skills behind them.
Sasha had the upper hand.
She stayed up until three in the morning obtaining any and all possible information about AJ, or Alex Hofmann Junior, from his phone.
She was pretty sure AJ hadn’t even managed to get past her phone’s security to make a call.
He’d taken a few precautions with the small computer that everyone trusted but few understood. The kind that turned off his tracking and didn’t automatically offer access to his microphone. By midnight she was deep in his e-mail.
AJ lived in Florida, and from what she could tell, he’d had a series of go-nowhere jobs that he kept for a little over a year before moving on to something new. The address she found for him, or at least the address his Amazon orders were shipped to, was to a condo on the beach that his piss-ass jobs couldn’t possibly afford. Smoke and mirrors. All of it.
There was no way he was exactly who he said he was. Only she wasn’t going to find out much more without a juicer computer that wasn’t recording her every move.
Sasha found flight information from Virginia, where his parents now lived, to London and then Berlin. He’d been in Germany for almost two weeks.
A quick track search of what he looked up online had plenty of Richter hits. The basic website of the school, the few faculty images they provided, most of those who actually lived on campus and didn’t leave very often.
Right before she closed the phone for the night, she found where AJ had performed two extensive searches, looking for the names of Amelia’s ex-roommates at Richter. Not that his quest for information had gotten him anywhere.
Apparently AJ was doing exactly what he said he was doing while in Europe. That didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping his personal truths to himself.
Then again, who didn’t?
She’d trust him as much as he trusted her.
Probably less.
She slid into bed, a smile on her swollen lips.
And the man kissed like a demon.
A phone ringing by her bed woke her four hours later.
“Good morning, Sasha.”
So he had managed to hack into her phone. “AJ.”
“Seems we managed to pick up the wrong phones last night.”
She swung her legs off the small bed, rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Did we? I hadn’t noticed.”
He released a short laugh. “I can bring yours by . . .”
“I have business in the city. I’ll meet you at the Brandenburg Gate at noon.”
“Noon it is.” He hung up.
Sasha smiled. Things were about to get interesting.
“Miss Budanov?”
Sasha turned with the sound of her name. Wearing black leather pants suitable for riding her bike and her hair pulled back into a bun, she was prepared for her hour-long drive into the city.
Linette stood outside the administration offices, holding the door open. “Do you have a minute?”
She couldn’t help but feel a bit of déjà vu with the headmistress asking her to come into her office.
“Of course.”
Sasha detoured out of her chosen path and through the admin doors.
“I have someone I’d like you to meet,” Linette said as she walked beside her toward her private office.
“Oh?”
“An old friend.”
Sasha followed Linette into her office, where she closed the door behind them. Standing by the window overlooking the courtyard was a man in a three-piece suit, short salt-and-pepper hair, and glasses. He turned their way when they walked in and instantly smiled.
“Sasha Budanov. You’re as lovely as ever.”
Sasha planted her feet and waited for him to approach. “Have we met?”
“Not officially,” Linette interjected. “Geoff has witnessed many of Richter’s graduation ceremonies, including yours.”
Sasha’s gaze moved from the headmistress to the man she addressed as Geoff. “You have me at a disadvantage, then.”
He walked closer, the scent of his cologne moving with him. Geoff reached out a hand. “Geoff Pohl, Miss Budanov. We finally have an official meeting.”
Sasha shook his hand, found his grip a little too familiar. Not a double squeeze from someone flirting, not a passing grip of a first meeting . . . but a knowing grip that put her on edge.
Linette indicated a chair. “What Geoff is trying to say is he wanted a chance to speak with you back when you were a student, Sasha. For reasons you and I have discussed, that wasn’t possible. I thought perhaps you’d like an opportunity now that the reasons he couldn’t offer you employment then are gone.”
Sasha noticed that Geoff didn’t sit, but leaned against Linette’s desk with his hands gripping the wood.
“What kind of employment are we talking about?” CIA, FBI