Shaking her head, she wandered over to the big window overlooking the harbor. “We were supposed to meet at the White House last night. He had some information to share with me regarding the Phoenix.”

“The Phoenix? Isn’t he some legendary spymaster?”

“Was. Past tense.”

“There are some who say he isn’t dead.”

“I was at Langley when the Phoenix was active. Trust me when I tell you the spymaster is no more.” She headed back to her desk. “There’s a rumor circulating that a manifest of all the operatives who served under the Phoenix exists, however. And it’s for sale.”

“That would be devastating if it fell into the wrong hands.”

“Yes.” The secretary massaged her brow. “Except I have my doubts such a list even exists. There were only seventeen agents being handled by the Phoenix. More than half were from other intelligence agencies in allied countries. Only the Phoenix knew all seventeen names.”

“Then someone’s selling false information? Why?”

“If we find the who, we’ll discover the why.”

“And you think whoever this is may have killed our Russian?”

She sighed wearily. “I think there is enough interest in the Phoenix to warrant chasing down that lead. I’ve stalled the NSA director’s demands for VOYEUR for now. I want you to work your magic with it, the dark web, and whatever else you need to dig up any intel on those individuals most impacted by the Phoenix Project. Start with Vladmir Ronoff. He laundered two billion dollars of rubles into dollars before the Phoenix caught him. The Russian president recently pardoned him. Ronoff would have a big axe to grind against the World Bank and the Phoenix.”

Ben stilled at the mention of Ronoff. “He wouldn’t happen to be related to Alexi Ronoff, would he?”

“Alexi is his son. And, yes, I saw his name on last night’s guest list. It’s too strong of a coincidence if you ask me.” Secretary Lyle eyed him carefully. “Make sure your search takes place off the grid. Until we know who’s out there selling classified intel, I don’t want to share my theories with the rest of the intelligence community.”

“Understood.” The familiar adrenaline rush that always preceded the hunt surged through him. Solving puzzles was his jam. Working to hide his trail would only make the hunt sweeter. And he had just the place to carry out his mission. “I’ll get right on this.”

He shoved the micro card back into his pocket before tucking the folder beneath his arm and heading for the door.

“Agent Segar,” she called after him. “Keep me in the loop.”

As he made his way out of the secretary’s office, his fingers were already itching to get to a keyboard. The assignment would certainly take his mind off solving the mystery of Quinn Darby’s reappearance. Except for the fact that she was somehow involved with Alexi Ronoff. That particular piece of intel fired up a burning sensation deep within his gut.

Adjusting his sunglasses, he strolled out into the bright sunshine and hailed a cab. He gave the driver the address for the marina where his sailboat was docked. No sense wasting time heading home to change. He had clothes aboard the Seas the Day and more at his secure cyber getaway he’d dubbed the Think Tank. The sooner he solved this puzzle, the better. He told himself his eagerness was because he wanted to solve a murder. Not because we wanted to have an excuse to delve deeper into the mystery of Quinn Darby.

CHAPTER 3

QUINN SAT IN the shaded corner of the marina’s deck, sipping her iced coffee. Hiding behind her sunglasses, she pretended to watch the gulls dive-bomb the trash cans along the small dock surrounding the restaurant when, in fact, her gaze was riveted several yards farther in the distance. Standing aboard an impressive sailboat docked in one of the slips closest to the marina, a sandy-haired, shirtless man was vigorously polishing the chrome railing.

The bronzed muscles in his back bunched and flexed seductively with every pass of the cloth.

She remembered those capable hands. Their warmth and their innate strength. So much like the careful, confident boy they belonged to. Except, as she’d discovered last night, he wasn’t a boy any longer. Ben Segar was all grown up. She sucked on a piece of ice to try to cool her body’s reaction to the sexy adult version of her high school lab partner.

It wasn’t working.

“Ah, I see you’ve spotted one of Watertown’s natural wonders.”

The waitress’s words startled Quinn.

“We probably should charge extra for the view when Ben’s in town,” the other woman remarked as she placed a crab salad on the table in front of Quinn. The waitress’s gaze lingered on Ben a bit longer than necessary before a soft sigh escaped her lips. “If only I was twenty years younger.”

“Does he come here often?”

Quinn was both relieved and surprised when she’d received the intel Ben had gone directly from the Department of Homeland to his sailboat still wearing his tuxedo. She’d been even more surprised to find out the destination of his morning sail was his hometown, Watertown, Maryland.

“His family owns this marina,” the waitress replied, not telling Quinn anything she didn’t already know. “He lives in DC, but he sails over for the weekend pretty regularly. Dotes on his mom. Kind of sweet, really.” She then drifted off to wait on another table.

Quinn wasn’t sure why she expected Ben to have left Watertown in his rearview mirror years ago. Or that he would be living in some exotic locale running his own billion-dollar company by now. Except he’d been a gifted kid with a brilliant mind. Unlike her, whose path had been set since the cradle, the world held endless possibilities for him.