“I can do it.” He certainly didn’t need Cici’s sister’s help.
While Cici stepped inside, he pulled up the list Bartlett had sent and logged in to a secure database used by his company, which allowed him to cross-reference the names.
Not many had lived in Maine. Asher narrowed the search parameters to include only men between forty-five and sixty-five.
That narrowed the list even more.
He plugged the remaining names into Google, one at a time, searching for images, and found one that looked familiar. He hadn’t gotten a good look at all the men outside the barn earlier that day. This could be the one who’d been issuing the orders.
The photograph looked professional, plastered to theAbout the Teampage of a business that sold some kind of tech.
His name was Wendall Gagnon, sixty-three, and according to the attached dossier, he was the president and major shareholder in a company that developed software for retailers. He was clean-shaven with white hair, wide-set hazel eyes, and perfectly straight teeth.
He looked every bit the entrepreneur. No mention of a wife or family, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist.
Apparently, the authorities had picked him up once, though for what, the file didn’t say. Which was odd.
More odd was the fact that Gagnon had never been charged with a crime, and he seemed not to be linked to any of the other criminals on the list Bartlett had sent. It was almost as if his name had been included by accident.
The sliding door behind him opened and closed. “I got us some more…” Cici’s words ended on a gasp. “You found him!”
He shifted to give her a better view of the screen. “You agree? That looks like him?”
“I can’t believe you found him.”
Thanks to Cici’s suggestion. “Do you know the names of the suspects in the Ballentine murders?” Maybe that would help him figure out how this guy had been involved.
“Leonard Taggart. He was a cop at the time, the chief of police when he was killed last month. The other one, Lois Stratton, is still in the hospital after a gunshot wound.”
“Okay, let me cross-reference those names…” Sure enough, Gagnon had once been arrested by Taggart in Shadow Cove. “I’m betting that’s how they met.”
“Maybe Taggart pegged him as someone who could help.” Cici shifted to face Asher. “I heard he used his position with the police to recruit, so that tracks. Now that we’ve found Gagnon, what do we do with this information?”
Asher saved it all, then started an email. “I’ll send it to Bartlett tonight and have him get a contact in Philly for us. We can call them tomorrow.” The last word came out on a yawn. “Of course, that puts you back on their radar, but I doubt you’ve been off. Are you okay with that?”
“Sure. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
He finished the email and hit Send. It was a solid lead, the first step in turning the tables on Wendall Gagnon.
Soon enough, God willing, this cat-and-mouse game would be over.
Asher was tired of being hunted. It was time to become the hunter.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The laptop closed with a muffled thump, blending into the chorus of frogs and crickets outside the cabin’s screened-in patio.
Cici sipped her lemonade, enjoying the sweet tang.
Beside her, Asher’s face was lit by the faint glow from the overhead light. The air was cool now, a relief after the stifling heat of the truck. Her skin prickled with goose bumps, and maybe a little fear, which came from seeing the face of the man who’d murdered Mr. D, a reminder of the danger they were in.
“We need to figure out how Gagnon and his goons keep finding us.” Asher’s voice was low and steady.
“I thought you were convinced it was someone in Forbes’s operation.” Though Cici wasn’t sure she agreed.
“I am. The question is, who is it? How can we smoke them out?”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, but if a mole is behind this, then how did they find us at the barn? How did they know we got on a train? Forbes didn’t know those things.”