Page 27 of Winter’s Heart (Three of Hearts #1)

“I can’t be sure,” Jacob admitted. “But I can’t see what they would gain from any of this.

The FBI is just a tool for the government.

They’re supposed to handle federal issues and protect national security, so I’m uncertain why they would want to interfere in an international court case, unless this has something to do with a transnational crime, or criminal gang.

And while they run plenty of intelligence-gathering operations both inside and outside of the US, they’re most often connected with counter-terrorism, and I can’t see that a Chinese-run fish farm in Norway could be associated with violent extremism. Can you?”

“Not really.” Unless there was something they were missing, this was more about corporate greed than any sort of terrorism.

Which brought them back to the same question.

“What is to be gained by the US government—or perhaps even a single entity within that government—if this court case doesn’t go through?

” she asked thoughtfully. “And how could this all be linked to Diàoyú?”

“Hmm,” Jacob mused. “Someone with influence over the FBI is using them to achieve a certain agenda; that much is for sure. Is there a corrupt government official on the inside driving this, or is an outside entity putting pressure on someone internally? Like a high-up Chinese official, for instance,” he said, running a hand over his perplexed brow.

“One thing is for sure, when this much money is at stake, people will do just about anything.”

Which brought them back to square one? They had absolutely no idea why anyone would want to stop her from attending the court case.

Back in Sweden, they’d been pretty sure the men trying to kill her were hired by Diàoyú.

But now that she was back in America, things became a lot more complicated, and it was no longer as simple as her being hunted by hitmen.

The FBI were supposed to be protecting her, which technically, they were doing, but they were also using that protection as a facade to thwart her attempts to tell the truth about her research in Norway.

There had to be a link to Diàoyú somewhere in all this tangled knot of lies and deception, but where the hell were they even meant to start?

She threw up her hands in frustration. “Ugh, this is impossible.”

Jacob grabbed her hand and threaded his fingers between hers. “I know. We may never discern the motives of whomever is trying to hinder you. So, I think we need to stop attempting to figure it out and ask a better question. Which is, is there any way we might get you out of her so you can testify?”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. What was he thinking?

“How can we hope to break out of here with four trained agents watching us? Listening to everything we say? We can’t even contact anyone on the outside for help, so we’re completely on our own.

I don’t have access to my notes because they have my computer, so I can’t write up any evidence.

And even if I did, what would be the point?

I need to submit all my written proof at least a week before the trial, which is only two days away.

And then, how the hell am I going to get all the way back to Norway?

Are we going to just hijack an airplane?

” Her voice took on a high-pitched squeak.

The only thing stopping her from shouting in aggravation was Jacob’s continued connection as he squeezed her hand and the thought that the FBI might overhear her.

“It’s all so bloody frustrating,” she finished in a hissed whisper.

“Frustrating, yes. But if we don’t at least try, then they’ve already won.” His gaze was clear and sure, filled with determination. A determination she wasn’t feeling.

“You’re right.” Her shoulders sagged, and she dropped her head. “But where do we even start?”

“How about with contact with the outside world?” Jacob said thoughtfully. “Specifically, communication with your boss. Didn’t you say you’d emailed him the raw data?”

“Yes.” Nikki lifted her chin from her chest. “But how?”

“Do you have anything in this house that we could use to send a message? I’m assuming they’ve already searched this place for all electronic devices, but if you had something you kept hidden… Do you keep any of your old cell phones, perhaps?”

Nikki stood up, dropping his hand so she could cover her mouth to stop a squeak of delight from escaping.

Why hadn’t she thought of that? She was a hoarder when it came to outdated phones; she’d even kept her old Nokia, the first cell she’d ever owned, God knew why.

There was a box full of all sorts of old technology, cables and cords and all those other things she knew she’d never use again but couldn’t force herself to throw out.

“Come with me.” She dragged him out the door and down the hallway, hoping and praying they hadn’t found her stash.

But when she stood on tiptoe so she could feel along the top shelf of the bookshelf in her office for the old shoebox that was always there, it was gone.

Those bastards. Jacob had been right; they must’ve rifled through her house.

The idea of a bunch of agents searching every inch of this building, hunting through every drawer—God, had they even searched her underwear drawer?

—made her mad as hell. Even if she’d found a phone, none of them may have worked anyway, but that wasn’t the point.

“It’s gone,” she whispered, wrinkling her nose in unhappiness, wanting to stamp her foot like a petulant child. How dare they go through her house, through all her belongings?

“Hmm, I thought as much,” Jacob replied, his lips close to her ear. He looked as defeated as she felt. “You’ve got nothing else? An old computer or an iPad?” he asked, his voice so low she could barely make out what he was saying.

Nikki began to shake her head, but stopped as an idea struck.

Her ancient iPad. She hadn’t used it in years.

Was there a chance they’d missed it? She refocused her mind on the large bookshelf that covered one wall of her office.

It was stuffed full of books, mainly textbooks, but she was also an avid reader, and there were rows and rows of fiction, as well as biographies and even a stack of National Geographic magazines.

Someone had searched through the bookshelf because they hadn’t tried to hide the fingerprint marks they’d left in the dust on each shelf—she’d never been great at doing housework, and dusting was very low on her list of priorities.

Unerringly, she ran her finger down the spines of the works of fiction on the second lowest shelf, until she stopped at one that was thinner than most. She held back a shriek of triumph.

It was still there; they hadn’t found it because she kept it in a cute little cover that was made to look like a book.

With a grin of delight, she withdrew the iPad and waved it over her head in a silent, joyous dance, then tucked it under her arm when she remembered they might have video surveillance in the room.

She wanted to shout that those bloody FBI agents weren’t as smart as they thought they were, but she held it in.

Just. Jacob grinned from ear to ear when he saw it, and pulled her in for a big, bear hug.

Now they just had to pray that it still worked.