Matt pushed the end call button, slipped the phone into his pocket and looked at her. Her face wasn’t hard to miss since she was right there in front of him. They were practically standing on each other. Way too close. It was time to do something about that, so Matt stepped around her. Unfortunately, his arm swiped her right breast, causing her to suck in her breath. Matt ignored both the swipe and her reaction, and he headed into the kitchen, figuring she’d follow.
She did.
“Too bad you’re not a Navy SEAL,” she mumbled. She brushed her fingers over the tiny one-foot mini tree that had come predecorated with about a dozen tacky ornaments. It was his sole attempt to recognize the holidays. “I hear they’re fearless.”
Matt just glared at her. “That won’t work.”
“What won’t?” she asked innocently.
“Insulting me.”
She scratched her eyebrow. Auburn eyebrows that didn’t match her now-chocolate-brown hair. “I was actually trying to goad you.”
“That won’t work, either. So, talk to me about this so-called evidence that’ll exonerate you,” Matt insisted. If there was anything to it, and that was a huge if, he could pass on the info to the authorities once she was in custody.
“Surveillance disks,” she answered. “Dominic records everything that goes on in every room. And I mean everything. Since the murder happened in his office at the estate, I’m sure some information about it will be on one or more of the disks.”
Matt didn’t even try to suppress a loud groan. “And I’m guessing there are plenty of these disks?”
“Hundreds in a vault in the basement. I have the code to get into the vault. That’s not the problem. The problem is, according to someone who’s familiar with the estate, Dominic only keeps each disk one year. That means if I don’t act fast, he’ll erase any evidence I can use.”
He leaned slightly closer. “That isn’t helping your case, you know.”
“You mean because if Dominic records everything, then the sheer volume will make it impossible for us to find the evidence?”
“You,” he corrected.
“You what?”
“You said it’ll be impossible for us to find the evidence. There is no us in this delusional plan, only you.”
“Oh, there’s an us all right.” She shook her head, and sent a lock of her chin-length hair sliding across her cheekbone. “The little blond-haired girl in that picture changes everything.”
“No. She doesn’t.”
And Matt was almost positive he believed that.
Cass Harrison apparently thought otherwise because she just stared at him.
“Okay,” he said trying a different angle. “Let’s suppose for argument’s sake that there is disk evidence. How do you intend to get it?”
“We will use equipment to jam Dominic’s disk surveillance feed. After that, we can gain access to the basement. Since covert measures are your specialty, that shouldn’t be a problem. Then, we’ll open the vault and search through the disks until we find what we’re looking for.”
Matt bypassed the last half of what she said and groaned again. “Equipment? What kind of equipment?”
“That’s another area where I’ll need your help. I don’t have access to the kind of equipment necessary to bypass Dominic’s state-of-the-art security system, and it’s not something I can buy.”
Matt really didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. “But I do have access?”
She made an of course sound. “Don’t make me quote questionably obtained intel reports about the recent rescue of an American businesswoman who was being held hostage in South America. The only way the military and the Justice Department could have gotten her out was if they’d used the exact kind of jamming equipment that we need.”
He scowled at her. “And you think the Justice Department just leaves this equipment unsecured so anyone can use it?”
“No. But I think you can get it if it becomes necessary. And guess what? That little girl in the picture makes it necessary.”
Matt leaned in. “Yet another example of totally faulty reasoning. Or maybe it’s just a lie.”
She groaned. “I wish you’d stop accusing me of lying.”
“Sorry.” An apology Matt definitely didn’t mean, and his tone conveyed that. “It’s just that I get a little testy when someone breaks into my house, holds a tranquilizer gun on me and then demands that I steal classified equipment, break ranks and join in a halfassed, stupid plan that would almost certainly get both of us killed.”
“It’s not a half-assed, stupid plan.” But then she paused, shrugged. “Okay, maybe it does have some half-assed, stupid elements to it, but I’m doing the best I can with what I have. And what I have is you, Matt Christensen. You’re a highly trained federal agent. You can get us into that estate.”
In most cases, that would be true.
But not this time.
Judging from the intel reports he’d read, Dominic Cordova’s estate was a fortress. With reason. The man had enraged at least a dozen people, criminals, who killed as easily as they breathed. And that kind of situation made a person paranoid about security.
“Why didn’t you just ask the authorities to check out Dominic’s place, huh?” Matt asked. “If the evidence is there, they could find it—legally.”
“First of all, the authorities wouldn’t believe me. And if by some miracle they did, they wouldn’t risk offending their new ally by requesting the necessary documents to do a search of his estate. Plus, I’m about ninety-nine percent sure there’s a leak in communications. I think Dominic may have an insider in the Justice Department, and this person might be feeding him official information.”
Interesting. Matt hadn’t heard that particular accusation. Perhaps because she’d just made it up. He certainly wasn’t about to assume it was true. “Is that a guess, or do you actually have proof?”
“Proof. I did a test a few days ago and phoned in some bogus info to a person I thought I could trust in the Justice Department. Then, I timed it. In less than an hour, Dominic received a call on his secure line at his estate. The caller spoke through a computer voice scrambler so I have no idea who he or she is, but the person relayed the bogus info verbatim to Dominic.”
Matt considered all of that and decided it could mean nothing. It did, however, warrant some further investigating. “Do I dare ask how you gained access to Dominic’s secure phone line?”
“No.” She had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “That’s not a good question to ask.”
If this entire conversation hadn’t been so frustrating, Matt would have smiled. But he doubted he’d be doing much smiling tonight. “How’d you ever hook up with Dominic Cordova in the first place?”
She angled her head and stared at him. “Is this small talk?”
“In a way.” Matt checked his watch. “I’m waiting on my friend to call back. If he doesn’t within the next ten minutes, I’m phoning the cops. I figure this is as good a way as any to pass the time.”
For a moment Matt didn’t think she’d answer. Strange, since she’d volunteered everything else. But then, he’d probably riled her with that threat to call the cops. Which wasn’t exactly a threat. He would call them.
As soon as Ronald verified that she was lying.
“Dominic,” she mumbled, saying his name as if it were a persistent infection. She thumped a tiny Santa figure dangling from the Christmas plant and sent the Santa swaying. “He sought me out, attending the same parties, the same social functions. He pursued me. At the time, I didn’t realize it was a setup, that he wasn’t interested in me nearly as much as my multimillion-dollar trust fund.”
“He’s that good an actor?”
Her sigh was laced with regret. “He’s that good, and I can usually spot a phony. My parents might have been wealthy, but they weren’t born that way. They were streetwise, and before they died they were always warning me about guys like Dominic.”
“But you missed the signs with him,” he pointed out.