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“Oh my God, yes. I need an outlet for my caffeine intake. I can only pick on the fact checkers so many times before it gets boring.”

He had no clue what she was talking about, but it made him chuckle.

“Here’s an idea. You could always lower your caffeine intake.”

“Bite your tongue, mister.”

“I would rather bite you.”

The words were out before he could stop them. He cleared his throat. “As much fun as this is, Miss Davenport, I called for a reason. I need you to go over the events of your attempted kidnapping again.”

In the background he heard what sounded like the tab on an aluminum can popping. Was she drinking soda to go with her coffee? He shook his head.

“There isn’t a ton to tell. Lola, the bartender, brought me a drink after I spooked her. Said it was an apology. When I stood up, I got dizzy but didn’t think much of it. I hadn’t eaten much that day.”

Of course she hadn’t.

“By the time I got to the door, I could barely see, and the room was spinning, so I knew somebody had put something in my drink. Looking back, I’m pretty sure it was Lola. I tried to tell the doorman, but he and another man just put me in the limo. I don’t know if he was working with them or if he just thought I’d gotten too drunk and the limo was my ride home.”

“OK, now what about the accident?”

“What about it? We were rear-ended, and after the two men sitting in the backseat with me got out, someone pulled me from the other side. It was dark, so I never got a look at whoever it was.”

Peter hated the knot her story put in his stomach. She could have died.

“And what exactly did the person say before you got in the cab?”

“He told me to run on his signal, because he had a car waiting for me around the corner and that I should go home and call you.”

“How did he say my name?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean, did he say Agent Mercer, Mr. Mercer, or something else?”

“Oh. Neither, he said, ‘Go home. Call Peter Mercer.’ Why is this so important? Have you figured something else out? Do you know who this guy is? Tell me.”

Her rapid-fire questions put a smirk on his face.

“Calm down. I don’t know yet. It’s just important for me to have as many details as possible. I can’t talk about it on the phone, but I found something in one of the pictures. We’ll talk tonight, but right now I have to go.”

“You’re an asshole and a tease.”

“Darlin’ you have no idea.” He clenched his fist. His tongue kept getting away from him today. “That was inappropriate. I apologize.”

Carrie made a noise that was a mix of laughter and annoyance. “You don’t have to apologize for that. I’m still pissed you stole my files. If you’re going to apologize, that’s what it should be for.”

“Don’t hold your breath, sweetheart. I did that out of necessity.”

“If you won’t tell me what you found, I’m going back to work.” She hung up before he could respond. Just as well. He slipped the microchip out of his pocket and put it in the slot on his phone.

His company phone was more secure, but he wasn’t sure who to trust, and his boss had already told him to tread lightly with Corbit Upwood.

When he opened the folder, dozens of spreadsheet files appeared in the directory, along with a few other file types. It was clear this would take a while to sift through, so he clicked on the single plain text file at the top of the list.

Just as he’d hoped, there was an address. It was for a rest area near Manassas. The next document outlined a travel time line for someone, complete with flight manifests and hotel records. It took a few minutes to pinpoint that it was a list of places Corbit Upwood had been. Next to each trip was a name. Were these the girls who had gone missing? Was this person saying Corbit had something to do with the disappearances? It seemed like a stretch to Peter, but he wouldn’t write the idea off.

This was going to require some pretty deep digging. Was Corbit Upwood part of a sex trafficking ring? Just a few weeks ago, the man had testified at a Senate hearing about trafficking rings that the CIA helped the FBI break up through international intelligence gathering. It was his mission to get an anti-trafficking bill passed.

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