Not wanting to call any suspicion to herself by working too late, she crossed to the supply cupboard for a thumb drive so she could transfer a copy of the suspicious files. Then her job would be done and Jake and the FBI could takeover.
She wouldn’t gloat, she decided, as she began copying files. The wordsI told you sowould not pass her lips. Instead, she’d be coolly professional. Cyn the Bold reporting in—mission accomplished. Well, maybe she’d polish up her mother’s sterling tray so she could literally deliver the goods on a silverplatter.
She copied files as quickly as she could. The outer offices were hushed, and now that she was filling her bag full of incriminating evidence, she wanted to get the hell out of Dodge as fast aspossible.
“Come on, come on,” she encouraged the computer, as though she could make it copy the filesfaster.
She glanced at her watch. Almost six. It would look strange if she didn’t leave soon. Almost there. She was almostthere…
Done. She dropped the thumb drive in her bag and sighed withrelief.
A knock sounded on her open door and she jerked her head up to see Neville, a bland smile on hisface.
“Hi, Neville,” she said brightly, while panic seized her chest. With a jerky mouse click, she pulled up her month-end file to cover the incriminating evidence of hersnooping.
“You’re working late, my dear.” He stated the obvious, movingcloser.
“Just finishing up a few things for month end,” she chirped, standing and turning to face him so her body shielded thescreen.
He came even closer and toyed with a pencil on the corner of her desk. “Agnes had a word with me before sheleft.”
“Agnes?”
“Yes.” His face flushed slightly. “She said you’d beencrying.”
“Of course I haven’t been crying.” Not for hours, anyway; she’d been too caught up spying to even think about Jake’sdefection.
“Your eyes are rather puffy, and a bit red,” he pointedout.
“That’s just, uh, allergies,” she managed tomurmur.
He dropped his gaze. “Agnes was under the impression that I hurt your feelings by leaving the othernight.”
Oh, Agnes, you didn’t.“No. No, of course not. Agnes must have made amistake.”
There was a pause. And when he spoke again his tone had changed so completely, he didn’t even sound like the same man. “She wasn’t the only one who made a mistake.” Neville’s voice was cold aslead.
She turned to him in surprise and found him staring at the notepad on her desk—the one she’d used to jot down the most incriminating pieces of information from Harrison’sfile.
“Neville, that’s not—” She reached for the pad of paper, but his hand slapped down on it so hard she felt the impact quiver through herpalm.
“I think you’ve made a very big mistake, mydear.”
She heard voices from the hall, voices she recognized. Eddie from shipping, and Doug Ormond. Maybe they could help her? Even as she thought it, Neville strode to the door to call themin.
While his back was turned, she grabbed the phone and frantically punched in Jake’s emergency number, her fingertips slipping withsweat.
“Put down the phone, Cynthia,” Neville said in that same cold, inhumantone.
She glanced over her shoulder. The man she’d once thought so harmless and pleasant had a gun trained on her back. He was flanked on either side by Eddie and Doug Ormond, all three looking grim andmurderous.
She put down thephone.
