“But that suggests Meldon was killed because of his ties to Tolliver, not the other way around.”
“Roy and I were chased through the law firm. And I’m convinced there was spyware on Tolliver’s computer. That again supports the theory that she was the key, not Meldon.”
“And you ran into an impersonator tossing Andre Watkins’s apartment.” She glanced sharply at Mace. “The imposter, he strike you as being one of Roman Naylor’s cohorts?”
“No, way too slick and sophisticated for that. And Meldon had no connection to Watkins. Only Tolliver. And they manipulated the time of her death to throw us off. I don’t see Naylor’s ‘bubbas’ running around putting steak and veggie residue in the lady’s trash, planting sperm in her, and installing spyware on the woman’s computer.”
“And the movement of money at this DLT escrow agency?”
“Tolliver again. And Roy said billions passed through that agency in connection with Shilling & Murdoch clients. And he said the managing partner, Chester Ackerman, was sweating bullets.”
“Kingman mentioned he has clients in Dubai.”
“I gather a lot of their clients are based in that region.”
“So presumably some of these billions were coming from the Middle East?”
“Guess so.” Mace grew rigid. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Beth pulled out her phone.
“Who you calling? Your buddy the DNI?”
“Sam Donnelly? Not yet.”
She spoke into the phone. “Steve Lanier please, it’s Chief Perry.”
“Steve Lanier? Isn’t he—”
“FBI AD, yeah.”
“Hey, Steve, Beth. I really need to talk to you. Yeah, it’s very important.”
Two hours later they were seated across from Lanier at the FBI’s Washington Field Office and had just finished, in alternating bursts, telling the man their findings.
Lanier leaned back in his chair. “Beth, I’ve seen some serious crap in my time, but this just blows my mind.”
A man entered the room and handed him a file before leaving.
He opened it and scanned the contents. “We got nothing back on the Meldon investigation. Hell, I don’t even think there was one. That should’ve been a red flag. But we did manage, with a lot of finagling, to get autopsy reports back on Agents Hope and Reiger.”
“Jarvis Burns told me about that.”
“I’m sure. Their throats were surgically sliced. A real professional job.”
“Okay, what does that tell us?” asked Beth.
Lanier closed the file. “That tells us we’ve got a major problem.”
“We knew that already,” said Mace.
“Not what I meant.” He spent the next five minutes filling the sisters in on what he did mean.
“Then it seems pretty clear,” said Beth. “What we have to do.”
Mace nodded. “I’m with you.”
Lanier looked between them. “Did I miss something?”
“It’s a sisterly thing,” explained Beth as she leaned forward and started talking fast. When she stopped, Mace jumped in and took up the line of thought.
“We’ll need Sam Donnelly for this,” said Lanier.
“Absolutely,” said Beth.
Thirty minutes later, all three rose to implement the plan they’d just hatched.
CHAPTER 109
IT WAS the next night and Mace was in western Maryland pushing the Ducati as hard as it would go. The deep rows of trees on either side of the road flicked by, like the black-and-white frames from an old film projector. She reached the crossroads and turned left, traveled another mile, and hung a right. Five hundred yards later she saw the old farm up ahead. She slowed the Ducati and then came to a stop, her boots hitting the dirt. Her eyes were tearing up a bit. Not from emotion. She was wearing a very special pair of contact lenses.
The falling-down house was to her right, listing like a ship in high rolling swells. To her left was an old silo rising into the sky. She could see that farther down a dirt road was the place she’d been told to go to: the barn. She saw no lights on, which didn’t surprise her. She twisted the bike’s throttle and headed toward it. Five feet from the barn she cut the engine, slipped off her helmet, and moved forward. Car lights immediately shot on to her left. She held up her hand to shield her eyes. The three men came forward. When they reached her she stumbled and grabbed one of the men for support. The tiny device in her hand with a special adhesive backing was transferred to the inner side of the man’s sleeve.
“Stand still,” one of them barked.
Mace stood rigidly as another man gave her an expert patdown and then ran a scanner up and down her body. He took his time and ran it several