Page 89 of The Hitman’s Final Job

“What?”

He takes a breath. “Remember when I said earlier that I had something to tell you?”

I nod. “I wondered if it had anything to do with your job. I was hoping … you were going to say you were staying in Pine Ridge.”

He smiles ruefully, his hands still on my face. His brown eyes, so dark they’re almost black, are on mine, and something tells me I have this all wrong.

“I want to stay in Pine Ridge. More than anything. If I can find a way, I will. But … ”

“But what?”

“But once I tell you what I have to tell you, you might not want me here.”

The waiting room is very quiet. “Okay?”

“I want to ask you something first,” he says. “Do you think HelixGen is behind this?”

Why would he ask that? As far as he’s concerned, this should be a random shooting. Why does he think it’s not?

“Why are you asking about HelixGen?”

“Before I tell you, I need to know what you know. About the threat. All of it. Everything you’ve found out.”

“I received a package at the lab,” I say. “About three weeks ago. It started the same way the others had: acquisition offers, legal threats, the usual corporate pressure to sell or share the research. I’ve been getting versions of that for two years, but this one had photographs.”

Silas doesn’t move a muscle.

“Someone followed me in Warsaw,” I say. “During the conference. There were photographs. One from the lecture, taken from the back of the conference hall. One from the restaurant at the hotel with Seth and me at the table before you got there.”

Silas drops his hands from my face, takes a few steps back, and paces the room.

“That’s when I went to Atlas,” I continue. “His friend Jordan is … well, he has ways of finding information, so I asked Atlas to ask Jordan to look into it. Jordan found something.”

“Tell me what he found.”

“The legal threats came from a firm called Hargrove and Associates,” I say. “Jordan traced them through a chain of shell companies. Hargrove is retained by a company called Meridian Legal Solutions. Meridian is owned by Apex Agricultural Holdings. Apex is a subsidiary of Vertex Holdings.” I shrug. “Nothing to do with HelixGen. A completely separate corporation with agricultural land acquisition interests across twelve states.”

Silas closes his eyes briefly.

“Jordan documented the whole chain. That’s when I went to Dale Briggs, the sheriff. I showed him the package and Jordan’s documentation. He said he’d make some inquiries. Increase patrols. He couldn’t act formally without a named individual, but he took it seriously.”

Silas’s nod is slow, thoughtful.

“And then,” I say, “on the first day of the festival, do you remember when I went to get a glass of water from the kitchen?”

He nods.

“There was a photograph by the back door. This time it was one of us at that small restaurant in Warsaw on the same night. On the back it said, ‘You have been warned repeatedly. This is the last warning.’”

“Fuck,” he says, running his hands through his hair. “We were looking in the wrong place all this time.”

“What do you mean?”

His expression is pained. “I saw someone at the festival days ago. He seemed suspicious, but I dismissed it because he was with a woman and two kids. I thought he was a tourist. I increased vigilance at the house and then found tire tracks that were different from the cars I’ve seen on your land.”

“You knew there was a threat?” I’m dizzy with a rush of thoughts. How did he know? How does Silas know? This friend of my son’s and the love of my life—who is he?

He takes a breath. “Vaughn,” he says. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to hear all of it before you respond. Can you do that?”