Page 6 of The Twilight Theft

“Oh, and Mr. Donovan?” The assistant held up a watch. “Does this belong to you?”

“Yes, thank you.” I put down my glass and retrieved the watch, turning it over. Jayce hadn’t planted something inside it, had she? “I must’ve dropped it on my way in.”

“The cleaner returned it. She said she found it on the floor in here, and I knew it wasn’t Mr. Tremaine’s.”

“Thankfully, she found it before I left.” It had to have been when she grabbed my wrist.

Or when she tripped? No, given her skills, she hadn’t tripped at all. I revisited her movements. She hadn’t fumbled the cleaning fluid bottle. She’d thrown it.

As the assistant retreated, I did a quick pocket check. Keys still in my left. Wallet in my right.

Phone in my—

Shit.

She’d taken the watch when she grabbed my wrist and then taken my phone when she stumbled into me. How hadn’t I noticed?

Because you were too busy wrapping your arm around her slender waist. Holding her tight against yourself like the white knight you think you are, ensuring she was all right.

And she’d stolen my fucking phone in return.

“Drew.” Craig breezed into the room, patting my upper arm on his way by. CIA legend, my mentor, and my boss for the past two years. He was lean and roughly my height, with light brown hair highlighted with gray you could only see close-up. With sharp eyes that missed little, his easy smile hid many secrets.

I closed the door behind him, maintaining the most neutral expression I could manage. Would my phone be at the front desk? In my office? Dropped off at my apartment by courier?

“Gideon!” Craig crossed the room to our prospective client, and the two embraced, clapping each other on the back. “You two didn’t start without me, did you?”

“Of course not.” Gideon poured a glass for Craig and the three of us made our way to the sleek black leather couches at the far end of the office. He sat and leaned back, crossing his legs. “Drew, I’ve already given Craig a high-level summary of the project, but it’s fairly simple.”

Craig chuckled. “Maybe on your end it is.”

“I’m going into production with a new chip, designed as a permanent data storage and retrieval mechanism. Think of it as an archive for eternity. I won’t bore you with the technical details, but I’d consider this my legacy.”

“Tremaine Industries is a pretty good legacy all on its own.” I took a sip of my whiskey. The rich heat burned its way down my throat.

“That it is.” Gideon smiled, swirling his own drink. “Are you familiar with the seed vault in Norway?”

“Svalbard? The doomsday vault for seed genetics?”

“This chip will fill that role for the collective data of humankind.” Gideon sat forward, placing his glass on the table and leaning his elbows on his knees. “There are those who wish to see me fail. Not because the endeavor isn’t a noble one, but for the same reasons a segment of the population wants me to fail at anything. Because I’ve done government contracts. Because some believe my employees around the world aren’t all paid equitably. Maybe because I grew up poor and built a fortune on my own. The reason doesn’t matter. Whatdoesmatter is I’ve received several threats aimed at this data chip.”

“Which I’m sure you receive all the time?” I offered.

“True.” Gideon looked at Craig. The two of them had been friends for years, and Bishop and Associates had completed two jobs for Tremaine since I’d joined the firm. “I’ve increased security at my plants, but someone specifically threatened the unveiling event.”

Craig sat forward, mirroring Gideon’s pose, but looking at me. “Tremaine Industries is throwing a charity gala next weekend and the messages Gideon showed me indicate that will be the place and time.”

Why steal it during a charity event, where security will be high and it will be surrounded by people? “You suspect it’s about you, not about the chip itself?”

Craig tapped the side of his nose and pointed at me. “Precisely.”

If my boss knew so much, why bother with the meeting? Why not tell us this was our next job? For that matter, why call our team in at all? “I assume you already have security in place for the event. I further assume you won’t cancel for exactly the reason they’re targeting the event: You don’t want to risk your reputation.”

“Yes, on both counts.” Gideon stood, heading for his desk.

Was there something I knew? Something from my past that tied me to this event? Some reason Craig would bring me here? “Do you think your son’s mistress has something to do with it?”

Gideon chuckled as he returned to the couch with a thumb drive.

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