Page 48 of Blind Trust
“Oh.” She stepped out with Nicolás shadowing her. “The shooting probably has me imagining things.” Lyla exhaled at Nicolás’s silence and pulled the door shut. This was silly. After a beat, she opened the door and stepped in and looked around. “See, it’s—”
Lyla spun to her left to the alarm panel that was silent.
“The alarm. It wasn’t set.”
Nicolás walked past her to the alarm panel. “It’s working. Do you remember if you or your parents set it when you left?”
“I don’t remember.” She touched her head. While her helmet had done its job, her brain was still aching. “I don’t think my parents ever leave the house without setting the alarm. Even if they forget to do it on the panel, they can activate it with their phones.” She surveyed the living room again. Her mother’s taste was simple, the décor focused on a few select pieces of art. A few were quite valuable, but nothing was out of place. “We were running late this morning. Maybe they forgot.”
“Is it okay if I go with you to your room?”
To her room? Her childhood bedroom that still had posters of teenage crushes, her stuffed otter sitting on her bed? Had she left her pajamas on the floor? Made her bed? It looked the same as it did when she was a teenager. What would Nicolás think when he saw it?
“As a precaution, Lyla.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
On the way up, Lyla prayed silently that the most embarrassing thing Nicolás would find in her room would be her obsession with Justin Timberlake. She held her breath when she pushed open her door.
And then the blood drained from her face. She didn’t need to worry about what Nicolás thought of her boy-band crushes,because he’d be too distracted by the torn pillows, overthrown drawers, ripped mattress, and pain from her fingertips digging into his arm.
“Nicolás.”
“Lyla, call the police.”
16
A few hours later, the team was back in DC at their office and Nic was staring at the list of a dozen or so names Jack had written down on the acrylic board. Lyla was surprisingly calm, but his anger hadn’t stopped burning since the second he realized someone had broken into the Fox family home and ransacked Lyla’s bedroom.
After a thorough search, neither the police nor Lyla’s parents found anything else disturbed or stolen. Nic knew there were plenty of valuable items that easily could have been taken.
Except one.
Nic glanced at Lyla and saw the dark circles beneath her eyes. Her normally bright complexion had dulled from the fear she was trying to hide.
“Sis, I’m glad we’re on the same team.” Kekoa stared up at the list. “I think I’d rather face a barracuda than you.”
“Funny, brah.” Lyla playfully kicked Kekoa’s chair. “I admit not everyone loves me, but I assure you that everyone is dealing with the consequences they deserve. Some of these people might want me hurt, but I can’t think of a single reason why anyone would come to my parents’ home and destroy my room when I’m not there.” She tugged at the hem of the pale blue sweater that normally made the blue in her eyes sparkle.But not today. “What do you think, Nicolás?”
Nic squeezed the brim of his ball cap, thankful he’d been ableto shed the stuffy riding attire for the extra set of clothes he kept at the office. Jack, Kekoa, and Lyla had done the same, making a clear distinction between their lives outside the agency and their work within.
Which made her question to him all the more unusual. Nic wasn’t used to Lyla asking for his opinion without first stating what his opinion ought to be, but he’d sensed something had shifted in her after they left her parents’ home. “It looked like someone was looking for something. Since nothing of value was stolen, my gut is telling me we need to consider that it can’t be coincidence that the day after Genevieve gives you a flash drive, you’re shot at and your parents’ home is broken into.”
“But the only thing on it was an old article and a virus,” Lyla grumbled. “Last time I checked, most people aren’t anxious to catch a virus or read the news.”
Lyla’s sarcasm nearly brought a smile to his lips. “So maybe something else was on the flash drive.”
They all looked at Kekoa, who shook his head, curls bouncing. “Brah, that flash drive was too corrupt to pull anything from. However, in my infinite wisdom, I did pull up every article I could find on anyone named Ammar El-Din, and let me tell you that name isn’t as unique as you think it is.”
The screens overhead lit up with dozens of articles in various languages, including several photos of different men, but then Kekoa began to type and soon the images shifted to several articles still in different languages but all with photos of the same man.
“This is Ammar El-Din, thirty-seven. He was arrested at Istanbul Airport two years ago with a forged passport and a double-layered suitcase he used to regularly smuggle fake money in and out of the country. He was convicted of running a major counterfeiting network in Lebanon, and his arrest led to ten additional arrests, the discovery of three printing houses, and billions of bogus US dollars, deutsche marks, Saudi riyals, and French francs that had been circulating since the nineties.”
Jack folded his arms. “Any connection to Jerry or Zane Investments?”
“Here’s where it gets interesting.” Kekoa pulled up a magazine cover. “This was published in an online magazine calledUYB, which stands for Use Your Brain. They focus on stories that range from the satirical to the conspiratorial, with the occasional piece that has caused some in the intelligence world to be highly concerned.”
“Concerned about what?”
