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Rafe ignored the look she sent his way when she said as I’m sure you’re aware since she’d obviously seen the files relating to their previous operation in Austria. Having been deep undercover with ORUS at the time, his files at the FBI wouldn’t have revealed that he was the one responsible for the hit on Dieter Vandergraff, but he figured she could guess. She seemed like the type to read between the lines. Exactly what he didn’t need.
“So they’re here. In New York?”
“Yes, so we all need to be on alert. Likely they’re not here for vacation. They want something.” Alan finally pushed away from the wall and walked closer. Although he’d included them both when he spoke, Rafe was pretty certain the message was for him.
“You think they know we’re working on a case against them?”
Alan nodded. “No doubt they’re building up their contacts here in North America because they’re on the radar of law enforcement agencies in so many countries in Europe. With their contacts, they could easily take up new identities in the States and start an entirely new criminal enterprise here. They just need funds and to partner with the right organization. They appear to be having financial problems.”
That took Rafe by surprise. The Vandergraffs had always been a different level of wealthy. He whistled. He couldn’t imagine blowing through that kind of money in ten lifetimes. “What do you think prompted the sudden move? Surely they could have found ways to make money in Europe.”
Emilie smiled at him. “Perceptive. They’re after the Jewel of the Sea.”
Rafe frowned. “Am I supposed to know what that is?”
She slipped a photo over to him of a brilliant diamond. “This is the Jewel of the Sea. It’s worth over $25 million now. It’s a Vandergraff family heirloom from their mother. She was some kind of countess or something. She came from an old family name without much liquid wealth but with a title and lands and all that jazz. That diamond is passed on from mother to daughter. It vanished right around the time of Dieter Vandergraff’s death.”
And there it was—the tickle along the nape of his neck that told him all was not right with his fucked-up world. Rafe kept his voice even. “So, what do you want from me?”
“Everything you have on them. Comb your old files. If these two are here, it’s problematic for all of us.”
He gave her a sharp nod. “I’ll look through what I have and give ORUS a call. Most of the files you’re after would have been under the old leadership and not available to us. But I’ll ask.” For now he’d leave out that he had access to those files.
She gave him a smile that was all teeth. She didn’t trust him. Well, that goes both ways, sister.
“You do that. Before you go though, are you sure you were entirely forthcoming about that night you were there?”
So it was like that? Good thing he’d been trained to do nothing but lie. After all, survival depended on it. “Absolutely. You know what I know.”
She nodded. “Okay then, I’d love to take a look at whatever files you can dig up. You know, fresh eyes and all that.”
The hell he’d give her ORUS files without redacting them first. Interpol had been less than successful trying to get in with ORUS. Since the new leader was currently an ally of sorts, he sure as shit wasn’t giving Emilie Durand her in. “Of course. If we’re done, I’m out.”
She slid her glance over him again. “I understand that you’re pseudo retired. Care to share what you’re up to these days?”
He grinned. “Nope.” Turning his attention back to Alan, he nodded. “I’ll get you what you need.”
Rafe took the same underground pass he usually took, then went through a series of checkpoints that led to the exit. From there, he deliberately took over an hour to get home. Just to make sure he wasn’t tailed. Before he’d ‘come back from the dead,’ he’d been stationed in Philly. But after his miraculous resurrection, he’d moved back to New York to be closer to Lulu.
And somehow he’d ended up with more family than he’d had in six long years. Granted, they might not all think of him as family. You try to kill some guys one time… and they held it against you.
He knew the drill. To most of the world, Rafe DeMarco was dead. If he didn’t want to resurrect that ghost just yet, he still had to be careful. If the Vandergraffs were kicking up a fuss again, his old life might be coming back to haunt him.
On McMillan, the winding two-lane road he often used as an alternate route home, he saw taillights glowing in a ravine and frowned. What the hell?
He liked this route. It was an old access road that let him bypass the freeway. Technically it was only meant for government and Parks and Recreation access, but Noah had ways of bypassing pesky access rules.
The weather hadn’t given way to spring yet, and as there weren’t very many streetlights, the road was often dark and desolate. And with the added benefit of the rain that had started an hour ago, it was eerie.
He reached the embankment where the light shone brightest and stopped his car. Fuck balls, someone had gone over. “Hello? Is anyone down there?”
There was a faint rustling, and Rafe strained to hear better. Then he heard what he was looking for.
“Help.”
Shit. “Are you hurt?” He couldn’t see a fucking thing thanks to the rain. He could see the steam rising up from somewhere down off the embankment, but very little else. All he heard was that voice.
“I’m hurt, but I can walk. I climbed out of the car.”
