earlier. And then it was gone, something hard coming into his eyes. Nita could almost see as he built a wall, forcing himself to dissociate from Mirella, forcing himself to forget she was a person.
“I don’t see how that’s relevant.” He shrugged. “Are you done yet? I’m hungry.”
Nita opened her mouth, part of her not wanting to let him change the subject like this, wanting to bring Mirella up again. But she didn’t. She’d known who he was when she teamed up with him, and she’d known what he’d done to Mirella. Nothing had changed.
So she went back to the computer, screen-shot all the evidence, and then went online to find out how she could get in touch with Mirella. Her activist cause had a website with a contact form, and Nita pasted all the information and sent it, hoping Mirella would look. There was an email required at the bottom, and Nita hesitated before creating a new account just for this. She picked a username that couldn’t be traced back to her and then sent the information off.
Nita checked back on Almeida’s email and found that there was a response from Alberto Tácunan.
Saturday, 4pm. Hotel restaurant.
Tomorrow. Nita could deal with that. She fired back a response.
Sensitive subject. Meet in my room. 403.
After a moment, there was another response.
Fine. See you then.
Nita grinned, wild and fierce. Victory.
Step one of this plan was a go. If all went well, she’d have a password tomorrow and have the data by the end of tomorrow night. She closed her eyes and imagined all that information, all that power at her fingertips, and she licked her lips. She liked the way that idea made her feel. Liked the idea of being right at the top, of pulling all the strings that made the black market move, of making all the people who’d tried to hunt her whimper and grovel at her feet in fear.
She shivered slightly and tried to push the feeling away. She wasn’t there yet. She needed to stay focused, not get caught up in fantasies.
She checked Almeida’s schedule and found nothing for this evening, so she closed his computer and looked up at Kovit. “We’re done here.”
He was staring out the window, lost in thought. He blinked and refocused on her. “Okay.”
She turned to Almeida, still bound and gagged in the chair. “We don’t need him anymore. You can do what you want to him.”
Kovit’s attention turned to Almeida, hunger in his eyes, fingers white-knuckled on his switchblade. He slid off the bed, movements lithe and precise and predatory.
Nita took the laptop and went to the door. “I’ll wait down in the lobby. Come down when you’re finished.” She looked around the room, the beige carpet and white bedspread. “Try not to make a mess. I didn’t think to bring plastic tarps. Bloodless is better.”
“No evidence left behind. Not a problem.” He smiled, wide and creepy and playful, his gaze never leaving the terrified man bound to the chair.
She quietly closed the door behind her, cutting off the man’s grunting, struggling attempts to scream through his duct tape and Kovit’s delighted laugh as he got to work.
Nineteen
NITA TOOK THE LAPTOP to the lobby and spent the next hour or so looking through Almeida’s emails and messages, trying to get a firmer grasp of the scope of the black market. She also went onto his banking account, easily accessing it using passwords from a conveniently labeled folder on the desktop, and sent herself as much of his money as she could without triggering the antifraud software.
Afterward, she closed the laptop and went into her phone’s contacts list and messaged Diana. She might be Adair’s right-hand woman, but she was a good hacker, and Nita was sure there’d be something at Tácunan Law that she could pay Diana with, if she didn’t want any of the money she’d just stolen from Almeida. To deal with security cameras at Tácunan Law, Nita would need a hacker. She’d also need to contact Diana on her own, without Adair knowing. Just in case.
A couple of minutes after she sent the text, her phone rang. She checked the caller ID, found it was from Toronto. She hesitated for a moment—she really hated phone calls, why couldn’t people just text?—before she finally picked up.
“Nita?” The voice on the other end was soft. “It’s Diana.”
“Oh. Hi.”
“You messaged me about the security camera system at Tácunan Law?” Diana sounded unsure, her voice a little high.
“Yeah.” Nita took a deep breath