Page 64 of Honey Cut
“Bad memories,” he replies, looking back at me with a small tip to his lips.
“Ofwhat?”
“Of listening to opera music,” he says, and I can’t help but smile back at him.
“And here we thought you were secretly Bruce Wayne,” Goran says.
“I bring up the death because there have been two other high-profile poisonings in the last two weeks,” Nat says. She taps the handout everyone has in their folder. “One in Vancouver, a movie producer. And then another in Tokyo, a low-level politician.”
“Different places, different spheres of influence,” Andrea says slowly, skimming the handout. “Other than poisoning, there isn’t much else in common between them. The producer died on set, and then the politician was found on the street outside his girlfriend’s apartment.”
“Poisoning is a tactic of a few different foreign powers,” says Nat. “There might be connections we can’t see from DC.”
“Or it could be a serial killer.” That’s Goran’s contribution.
Nat gives him a look in theI love you but shut upcategory. “You’ve been listening to true crime podcasts in the security room for the last four months. You think everything is a serial killer now.”
“Can you prove that it isn’t?”
“What’s this about the night of Drobny’s attack?” Andrea interrupts. She’s flipped to a different paper now. “I already have to deal with Lox coming out here to check some hardware issue with a door. Is there more that she needs to be looking at?”
Mark becomes alert underneath me, the ever-so-subtle shift of his thighs and shoulders. Across the table, Tristan shifts as well. I know he took it as a personal failure that Mark was stabbed that night.
Goran looks nervous. “Actually, it’s the opposite of…that. We already asked Lox to do a postmortem of the facial scanners and security software—the stuff that should have caught any uninvited guests either during background checks or upon entry. And she found that everything worked as it should have, except…”
“Except?” Mark prompts.
“There were some manual entries during the background checks,” Nat cuts in. Bravely, I think, given the coldness currently seeping from my husband into the room. “Someone intentionally inserted the fake identities of the attackers into our system.”
“Someone who had access to our system, you mean.”
Nat winces. “Yes, sir.”
“And is there any way to find out who that was?”
Another wince. “It’s the computer that our extra security staff uses. Guest logins only.”
“So you think it was the freelance security?”
“We’re looking into it now,” Nat assures him. “The good news is that the FBI hasfinallyshared their report with us, after a little persuasion. As you suspected, sir, the attackers were hired muscle—some Czech former military, some petty criminals who’ve made a career out of being violent for pay. They’ve all been identified now.”
“Any surprises in there?” Mark asks.
Nat shakes her head. “No connections to anybody we know other than Drobny, and the FBI hasn’t made any connections of their own.”
“They wouldn’t,” mutters Mark.
“Do you know why they attacked the club?” I ask. “Why this person tried to kill you?”
Mark lifts a hand dismissively. “I probably killed his cousin’s best friend’s?—”
“—brother-in-law,” the table finishes for him, including Tristan.
Mark rewards them with an amused look.
“Actually,” Goran says, “there was something else. Not a person—I mean, I think it’s not a person. But still a name.”
“Oh?” prompts Mark.
