Page 63 of The Hitman’s Final Job

He steals from my plate, and I let him.

“You’re going to be late,” he says eventually.

“I know.” But I don’t move. Instead, I pull him onto my lap and kiss him. He kisses me back with both hands on my face, and it takes considerably longer than it should for me to actually leave.

“Go,” he says against my mouth.

“Going.”

“Vaughn.”

“Going,” I say, and go. Very reluctantly.

The lab is its usual morning self. I say good morning to everyone and go to my office, where I close the door and sit at my desk.

Silas has occupied every single one of my thoughts and actions for the last twelve hours, but I haven’t forgotten the thumb drive Atlas gave me.

I plug it into my computer and open the files.

Jordan’s documentation is thorough. I already knew that from the research on HelixGen he did for us, but this is different.

The corporate chain is clear.

Hargrove & Associates, the law firm that sent the cease and desist, is retained by a company called Meridian Legal Solutions LLC. Meridian is owned by Apex Agricultural Holdings. Apex is a wholly owned subsidiary of Vertex Holdings.

Three layers. Three shell companies between the law firm threatening me and the multinational corporation that owns it all.

I read it twice before going into the second section.

Vertex Holdings has agricultural land acquisition operations across twelve states. Its strategy is documented in internal communications Jordan has somehow accessed. The acquisition of undervalued farmland, the suppression of research that would increase land values, the pattern of targeting scientists and researchers whose work threatens their acquisition model.

There are names of two other scientists. One in Oregon and one in Minnesota. Both received similar legal threats. Both went quiet in the eighteen months before my threats began. Jordan has flagged their names with a note: Status unknown. Investigating.

I sit back in my chair and look at the photos again. These people have the resources to place surveillance on me in Poland and deliver the evidence to my farm in Colorado.

This clears HelixGen. It doesn’t seem like there’s a connection to this threat. This is also no longer something I can ignore or try to figure out myself.

I pick up my phone and call the sheriff’s office.

Sheriff Dale Briggs, who happens to be Clayton’s brother, arrives at the lab at two in the afternoon. He’s in his sixties, broad-shouldered, and has that sort of face to him that inspires trust from the community but you wouldn’t dare to be on the wrong side of the law.

I show him everything. He takes his time leafing through the file and the photos as well as Jordan’s information. After a good while, he sits back on his chair and scratches his head.

“Here’s where we are,” he says. “The package delivered to your lab, that’s harassment. The fact that someone surveilled you in Warsaw and then sent those photographs to your workplace tells me this is organized and resourced.” He taps the photograph of me at the conference. “Taking photographs of someone at an event is not unusual, and using those photographs to intimidate them is an escalation.”

“But?”

“But I need a named individual making an explicit threat before I can act formally.” He looks at the email printout. “This has been carefully written to stay just inside the legal line. ‘A friendly warning before this becomes unfriendly’ is menacing. A good lawyer would argue it’s a figure of speech.” He pauses. “And the shell company structure you’ve shown me as well as your friend’s research, unless it was obtained legally, I can’t use it.”

I shake my head. “What can you do?”

“I can open a file,” he says. “Which I’m doing today. I can make some inquiries. Sometimes that’s enough to make them reconsider. I can also contact the law firm and make it known that their correspondence has come to my attention. I can’t compel them to reveal their client because of attorney-client privilege, but the inquiry puts them on notice.”

He leans forward slightly.

“I also want to increase patrols past your property,” he says. “Regular drive-bys. Morning and evening. Nothing dramatic, but enough to establish a visible presence.” He sits back. “And I want you to vary your routines. Don’t be predictable about when you’re at the lab and when you’re at the house. Don’t be alone on the property if you can help it.”

“I have a guest staying,” I say.