Greyson swallowed his mouthful of food and wiped his mouth.
“Before we start working, we gotta talk.”
Uh, they were.
“About?” Gene asked.
Greyson told them.
“I borrowed the CIA laptop,” he said. “I wanted to run someone.”
That had their attention.
“Who?” Gene asked.
He whispered her name.
“Sasha.”
ThatREALLYhad their attention now. That he was whispering it was hella wild.
“What did you find?” he asked, knowing they were going to start dealing with her sooner or later.
Greyson told them.
“She doesn’t exist.”
That surprised them.
“What?” Gene asked. “Did you just say she doesn’t exist?” he asked.
Greyson nodded.
“Yeah, she doesn’t exist. There is no her on the records inSeattle. I even looked her up at her college. She didn’t go to the school on her diplomas. When I ran her name, this is what I found.”
He slid the printed-out obituary toward them.
“And this is her home address,” he added, showing them the plot of uninhabited land.
The two men were befuddled.
“There has to be a mistake,” Gene said. “She’s an ME for the FBI. She has to exist somewhere.”
Only, she didn’t.
“I ran the US vital statistics, and the only person I found with the same name is that woman who died. I can’t get into the payroll to get her Social Security number. If I could, I would have run that.”
Ethan was grateful that laptop was CIA or Gabe would be all over them for digging.
“And not even the college?” he asked.
Greyson shook his head.
“According to the school, she never graduated because she never existed in Washington. There’s no record of her. She’s not who she says she is.”
Holy shit.
“But she’s got to be a Fed. Gabe sent her here. He has her spying on us, and she does a mean autopsy,” Gene admitted.
