Chapter Two
The walk to Vincent'shouse took less than two minutes, but Yvette felt like she was crossing into another world. She clutched her overnight bag and tried not to think about the fact that she was moving in with a man she'd spent a month convinced was a criminal.
His front door looked ordinary from the outside, but the moment he disarmed what appeared to be a military-grade security system, Yvette realized appearances were deceiving. The entry hall featured reinforced steel beneath decorative wood paneling. She counted three different types of motion sensors before they'd even made it to the living room.
"Guest bedroom's upstairs," he said, leading her past a kitchen where a tactical vest hung over one of the chairs like it belonged there. "Private bathroom, decent view of the backyard."
Right. Because nothing said normalcy like the assault rifle propped against the breakfast bar and the collection of knives displayed on the counter like some people displayed fruit.
The guest bedroom was actually nice. Clean sheets, neutral colors, windows that overlooked his surprisingly normal backyard. If Yvette ignored the reinforced glass and the fact that the windows didn't actually open, it could have been any guest room in suburbia.
"I need to call my supervisor," she said, setting her bag on the bed. "Let him know what happened and get him the files."
He nodded. "Landline's more secure than your cell. I'll be downstairs."
Yvette waited until he left before dialing her boss's direct number. James Morrison answered on the second ring, sounding like she'd woken him from deep sleep.
"Yvette? It's three-thirty in the morning. What—"
"Someone tried to kill me tonight, James. They broke into my house looking for the RareCore files."
"Are you safe? Where are you?"
"I'm safe. My neighbor's a former Marine. I'm with him." She hoped he wouldn't ask for details. "I need to send you everything I have on RareCore immediately. All the financial records, the shell company documentation, everything."
"Absolutely. Send it all. We'll get federal protection arranged and—"
"I'm already sending it." Yvette enabled the multiple security protocols she'd designed to ensure data integrity during transmission. The upload included not just the raw financial data, but the predictive algorithms she'd developed and the network mapping software that had traced RareCore's entire operational structure. "There. It's done, complete with my custom analysis tools so other investigators can continue the digital forensics work."
"You realize this means your investigation was even more damaging than we thought. If RareCore was willing to commit murder—"
"They failed. The evidence is safe, the case is in federal hands now, and I'm protected until official channels kick in." Yvette watched the upload complete with satisfaction. "They have no reason to come after me anymore."
"I hope you're right. Stay where you are. I'll have federal investigators contact you directly in the morning."
After she hung up, Yvette sagged in relief. The files were secure, her supervisor knew everything, and federal investigators would have the case by dawn. RareCore's executives might be facing prison time, but they were smart enough to know that killing a federal witness would only make things worse.
The threat was over. Yvette had spent fifteen years developing the digital investigation techniques that had exposed RareCore's conspiracy. Her reputation at DCAA wasn't just for thoroughness. It was for seeing patterns in financial data that others missed, for developing custom software that could penetrate corporate obfuscation networks, for being the forensic accountant they called when conventional methods failed.
She made her way downstairs to find Vincent in what appeared to be a home office, multiple monitors displaying what looked like security camera feeds from around his property. He glanced up when she entered.
