Page 77 of Enigma

Tevin’s eyes lit with the excitement he always got when a complex puzzle started coming together. “But here’s where it gets interesting. I kept connecting the dots and following the money, and . . . I think this is all linked to Anton Karakov.”

Jason moved closer to look at the screen. “You actually found a direct link?”

“I did.” Tevin nodded. “And Anton Karakov is big. He runs criminal enterprises all over the world.”

“Yes, he does,” Olive murmured. “This almost seems like small beans compared to Anton’s usual enterprises.”

Tevin’s eyes continued to light up. “But I don’t think this is small beans at all. I think it’s much bigger than we ever thought. Whatever is going on in Oasis is an arm of a much larger, highly sophisticated organization.”

“Keep going.”

Tevin clicked to another screen. “I was able to trace some of the funds to one other person, a woman named Sarah Mitchell.”

Olive’s breath caught. “That’s the name the woman used when she went to Lloyd’s workplace asking about his schedule.”

The woman who’s possibly my mom.She didn’t say those words aloud, however.

“The same woman who probably abducted him.” Jason rubbed his jaw as if hiding his frown.

Olive stared at the financial records on the screen, her mind racing. “But why would she try to kill Lloyd and then abduct him?”

“Maybe something changed,” Jason said.

Tevin nodded. “Maybe she realized after the fact that he was still useful—as long as he was under their complete control.”

Olive looked at Sarah’s name on the screen, and a chill ran down her spine. She thought about the surveillance photo Simon had shown them. The woman looked so much like an older version of her mother. It was unsettling.

“Tevin . . .” she started. “Is there any way to find out Sarah Mitchell’s real identity?”

“I’m working on it. But whoever created this persona was a professional.” Tevin paused, studying Olive’s expression. “Why? Do you think you know who she might be?”

Olive met Jason’s eyes across the room, seeing her own suspicions reflected there.

“I think,” she said carefully, “Sarah Mitchell might be my mother.”

The gang had agreed they needed to meet somewhere more private than the hotel.

Tevin had used his computer magic and found a house for them to rent. Then the three of them had packed up their things and headed out.

By the time they got to the house, the rest of the team was in flight. They should be landing any time, and it would take an hour to drive there from the airport.

The old farmhouse that sat on the outskirts of Oasis was unremarkable, forgettable, and perfect for their purposes.

She, Jason, and Tevin all sat around the kitchen table. The men drank cheap coffee as they reviewed all the information they’d collected so far.

“How are you feeling right now, Olive?” Jason asked when Tevin ran to the bathroom.

Olive tested the movement of her shoulder. The cut Elena had given her would heal, but her ribs were still tender, and she had a persistent headache from where her head had hit the bathroom wall.

“Sore, but functional,” she finally said. “I’m not sitting this out.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you should. But it’s going to be easy to let your emotions dictate your actions.”

Her jaw stiffened. “I’ll be on guard.”

“I know you will . . . but that doesn’t mean I don’t still have some concerns.”

“And I appreciate that . . . but the only time you’ll need to be concerned about me is if I don’t find any answers.”