Page 132
I look at him. “Who is he?”
“I saw him with Lawrence Vail.”
“When?”
“At Blackwater.”
My pulse jumps.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The agent turns away from the camera.
Thomas grips his cane.
“His name was Peter Holt. He worked on Vail’s salvage crew.”
Marquez and Keating can’t hear us from the other room.
I reach for the microphone beneath the monitor.
Ben catches my wrist.
“Wait.”
“We need to warn them.”
“We will.”
He points at Holt’s right hand.
The agent is holding a phone.
His thumb moves across the screen.
Price turns toward him.
Holt slips the phone into his jacket.
A second later, another agent checks her phone.
She looks sharply at Holt.
“What did he send?” Ivy asks.
We can’t hear the hallway from this room.
Price walks toward Holt and holds out his hand.
Holt shakes his head.
Price reaches for the phone.
Holt takes a step back.
The other federal agents spread out, but no one draws a weapon.