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He just stares like I insulted him.
When he doesn’t answer, I ask again. “What are the chances you missed her?”
“Close to zero,” he says with poison in his voice.
Arrogant bastard. All right. “Let me have access to your files, Archer.”
This might be the first time I call him by his name. It’s strange. It also sounds intimate, though there is nothing special in calling someone by their name. I kill any type of playfulness in my voice. It’s now or never.
“Let me look at everyone’s files, I say. “Those who came during Spring Break two years ago. The ones who were selected to come later. And your security. Let me get to know people. My father has a lot of connections to do a thorough background check.”
He snorts in amusement. “You kidding, right?”
“If Tsariuk hired one person to try to infiltrate your circles—me, that is—I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to infiltrate your security before.”
“I know that. Highly doubtful.”
“He might’ve done it right after the Change when the island wasn’t yet armed to a tee.”
Archer’s gaze hardens.
“How thoroughly did you go through your employees’ files?” I insist.
“Marlow deals with that.”
“Just background checks? Any ties to Russia?”
I know I am being too pushy. But Archer needs to know I am not just some wild girl who came here to play. Uncle and Dad did a lot of prep research. It’s not easy from the mainland. But they are pros, with experience in special ops and undercover.
I can help. I know I can. I will do my best to prove to my dad—andArcher Crone—that I can deliver.
Archer is quiet longer than expected—he knows his security has holes. The entire island is talking about it. A breach in surveillance a month ago is the proof. He is a brilliant man who is slipping slowly but steadily—the rumors are right—with all the booze and drugs and possibly something else that’s going on in his life that I don’t know about but will find out.
“Let me have access to your files,” I repeat and don’t care if it sounds like I’m begging. “If I find anything suspicious, I can contact my dad. He has connections in places you don’t. He knows people in the CIA. More importantly, he keeps in touch with Tsariuk.”
“Zion is secure and intruder-free.”
“Apparently not, considering people are being smuggled in and out of this place.”
I’m bluffing. But his eyes narrow just slightly—a second long enough for me to know that he is surprised.
He knows my background inside out but can’t detect my bluff.
“My best team was on it,” he says. “Marlowwas on it.Iwas on it when Tsariuk contacted my dad a year ago. And I won’t give some wanna-be-spy the personal info of the richest families in the world.”
I exhale loudly and look away, shaking my head. “You always like this?” I meet his gaze again.
“Like what?” He blinks in annoyance.
Gorgeous and arrogant. “Think that you’ve got it. Everything and everyone.” I tilt my head, studying him as calmly as possible. I need a way in. “There’s always a margin of error. Things slip through the cracks. I have a fresh set of eyes, Archer. I don’t know any of the girls from Deene. I have a different perspective. I know Milena Tsariuk’s biography inside out. But I can start with your security personnel files and find out if there are any moles. Let me do this. I’ll work with Marlow if you want. Give me a month.” Shit, I might’ve cut myself short here. “Two. Three.” His brow ticks. “If I don’t find anything, I’ll leave this island with all your”—I roll my eyes on purpose—“non-disclosure agreements and go back to the mainland. You have nothing to lose.” Except me—wishful thinking.
“And if you find something?” His eyes narrow. He is interested. Good.
“Then you decide how to handle it with Tsariuk. It’s in your best interest to give him absolute proof his daughter is not here. Or is.”
His jaw moves. He is calculating. I got him thinking, and pride swells in me, though I’m holding my breath, waiting for his answer.
I have connections on the mainland who aretalkingto Tsariuk—that’sthe upper hand.
