off the bed, kicked them, and cursed silently again before turning on the two men again.
She didn’t want to believe it, she really didn’t. She detested Raymond. Arrogant. Superior. Conceited. The man was an asshole. He couldn’t be a good guy. She wouldn’t allow it. She didn’t want to accept it even as she knew she was going to be forced to.
She’d spent years investigating Raymond, so she knew his cover was damned deep. That took careful planning. It took an agent setting himself up, effectively going rogue, and aligning himself with a backup team no one would suspect.
John’s team.
She glared at him. Her teeth clenched until she was afraid she was going to crack her own molars.
“I hate him,” she mouthed.
John’s lips tightened as he fought back the grin that she knew wanted to shape his lips. Travis’s head ducked as he hid his amusement. He was a hell of a lot smarter than John.
And they were keeping her blind. They had held this information back, giving those damned silent signals and making her figure this out on her own. They could have just told her.
Raymond’s cover was sensitive, though, she knew that. If he was covert here, they couldn’t take the chance that even a breath of it reached Warbucks. They could cover their own conversations, they could hide their true purpose beneath a million excuses. But an explanation of Raymond’s position couldn’t have been covered or excused.
She pushed her hair back from her face, almost wincing at the pain that sliced through her upper arm.
She hated this, she really did. She had actually plotted and planned Greer’s death with great precision and pleasure. Backpedaling from that mind-set was not going to be fun.
