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“If they got away with it once...”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” He hoped it wasn’t true, but the odds were against that. “The first name on the list is still here—make him your top priority,” he told his sister. “Because if there are still fraudulent work visas being sold through my embassy, he’s the guy. And I want to shut him down now.”
“Got it,” she said. “Any by the way, those foreign bank accounts they might not want anyone to know about? Shouldn’t be a problem. We can start digging without warrants, but at some point in this investigation you’re going to need one on each of your suspects. Especially for those bank accounts.”
Alec thought about it for a moment. “What are my options? I’m really concerned about this getting out. McKinnon said Vishenko used to have at least one FBI agent in his pocket, and still might for that matter. Not to mention who knows all else. I don’t want anyone to know they’re under investigation until the indictments come out, especially Vishenko.” While Alec knew that might not be possible, he at least wanted to maintain secrecy until Caterina Mateja was brought in safe and sound.
“Who knows about your investigation so far?”
“Besides the president and the secretary of state? And the king of Zakhar? Just a handful of people, including McKinnon and your husband. And now you and D’Arcy.”
“D’Arcy has connections at the Department of Justice. Let me give him a call, see who he wants to approach at the DOJ about this. I’m thinking you want wiretaps on all these people, not just Vishenko. Right?”
“I hadn’t thought about it, but yeah.”
Keira chuckled softly in his ear. “Well, Baker Street did tell me to give you whatever you need, even if you don’t know you need it,” she murmured. “I guess that counts as one you owe me,” she said, using terminology from their childhood. Then she became all business again. “You’re going to need evidence to substantiate your warrant requests. Do you have any?”
Alec remembered what he’d learned at the meeting earlier tonight. “I might. I’ll get McKinnon working on that first thing in the morning.”
“Sounds good. This is enough for me to start on. I’ll get back to you when I have anything to report. Encrypted reports sent to the embassy are okay? Or should I call?”
Alec thought rapidly. “Encrypted reports are probably okay, but call me before you send one so I know it’s on the way. Supposedly, the only men involved in the fraud at the embassy are the seven names I already gave you, but you never know. I’d rather err on the side of caution.”
“Works for me.”
Now that his business was finished, Alec glanced at his watch again and saw how late he was going to be, but still took a minute to ask, “So how’s my favorite niece?”
“Your only niece is a walking, talking nightmare, a disaster waiting to happen. I shudder to think what she’ll be like when she grows up. But don’t tell Cody I said so. She takes after her daddy in everything. She can charm her way out of anything—or at least she thinks she can—just by smiling that winsome smile.”
“Give her a kiss for me anyway.” Alec hung up the phone, smiling at the thought of Alyssa. If he could have a daughter like her...
* * *
Angelina parked her little red Fiat across the street from her apartment building, locked it and hurried inside. She was worried Alec might be there before her, but she had time to get her mail and ring for the elevator before Alec walked through the front door carrying a garment bag slung over one shoulder.
He crossed the foyer with his brisk stride, slid one arm around her waist and pulled her tightly into his embrace for a long, lingering kiss. She thought about resisting for less than two seconds. Then she didn’t think at all. When he finally raised his head, he said, “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I left you at the palace.”
Angelina glanced around to make sure no one was watching. But the lobby was empty. She smiled at Alec, a smile of promise and expectation. Then the elevator doors opened with a ding. She grabbed Alec’s arm, pulled him inside with her and punched the button for her floor before leaning in for another kiss as the elevator doors swished shut.
Only then did a man move from the shadows where he’d been waiting for Lieutenant Mateja to return. He looked up to confirm what floor the elevator stopped on and smiled to himself. He pulled out a little notebook and made an entry, glancing at his watch to record the exact time. Then he headed out of the building, whistling a gay little Zakharian folk tune, a satisfied expression on his face.
