CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Nash sat at his desk at Cytology and checked the feed from the security cameras around Cedar Springs High just as school was letting out. His unease over sending the five of them in to gather intel had only increased on day two of this operation. He searched for a glimpse of Sabrina, whom he hadn’t spotted all day. Which didn’t necessarily mean anything, considering the scattered camera placement around the school.

But Nash was worried. She was acting strangely that morning, and Nash couldn’t figure out what to make of it. Was she cracking under the pressure? It didn’t seem likely. Nothing seemed to break her.

Maybe she realized he had lied to her.

No. It was impossible for her to know the cameras outside her house were working perfectly. Telling her he needed to adjust them was the only plausible excuse for a random visit, other than telling her the truth — which he was having a hard time admitting even to himself.

The truth was that he just wanted to see her.

But instead of leaving her house with relief that she was safe, he was more unsettled than ever. There was something Sabrina wasn’t telling him. Something was worrying her more than just the obvious.

That intuitive feeling he’d had before flared up again. Some dangerous piece of the puzzle was still hidden, waiting to show its face when they were least expecting it. Did Sabrina have that same feeling? Is that why she was acting strangely?

He turned his eyes away from the school security feed and back to his laptop. Wincott and Greenly were the remaining suspects, but Greenly was at the top of the list because of his connection to Robert Carpenter. Patricia was headed to meet the flight attendant who had confirmed Robert’s alibi on the night Lily was murdered. Maybe she was Robert’s girlfriend and was lying for him, or maybe she was just someone Robert paid to lie for him about being on that plane. Patricia wanted to see for herself.

A call from FBI Albuquerque field director Carl Plouffe rang through on his computer, interrupting his thoughts.

“Agent Nash,” Plouffe said, his icy blue eyes almost piercing the screen.

“Yes, sir,” Nash replied. “Patricia isn’t back yet.”

“Yes, I know. I wanted to get a read on how you thought the case was going. Patricia seems quite certain you’re close to locking it down and finding the serum.” Nash understood the subtext: Plouffe wanted Nash to verify that Patricia wasn’t sugarcoating their results.

Nash nodded. “I hope so. We’ve vetted all the teachers and administrators. The ones who were at the retreat and received the windbreaker. And since then, our suspect pool has significantly narrowed. We’re extremely close to homing in on who has the serum so we can get it safely back to FBI hands.”

“Patricia updated me on how you whittled it down. That’s the other reason I’m calling.” Plouffe shifted in his chair. “I assigned a few Albuquerque agents to back you up on the investigation of Wincott and Greenly.”

Nash knew this was the type of thing that other agents hated, convinced that the extra “help” was a slap in the face, affecting their ability to solve the case or at least get the credit for it. But Nash had never been ruled by his ego that way, especially now when his five assets could potentially be in danger. “Did they find anything else on either suspect?”

“Nothing substantial yet. But they did discover three part-time staff members who were also at the teachers’ retreat that you never accounted for.”

“Really?” said Nash. That meant that there were three more people than he’d originally thought who had received the green jacket. Three more suspects to add to the pool, just when they were getting so close.

“I’m sure most will alibi out, but I wanted to let you know,” Plouffe added. “I’ll email you the list. We’ll keep looking on our end, too.”

“Thanks for the help,” Nash said.

“Like I said, I’m sure it’s nothing. The Greenly lead you managed to dig up sounds extremely promising.”

“That one wasn’t me,” Nash replied honestly. “The five assets are responsible for most of our leads.” Nash was astounded at how far they’d come in such a short time. He had to hand it to Patricia.

Plouffe’s forehead creased in confusion. “What assets?”

It took a half second for Nash to understand. Plouffe had no idea that the five of them existed. He had never authorized any of it.

“How did Patricia tell you we got the lead about the windbreaker?” Nash asked carefully.

“The two eyewitnesses you found who were camping near the Springs. She said their accounts of that night matched up with the evidence.”

“So you don’t know anything about the five kids?”

Plouffe’s look remained blank and Nash’s anger at Patricia flared. From day one Nash had thought this assignment was inordinately bizarre and irresponsible. But his training, steeped in the philosophy of rank and hierarchy, had kept him from questioning it. He’d been assigned other cases with ethical boundary issues before. Now he could kill his former self for not asking more questions. Patricia had put the group in even more danger than he possibly imagined.

“Five kids?” Plouffe narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”