Page 55 of Billion-Dollar Ransom

“WHO IS THIS?” Nicky asked.

“My name is not important.”

Nicky Gordon didn’t recognize the number on her cell, although the call appeared to be originating from another country.

A standard trick if you were trying to disguise the location of your phone.

The caller was also using some kind of voice-distorting software; the tone modulated between masculine and feminine.

“Fine,” Nicky said. “Still need to call you something.”

“We do not have names. Only numbers.”

“So what’s your number?”

“My number will mean nothing to you, Agent Gordon. Listen carefully.”

She noted the reference to the plotters having numbers, not names, just as their lone witness, Ian Coughlin, had described during his interrogation.

Mike Hardy was straining to hear the other side of the conversation. Nicky raised her index finger, telling him to hold on. They both stopped short of the security check-in area to focus on the call.

“I’m listening,” she said.

“You have a mole on your task force.”

She’d already figured that out. “Who?”

The caller ignored her question. “Not only that, but this individual is intimately involved in the kidnapping plot you are investigating.”

“Unless you’re willing to share a name, I’m not interested.”

“Oh, you are very much interested. You are a special agent, skilled at investigations, and I am sure you’ll uncover the name. But will you be able to do it in time to save the lives of the Schraeder family?”

“Hold on—”

“Good luck.”

The caller disconnected.

Nicky waited until they were through security and at the elevator before she relayed the other end of the conversation to Mike. He smiled and let out a long, slow whistle.

“These people really do love messing with our heads, don’t they. Every time we turn around, there’s someone telling us that we should be chasing our own tails.”

Nicky scanned her card at the elevator. “That doesn’t mean they’re not telling the truth.”

“Next, someone is going to call me and say you’re behind the whole thing.”

Nicky gave him a sardonic smile. “Can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out, Detective Hardy.”

“Well, save me a piece of that sweet Schraeder billion,” Mike said. “I’ll help you make your getaway. I know people who know people.”

On the ride up, Nicky and Mike quickly reviewed the list of task force members, trying to figure out who could possibly be the mole.

The list was short; their task force wasn’t that large.

It was agreed that Nicky would give the names to someone in the Office of Professional Responsibility, OPR.

Pure surveillance and background checks for now.

As they reached their floor, Mike said the uncomfortable thing that nonetheless had to be said: “By the way, add my name to that list.”

“Because you used to work with Tim Dowd?”

“Okay, that. And I don’t want any doubts getting in the way of…”

“In the way of?” Nicky asked, watching him closely.

“Whatever it is we are,” he replied with a boyish smirk.

“Maybe I was going to add you to the list anyway.”

“That’s because you’re a smart woman,” he said, then his smirk vanished. “Oh, shit—I just thought of another name for you. Jenna Hetzel.”

“Why her?”

“Bunch of years ago, she used to be Dowd’s partner.”

Nicky nodded. “Consider her added.”

Before they reached the office, Nicky’s assistant, Hope Alonso, intercepted them with a padded envelope in her hand.

“There’s another tape.”