Page 32 of Philly
“For government contracts,” she said, her gaze flitting up to meet Leo’s. He nodded. She’d toyed with that idea, even assumed that’s what Liza thought. But now, in her hand, she held the proof.
“How does that play into Liza’s murder?” Gabriel asked.
She glanced over as a tendril of warmth snaked through her—he didn’t doubt or question her. Everything on paper said Liza’s death was a casualty of the bombing—intentional, butnot targeted. She believed otherwise, and Gabriel appeared to believeher.
“These payments here,” she said, pointing to a column on the paper. Gabriel leaned over, looked, then nodded. “These are transactions moving money out of Nolan Enterprises. And these here?” She pointed to the fourth column over, and again he nodded. “Those are payments into bank accounts owned by Francois Maraud, the head of the Operation Nationalists, the far-right terrorist group in France that claimed responsibility for the bomb.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “The working theory is that the Nolans fund this group, and then what?”
She flipped the page. “And then we get this,” she said. Rather than look at his own papers, he leaned over again and scanned hers. The subtle scent of bay rum and tobacco—the plant version, not the cigarette version—teased her nose. She wasn’t drawn to it. Not at all.
“Nolan Enterprises gets a contract to supply the French police with everything from training clothing to uniforms,” Gabriel said, sitting back, the whirl of air as he moved wrapping his smell around her.
“Don’t forget the sheets and towels and blankets and every other type of cloth needed to run both their police academy and local military bases,” Callie added.
“Both of which were bolstered in reaction to the attack on their homeland,” he said, more to himself as he sat back and grabbed his coffee. “Why didn’t you find this earlier, Leo?”
“They wouldn’t be the first company to do this,” Leo said. “Which I hate saying but is the truth. As to why I didn’t find it earlier, their books and records all look good—even Ava mentioned how good they looked.”
“Too good,” Gabriel muttered.
Leo nodded. “But if you don’t have some indication of where to look, it’s a massive amount of man—or woman—power to find the needle in the haystack. When we got the additional information from Liza’s file, well, it was like a metal detector pointing to the needle. All we had to do was zero in.”
Gabriel’s eyes drifted back to the papers. “You’re sure it’s the Nolans?”
She stilled at the question, her hunter’s instincts kicking in. Nothing had changed from one heartbeat to the next, but his tone carried a note that her experienced ear dialed into. It held curiosity, which she expected. And a tinge of something not quite doubt or disbelief, but something that danced with those two emotions—also something she expected. But what she hadn’t expected was the tiny hint of anticipation she heard, as if hewantedwhat he was hearing to be true.
“Yes,” Leo said. Her gaze flickered to the younger man, who gave no indication of picking up on the undercurrent.
Something flashed in Gabriel’s eyes, but only for a second. “What now, then?” he asked, turning to her.
She studied him. He knew something they didn’t and wasn’t sharing. “We investigate more, shore up the evidence, then present it to the appropriate FBI office. I’d suggest the one in New York, as the team I left doesn’t have the best leadership. Rian Nolan will go down, and then Laura can return to her family. To her life.”
Gabriel didn’t move, but the intensity in his eyes ramped up, and she’d swear he narrowed them at her. At least it felt that way. “Rian isn’t the bad guy here,” he said.
“That’s not what these say,” she said, holding up the paper.
His gaze darted to the sheet. “What does that mean?” he asked, turning to Leo to explain. She was happy with that; it gave her the opportunity to study him.
“The transactions have been coming from Rian Nolan’s computer in the company’s New York offices,” Leo said. “Disguised as expense reports. They then go into his personal account, then back out that same day to another account. And then from there, to a third account. That third account disburses the funds even further into six different accounts before being reconsolidated in the account of Maraud. None of the payments are large, but they are consistent and frequent. Which adds up.”
“All of these transactions come from Rian’s computer?” Gabriel repeated. Leo nodded. “Scheduled or manual?”
Leo blinked, then frowned. “That’s actually a good question. They aren’t consistent in their timing or dollar value, which leads me to believe they are manual.”
“Can you confirm?” he asked.
“Why are you so certain it isn’t him? If he’s the kind of man who abuses his wife, at best, he’s morally gray,” she said.
“What?” Leo said as Gabriel’s gaze landed on her.
“It’s true, Gabe,” she said, not stopping her slip into using his childhood nickname. “He’s a man with power who likely thinks he’s untouchable. For good reason, since many people like him are. Psychologically, what he did to Laura isn’t all that different from this,” she said, waving toward the papers on the table. “He’ll do whatever he wants to get whatever he wants because he can. Other people, other lives, are either in his way or a means to an end. You know I’m right.”
Silence fell between them. Leo shifted, his chair scraping against the floor, but he stayed silent.
Gabriel’s gaze held hers. She didn’t back down.
Several seconds passed before he asked, “How did Liza end up at the bar?”
