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“But jokes aside, should I tell Arabella about the grandfather thing?”
My older sister sighed. “Why?”
“I feel like she should know.”
“What’s worse, losing a family friend or losing a grandfather you never knew and living with a lifetime of regret and unanswered questions?”
I thought about it.
“You’re right,” I said. “It just feels like lying.”
“Arabella is still trying to deal with Mom getting hurt and the nightbloom. It’s a lot.”
“How do you know about the nightbloom?”
Nevada leaned closer, her eyes intense and wide, and whispered, “I know everything.”
The screen went black.
I jumped out of my chair and headed straight out the office door and toward the main house. I needed to cook something in the worst way.
I popped the tray of chicken thighs into the oven. I had marinated them in a mixture of soy sauce, the juice of two limes, my homemade sweet chili sauce, and some spices for an hour. Most people thought that a proper marinade only happened overnight. In reality, for most meats, an hour was plenty.
Around me the kitchen of the main house was quiet. Kitchens were my sanctuary. And I really needed a sanctuary right now.
I washed the heirloom tomatoes, put a cutting board on the island, and took out my favorite cleaver.
My phone rang. Agent Wahl. Finally.
I took the call.
“The Bureau took this case as a favor,” Agent Wahl said.
Straight to the point.
“So far, I’ve had to process a dummy crime scene and then give a dummy press conference about it. In the past forty-eight hours, I’ve been glamoured, blown up, poisoned with toxic air, and cussed at by my partner.”
“You also stopped breathing for a bit.”
“Tell me something good, Prime Baylor, because my patience is wearing thin.”
“Would you like to get even?” I pulled up the draft of the email I had written this morning and sent it.
“I don’t get even, Prime Baylor. This is not a schoolyard fight. I’m an agent of the law. I detect illicit activity and stop it.”
“Have you checked your inbox?”
There was a long pause. I put the phone on speaker and started chopping my tomatoes.
“Is this legitimate?”
“Yes.” I had just handed him half a billion dollars’ worth of illicit activity. Arkan’s US accounts complete with evidence of money laundering, tax evasion, and payments to and from people on international watchlists. Konstantin delivered and then some.
“Do I want to know how you got hold of it?”
“Let’s say it was an anonymous tip. If you scroll down, there are notes at the end of the file. Point three is of particular interest.”
If you followed the trail of financial bread crumbs outlined in point three, you would find a record of payments from Arkan to Luciana Cabera.
There was another pause.
“Explain this to me.”
“How secure is this line?”
“As secure as it can get.”
That was debatable but I had to cooperate with him to get what I needed. “Five years ago, a group of Primes financed Arkan’s theft of an Osiris serum sample.”
“Go on.”
The tone of his voice told me that he understood the gravity of the situation. Anything regarding this theft had to be handled with kid gloves. The National Assembly and the US government had never acknowledged that the theft had taken place because the international ramifications would be disastrous. This was a massive show of trust on my part, and he understood and appreciated it.
“Luciana Cabera was part of that group.”
“Okay, I see where she sent him several payments years ago.”
She had done it very carefully, but Arabella and Bern were very good at untangling complex financial threads.
“I also see the trail of payments to her from the same account. What are those?”
“Dividends.”
Arkan had shared profits from his sale of the modified serum. He had five investors total. Connor and Nevada unknowingly took out two when they destroyed the conspiracy several years ago. Linus, Alessandro, and I removed two others. Cabera had been the only remaining investor.
“Can you freeze these accounts?” I asked.
“Yes. Yes, I can. It will take time and the right people.”
“How much time?”
“To do it carefully? Two days, maybe three. If you want it done ASAP, twenty-four hours.”
“I would take option #2 if possible. Will you tell me when it’s done?”
“Of course, Catalina.”
Catalina, even. First-name basis.
“You’ll need to prepare,” he warned me. “Arkan’s reaction will be significant.”
“That’s the plan. Also, MII is working on pulling the rest of Arkan’s moles off the street. They are planning a coordinated strike. Would you like to assist?”
“Let me make something clear: the FBI will not be assisting MII. Montgomery International Investigations will be assisting the FBI with this matter. We will take the lead on this. I’ll keep you in the loop.”
There was a tiny pause.
“Also,” Wahl said. “In the interests of trust and continued cooperation, there has been an event in Alaska.”
What did that mean?
“Take care.”
He hung up. Okay then.
