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“Or they flat-out steal it,” Fenn added.
“No doubt,” Tai nodded sagely. “Your ex opened the account in your name. He would have left himself a way to suck the funds back out. Once he initiates the transfer of the money electronically, we got him.”
“Tai’s right,” Paige added. “He’s been staying off the internet. Clearly the guy knows enough to realize his electronic signature can be traced. But he’s going to have to log in to transfer the money. When he does, I’ll know where he is. We’ll be mobilized and ready to hunt him down. Easy peasy.”
Jane took a deep breath. The pieces were falling into place. One step closer to putting Pete away for good. She could almost taste victory.
Paige nodded, already typing on her laptop.
“In the meantime, you two stay put,” Tai ordered, glowering through the screen. “I don’t have time to come rescue your butts. You hear?”
Bridger rolled his eyes. “I think we all know who’s ahead in the rescue count, Aqua Man, and it’s not you.”
Tai shook his shaggy head, as if Bridger were the saddest thing he’d ever seen. “You can’t count rescue for rescue, dude. Getting you out of trouble requires way more finesse than the few times you’ve had to help me out. Like that time in Kandahar. Do you have any idea how hard it was to find a burka in my size? No. Of course you don’t, because you never––”
Bridger laughed and shut the laptop. Tai’s voice droned on until the lid snapped shut. The minute he met Jane’s eyes, the smile faded. “We got this. Never doubt it.”
She didn’t doubt him. Or the rest of the team. Not one bit. If they were only going up against Pete, she wouldn’t even be concerned.
But rogue FBI agents? That had her scared.
For all of them.
19
Moonlight slantedthrough the cabin window, silvering the worn floorboards. The fire he built earlier was down to the last, glowing coals. Bridger stared up at the ceiling from the lumpy couch, listening to Jane’s restless tossing in the other room. He couldn’t blame her for the insomnia. This mess would give any law-abiding citizen nightmares.
“Can’t sleep either?” Jane’s voice cut through the dark.
He grunted. “Nope.”
Floorboards creaked as Jane padded into the main room. She perched on the armchair opposite him, knees pulled to her chest. “I can’t stop thinking about the money. The account’s in my name. Why can’t I just take it out and hand it to the real FBI?”
“What money?” he deadpanned.
Jane shot him a withering look.
He smirked. “Kidding. I wish it were that easy. Even if Pegs or Romero hand-picked a trusted agent for us to work with, admitting you have the stash before we know what other evidence Pete might have planted implicating you is a one-way ticket to prison. Or a shallow grave.”
“There has to be some way...” Jane trailed off, brow furrowing.
He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “We’ll figure this out. But not at 3 a.m.”
Jane sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know. It’s just...I feel so helpless. Pete hid Kellen and disappeared and I can’t even use his stupid money to find them.”
Bridger’s chest clenched at the despair in her voice. If only he could wrap her in his arms and promise it would all be okay.
“Try to get some rest.” His voice came out gruffer than intended. “We’ll need clear heads tomorrow.”
Jane nodded, eyes downcast. She shuffled back to the bedroom without another word.
He shifted to his other side, grimacing as his arm twinged. The healing bullet wound served as an ever-present reminder of the danger they faced. He’d die before letting anyone else get hurt. Kate and the others would fly in tomorrow with supplies. And hopefully a workable plan.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. They’d find a way through this mess. The alternative was unthinkable.
An owl hooted outside. He stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance in the moonlight. Jane’s breathing eventually evened out as she finally drifted to sleep. But his mind continued to race.
He worried about keeping Jane safe, worried about the boy, Kellen, he’d never even met, and he worried about Jason, out there alone tracking a Consortium assassin.
