Page 69 of Midnight Secrets

“The best way to tell you is to show you.” At each step, Felicity clicked a key, and a different screenshot came up. “That initial flow of data was several terabytes of bank account data and stock exchange movements and hedge fund quotations. The stock exchange now is run by quants running algorithms that operate with split-second timing and there are several million exchanges done every second of the day. It is almost unquantifiable. Almost.”

The screen started slowing. Was less a flow and more a series of data sheets. The data sheets had elements highlighted and the highlighted elements were then put on another set of pages.

“I can go over this step-by-step if anyone wants, but my system analyzed the funds and bank accounts and they were all shell companies. But digging down there were a few names that jumped out. First of all, the top earner was the PRC.”

Joe let out his breath slowly. The People’s Republic of China was behind the Massacre? If this news got out, it would mean war. A big, big war that would dwarf anything that had happened in Iraq and Afghanistan, which had been limited wars. This would be a war fought on land, sea and air, the US against a billion and a half people and a military of over seven million people, including reservists. A war with a nuclear power that also had a fleet of submarines with nuclear warheads that could cross the Pacific. A cold shudder ran down his spine.

“But there were also individuals who earned big. And the one who earned the most—several billion dollars in fact—is a man who is very well-connected.” She glanced up at Metal, then at Joe. “And he was on the Senate Intelligence Committee, too, so our ex-CIA guy is right to stay off the radar.”

The screen was coalescing, thousands of lines scrolling down, slowing, until one name was on the screen.

Joe exhaled again. This was worse than anything anyone could have imagined because the name was a man who was supposed to have been Alex Delvaux’s vice president. Hector Blake.

A cry came from the corner and Joe turned, goose bumps rising on his skin. Isabel. That was a cry of pain and shock. He whirled ready to run to her, reaching for the gun in his shoulder holster, ready to leap and throw his body over hers because Isabel in danger was his worst nightmare…

But she wasn’t hurt, no one was attacking her. She stood and turned to him, her face utterly white. She swayed and he didn’t even feel his feet as he shot across the room to her, putting his arm around her, not as a sign of affection but to hold her up.

Lauren was looking up at them, white-faced too. Jacko was by her side in a second.

“The man, Joe. The man in my dreams. The monster of the Massacre.” Isabel pointed with a shaking hand at the drawing Lauren had made.

Joe looked at the drawing

“Hector Blake,” she said. “Uncle Hector.”

10

Isabel couldn’t have done it without Lauren.

“I’m not very visual,” she apologized when they sat down in a corner. “I never have been. Unless it’s about food, I’m not very observant.”

Lauren smiled and patted her hand. “My dear, who cares about being visual when you can produce food like that? No one cares. But Iamvisual so let’s see if we can do something here. You want that, don’t you?”

“Oh God, yes!” Isabel said. A pang of anxiety pulsed in her chest. “More than anything. This man is in my nightmares, night after night after night. People don’t usually repeat their dreams. I’ve done a lot of reading up on it. A repeat dream is rare and is always anchored in reality in some way. So this man, this man I call the Monster, somehow exists in some way. Even though I don’t recognize his face and I never remember it when I wake up.”

Lauren set herself up—a big pad over her knees, several different types of pencils, erasers, charcoal sticks. The tools of her trade just as knives and wooden spoons and pans were Isabel’s. “That’s where I come in. The human face is infinitely variable. Almost eight billion people in the world and, except for twins, no two faces are alike. But there are also only so many variables. Face shape, cheekbone and chin shape, eyes, nose, mouth. So this is going to be a collaborative experience. You talk, and I listen. I’ve got a big pad because we’re going to strike out a lot. That’s the nature of the exercise. We’ll get a lot of things wrong before getting them right.”

“Like kissing a lot of frogs before finding?—”

“A Joe?” Lauren asked, then laughed at the face she made. “Don’t be embarrassed. Joe’s worth kissing a lot of frogs for. He’s a really good guy.”

“Yes.” Isabel sighed. “He is. In a way, he’s the reason I’m doing this, trying to exorcise a face I see in my nightmares. I long to get all of this out of my system because he deserves a sane, whole woman. Right now I’m a mess.”

Lauren was testing the consistency of the pencils on the top left-hand corner. “Don’t worry about it,” she said absently, cocking her head as she studied the results. “Joe will take you any way he can get you. He’s crazy about you. Has been for months, I hear.”

Isabel’s eyes opened wide. When she’d arrived she’d been a massive wreck. “Really?”

Lauren looked up, studied her face. “You didn’t know? We knew the week you moved in that something big was going on with Joe.”

“He didn’t make a move. He didn’t say anything to me. Most guys—” She stopped for a second because she didn’t want to sound boastful. But then Lauren was a beautiful woman. She’d have been hit on a billion times in her life. No one hit on Laurennow, not with big, bad Jacko glowering by her side, but before Jacko they must have, surely. She knew what that was like. Guys who were attracted usually weren’t shy about saying so or doing something about it.

“He was in very bad shape,” Lauren said, her voice gentle. “You might not have noticed because he did his best to hide it, but Joe wasn’t anywhere close to recovery when you moved in. He’d only just begun putting himself back together. Jacko told me Joe said he didn’t have anything to offer a woman until he was in better shape. He had a good job right here at ASI but he fought them hard because he thought he didn’t deserve the job and the salary until he could work as hard as everyone else. Jacko says Joe didn’t dare make a move on you. But surely you noticed that your garden was in fabulous shape, he’d drive you anywhere if so much as a drop of rain fell and that your house was in a great state of repair?”

“Yes, but—” Isabel’s head whirled. And she felt ashamed. Joe hadn’t wanted to make a play for her until he had more to offer? “Didn’t he see what shape I was in?” She met Lauren’s eyes, brimming with sympathy. “You have no idea what I was like. My head would spin for no reason and I had to sit down if I didn’t want to faint. I spooked at loud noises, I didn’t sleep at night but then sleepwalked my way through the day. I was constantly exhausted.”

“You had and probably still have PTSD,” Lauren said gently. “No one better than a soldier to understand that. They all saw horrible things in the war. And frankly, I don’t think Joe cared that you were a mess. I think all he saw was that you’re beautiful and fascinating.” Lauren patted her hand.

Isabel felt like hanging her head. The first month or two she hadn’t noticed much about Joe Harris other than the fact that he was an amazingly helpful neighbor and that she could count on him for just about anything. She’d been in a fog of grief and sadness. But Joe had had his own wounds that hadn’t stopped him from helping her every way he could.

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