Secretive Read Free Page B

phone. “Special Agent Vazarri,” he said, continuing to read the file spread across his desktop. After a second, he looked up. “Come again?”
    He swiveled toward his younger partner. Greg Sato was on the phone, too, setting up a dinner date. Sato leaned back in his chair, one elbow propped on the chair arm as he twirled his gold pen through his fingers.
    Mort caught Sato’s eye and pointed to the phone. “New development. Jack Andrews case.”
    Sato’s feet hit the floor. He ended his call and moved to Mort’s desk.
    “Are you sure?” Mort asked the caller. “Okay, send me whatever you do have.” He slapped his phone down and said to Sato, “The money’s gone.”
    Sato’s dark eyes narrowed. “How much?”
    Mort used the hunt-and-peck method of typing to bring up his email account and log in. “All of it. The GRS account has been cleaned out.”
    “That’s impossible,” Sato said. “That account is frozen.”
    “I know.” Mort pushed the monitor so the overhead florescent lights didn’t glare on it. “But there it is.” He tapped the screen. “Zilch.”
    Sato whistled. “Computer trail?”
    “They’re working on it.”
    Sato leaned against a nearby desk and crossed his arms. “There go your last few weeks. No coasting into retirement now.”
    Mort shrugged. “Didn’t think that would happen anyway.” He was scheduled to retire December thirty-first.
    Sato pointed his chin at the computer monitor. “How long ago did it go missing?”
    “Yesterday. Seven p.m.”
    “We’d better pay the ex-Mrs. Andrews a visit.”
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    T HE frigid wind sliced across the back of Anna’s neck. She shivered and turned up the collar of her coat. This was more like it. It should be cold during the holidays. She needed to buy a scarf at the market. And gloves, she thought happily, as she cupped her pink fingers around the lighter to protect the flame as she lit a cigarette. Her thick black hair was cut in a severe stacked bob that ended above the nape of her neck. The sides that framed her face were cut on a diagonal, leaving the left side longer than the right. She took a long drag on the cigarette and paced a few steps farther from Ernesto, who was waiting near the car.
    They were driving to a nearby city for dinner, and Victor had been held up by a phone call. She ambled a few more feet along the thick stone wall, her boots squishing down into the moist decaying leaves and pine needles that lined the side of the road. She slipped her cell phone out of her pocket, dialed, and placed it to her ear. It rang twice, then Wade answered.
    “Are you in position? Were you able to get there?” Anna asked. It was the first moment she’d had alone since the long flight from South Africa. She glanced over her shoulder. Ernesto stamped his feet by the car door, blowing out clouds of white air. No sign of Victor.
    “Course. No probs,” said Wade. “So you think this will work? He’ll really pay up?”
    “Yes, it will work. He needs her to take the fall. Otherwise, it all comes back on him.”
    “So, when should I do it?”
    There was a murmur of voices behind her. She made a show of taking another long drag on the cigarette. She kept the phone hidden under her swath of hair. “Now. Do it now.”
    She dropped her cigarette and ground it out with the toe of her polished boot while slipping the phone into her pocket.
    She turned, climbed the small incline to the car, a smile on her face. “All ready?”

Chapter Two
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    I T wasn’t Jack. Zoe backed away from the window and sat down on the corner of the bed. She’d been so excited, so sure it was Jack.
    Maybe her instincts were way off, and he wasn’t ever going to show up. She’d thought a lot about Helen’s “intervention.” Maybe Helen was right and Zoe needed to move on, stop waiting for Jack. He hadn’t made any promises, just said that he would see her again and that was vague at best.
    This waiting around