Page 37 of Enigma (Pros and Cons Mysteries #6)
T en minutes later, they were all seated—Jason and Olive on one bed, Simon across from them on the other. Jason had holstered his weapon but kept his hand near it, his body language radiating suspicion and tension.
“Simon Long.” Olive tried to figure out where to start. “Special Operations Director for the Northeast Division of the CIA. We worked together on a case in Maine.”
“The Northeast Division of the CIA?” Jason cast her a dubious look. “That doesn’t exist.”
“That’s what I thought also, but he was working with the feds. They seemed to trust him. I figured it was some secret program the CIA was conducting off the books or something.”
Simon shrugged in agreement, not flustered in the least by the conversation.
“And you said you worked together?” Jason’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t mention any CIA involvement in Maine.”
“Because it was complicated.” Olive looked at Simon, who listened carefully. “He was undercover, investigating connections between Anton Karakov and the home for troubled teens.”
“Which brings us to why I’m here.” Simon spoke for the first time since they’d entered the room. His voice was calm, measured, the tone of someone used to delivering difficult information.
“What are you doing here, Simon?” Olive asked. “I’ve been trying to reach you for two days.”
“I know. I was waiting for a good time to talk.” Simon’s eyes moved between them. “I couldn’t show my face earlier—too many people were watching and too many variables in play. But I’ve been working behind the scenes.”
“In Florida?” Olive asked. “I saw you at the hospital.”
Simon nodded. “I’ve been tracking a large criminal enterprise for the past year. Financial crimes, money laundering, identity fraud. The investigation led me to Lloyd Stewart.”
Jason’s jaw tightened. “What do you know about my father’s potential involvement?”
“Maybe nothing directly. But at one point his medical practice was a crucial hub for their operations—falsified documents, fraudulent insurance claims, laundering money through legitimate-looking transactions.” Simon pulled out a tablet and showed them a complex diagram filled with names and connections.
“This organization has been operating for over a decade. It’s sophisticated, well-funded, and extremely dangerous. ”
“Who’s running it?” Part of Olive already suspected the answer would be painful.
“That’s where this gets complicated.” Simon’s expression grew more serious. “The organization appears to be headed up by someone you know, Olive.”
Her breath caught. “My father?”
“Your father was involved until the time of his death,” Simon said carefully. “But he wasn’t the founder. And he wasn’t the one in charge when your family was murdered.”
“Then who . . . ?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this, Olive. But it was . . . your mother.”
The words hit Olive like a physical blow.
The room tilted around her, and Jason’s hand gripped hers, steadying her as she processed Simon’s words.
“That’s impossible.” Her voice sounded distant, like it came from someone else. “My mother was a victim. She was killed along with the rest of my family.”
Simon’s expression was gentle but unwavering. “I know this is difficult to hear. But the evidence suggests your mother was the actual head of the criminal organization your father worked for. She was the one making the decisions, running the operations.”
“You’re wrong.” Olive stood and paced to the window, her head suddenly starting to pound. “My mother was gentle and loving. She protected us when my father put us in the line of fire.”
“You never wondered if she might be the one actually manipulating you?” Simon asked quietly.
Olive turned back to face him, anger flashing in her eyes. “Don’t you dare twist my memories into something sinister.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you, Olive. I’m trying to prepare you for what kind of answers you might find.”