“Yes. I’m assuming you were the one who informed local police of the similarity between his murder and Ms. Novak’s?”
Peter nodded, his face a shade paler than it had been a moment ago. “My agency was providing him protection. I’m the one who discovered his body.”
The agent grimaced. “That was a horrible scene from what I’ve heard.”
“It was.” Peter seemed to shake himself. “So you’re saying this Mr. Luque may be behind these murders?”
“These and a few others that we know of. But right now, the evidence is purely circumstantial, nothing that would hold up in court. So far, we haven’t been able to prove he’s ever evenmet Ms. Novak, but there are definitely connections. Her fiancé, whom nobody has heard from in several days, is a high-level staff member in Eukaria’s internal finances division. And then there’s the mutual link to Pendleton Accounting, of course.”
He paused, giving them a chance to digest the new information. From somewhere in the room, a clock ticked. The marking of each second felt like an ominous countdown to when she’d have to make the decision that would seal her fate.
“I really don’t have a lot of choice, do I?” she finally muttered.
“You could still choose to disappear,” Peter said. “No one would blame you.”
Agent Sanchez sat back. “He’s right. You could try to disappear. And maybe you’d be successful. But there’s no guarantee of that. You’d be on your own, and without your help, it could take us a long time to dig up enough evidence to put this guy away. With his resources, there’s a really good chance he’d find you in the meantime. At least by cooperating with us, you’ll have law enforcement close by and ready to act.”
She let his words settle over her. She didn’t like it—not at all—but deep down, she knew he was right. That was the primary reason she hadn’t already fled. That and the fact she’d be leaving far too many loved ones in danger.
“And if Mr. Luque realizes what I’m doing?” she asked wearily.
“You’ll have a code word to signal us if you sense things are going awry—we won’t be far away—but it shouldn’t come to that. All we need you to do is get him to clearly acknowledge he is aware of the money laundering.” The agent held her gaze. “With video and audio evidence that he’s involved, we can take him down, and this will all be over.”
36
Hailey’s nerves were a mess.Everything depended on this meeting. If something went wrong, she was as good as dead. Her family too.
Upset.She silently reminded herself of the code word they’d agreed on.“You say thatword,we’ll move in immediately,no questions asked,”Special Agent Sanchez had assured her. But she wasn’t naïve. She knew what she was doing was risky.
The feds had promised to be close—some in a vehicle parked at a nearby grocery store, a few hidden in the wooded area by the side parking lot. Miguel and Boris were out there too. Peter was the closest to her, having somehow managed to pick up a shift in the security office.
But none of them were near enough to protect her from a bullet. If things went south, she could very possibly be dead before anyone could reach her. Her only consolation was that her parents and Jenna were safe for now. If Hailey died before this meeting ended, the FBI should be able to swoop in and catch these guys. And hopefully, Alessandro Luque wouldn’t go after her family after her death.
But she also knew that even if she did everything right, there was no guarantee Eukaria’s CFO wouldn’t slip through the FBI’snet. And even if they arrested him, how far did his influence reach? Would he be able to order a hit from his jail cell? Come after her himself if he made bail?
She couldn’t think about all the things that could go wrong. If she did, she might back out—and that she simply could not do. They had to bring this man down, or her family would never be truly safe.
Her phone buzzed. She had a message from Peter. An orange heart emoji. The message brought anything but warm feelings. It was their agreed-upon signal that he’d seen the CFO’s car arrive. As she sent up one last prayer, she heard the hum of the rising elevator. Legs shaking, she moved to stand in front of the elevator doors. It was showtime.
She schooled her features. She wasn’t worried about showing her discomfort, only about tamping down her disgust for this man. Alessandro Luque would expect her to be nervous, which was good. She didn’t think she could completely hide her apprehension if her life depended on it. In fact, if she appeared confident at this meeting, he’d know something was off. No, she just needed to make sure he believed her nerves were a sign that he thoroughly intimidated her and that she would do whatever he demanded. The first part of that was close enough to the truth that she shouldn’t have any trouble.
The doors whooshed open. As at both their previous meetings, Mr. Luque was flanked by two expressionless guards. He stepped out first, a smirk on his handsome face.
“Mrs. Nieland, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.” The man’s greeting was almost cordial. But why wouldn’t he be amicable? He thought he held all the cards. The three-day period to think about her choice had been a formality on his part, merely offering her the illusion of choice wrapped in a chance to recognize she really had none. His return wasn’t to negotiate, it was to accept his victory.
“Good morning.” She forced herself to accept his handshake.The feel of his skin against hers sent a tingle skittering up her arm like a clutch of newly hatched spiders. She barely suppressed a shudder. “Shall we continue to the conference room?”
“Yes.”
Turning before she gave herself away, she led the way through the empty office and into the conference room. “Sit wherever you like. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, water, soda?”
“No, thank you.”
She pulled a bottled water from the room’s mini fridge for herself—more to buy another moment to compose herself than because she was actually thirsty. As she circled the table to take her seat, she tried not to think about the danger she was in. Or the listening device and miniature camera she wore.
The FBI had considered bugging the conference room, but they’d ultimately decided it was too risky to send an agent inside to plant it. If Mr. Luque had people watching, it would raise his suspicions. Besides, they didn’t want to miss anything he said on the way to or from the room. Instead, the agents had presented her with a special necklace that concealed the devices. It was professional but not flashy—intended to blend in with her outfit.
No sooner had she settled into the comfortable executive-style chair than Mr. Luque fixed his gaze on her. “Well, what have you decided?”
