Page 65 of The Enforcer’s Pawn

Every man looks at her.

“What?” she says. “My brother put a doorbell on the family trauma box. Seems on brand.”

Yuri’s throat works. “It wasn’t the call.”

Maksim turns to him. “Explain.”

Yuri looks at his screen. “Patrick hid a beacon inside the O’Connell archive. When Cara opened it, the archive sent a signal out.”

My blood turns hot. Patrick has started setting bait.

Yuri turns his monitor toward us. “Evan received one call, no saved contact, no clean origin. After that, our call hit Kathryn’s phone, and Evan was close enough to hear it.”

He folds his glasses and sets them on the table. “Patrick knows we’re checking him, or someone made sure he knows.”

Cara stops arguing, and that worries me. She understands enough now, and she’s trying not to show how badly it scares her.

I take the chair beside her. I need answers, but I won’t get them by giving orders.

“Kathryn is in danger,” I say.

Her mouth opens, then closes.

“Tell me what you sent her.” I keep my voice low, and my hand rests on the table near hers, palm down, close enough for her to take if she wants. Her eyes flick to it, and I leave it there.

I lean closer. “If Evan repeats the wrong detail, Patrick may know Kathryn isn’t only holding information for you.”

I take the chance, and Cara reacts at once. Her face loses color.

I see it now. Someone else is involved.

My hand closes against the table. For one second, I nearly rise, then I make myself stay in the chair.

Elena steps forward. “Cara warned Kathryn. If Kathryn understands it, she’ll wait for the next call.”

Cara looks at her, and some of the panic leaves her face.

Maksim gives Abramov the order without raising his voice. “Prepare the office-line call. Keep Evan untouched until we know whether he is bait or breach.”

Abramov nods. “Understood.”

Ilya speaks from the monitor. “Boston routes?”

“Quietly,” Maksim says. “No men near Kathryn unless we confirm movement. Patrick acts fast when he feels watched. Don’t give him a reason.”

My focus stays on Cara. “You’ll sit with me while we plan the second call.”

Her gaze narrows. “I’m not your consultant.”

“No.” I turn Yuri’s recovered message pieces toward her—the coffee invite, the payment nickname, and the line about asking Kathryn without making it strange. My knuckles brush her fingers. She pulls her hand back fast, and I leave mine on the table.

“You’re the only person here who knows how Patrick talks,” I say. “His old lies. The way he makes panic sound reasonable.”

“That’s not hacking.” Her head tilts.

“It is when Patrick is the lock.”

Yuri clears his throat from the station. “Also, she opened the archive faster than I did.”