Page 31 of Crosscurrent

After a minute, Owen sat back. "The first section is a list. Names, locations, amounts. I can only read the first few entries right now. I need to work through the anchor key for the rest." He looked up. "But the first entry is a grant. The recipient is in Haven Cove." He paused. "The date is four years ago."

Cara looked at Gabe. Gabe looked at Tom.

Tom was already pulling up a window on the rig. "The same year the Coastal Heritage Trust made its largest single grant disbursement to any recipient in their history."

He pointed at the screen. Haven Cove, Oregon. $23 million.

Tom was already pulling more windows. “The list of projects includes some harbor renovation, a trail system extension north of the marina and a local advisory board endowment.”

Wade’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing’s been touched in that harbor in decades.”

“Yeah,” Tom said. “How about that? There’s no new trail, either.” He looked up. “CHT isn’t adjacent to Neptune. It’s a laundry. Criminal proceeds in, cultural grants out. Small towns, legitimate-looking disbursements — nobody looks twice at a preservation foundation.”

Reagan set down her mug. “Haven Cove isn’t neutral ground. It never was.”

“This isn’t something the Brotherhood would have trusted that idiot Hale to handle. He probably didn’t even know about it. Neptune goes a lot deeper here for sure.” Wade said what everyone was thinking.

“Possibly several somebodies. Four years of runway, institutional cover, and legitimate access to local decisions.” Tom set his hands flat on the table.

Gabe said it first. “Then why hasn’t Skye been touched?”

Everyone looked at her.

Skye drifted over toward Owen’s seat and eyed the notebook.

“Two possibilities,” Tom said quietly. “Either Ray was right. The last place Neptune looks for a missing witness is in their own backyard. The cover held.” He paused. “Or they’ve known where she was for some time. And they haven’t made a move because they’re waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Reagan asked.

Tom turned the monitor so the room could see Owen’s notebook, still open on the table. “For whoever Ray sent the cipher to. For the list. For everything in this notebook to surface.”

Reagan caught Skye’s gaze. “They didn’t want to touch you until they could follow you to the cipher.”

“Agreed.” Skye shrugged. “Or be certain I had no idea where it was.”

Owen tapped the notebook, clearly thinking.

“Ray chose Haven Cove deliberately,” Skye said. “He put it in the cipher. He knew. That still doesn’t clue us in to Neptune’s strategy. Whether they knew I was here already or not, they do now. They’ll come for the cipher.”

Cara watched the room process it. Reagan, standing very still with her marker uncapped. Wade, who had gone expressionless in the way that meant he was already ahead of the rest of them. Owen, who didn't know yet what Haven Cove meant and was watching the room's reaction with the careful attention of a man trying to understand what he'd just unlocked.

Skye leaned over Owen, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched, reading the notebook page he'd left open on the table. She didn't seem to notice the proximity. Owen did, but he didn't move away.

Owen, who had been quiet for most of the past two minutes — running another translation pass under his breath — straightened slightly. "While we're talking timelines, I need to flag something. I'm scheduled to present a paper at the Nordhavn Colloquium in Svalbard in two weeks. It’s a big deal. I can’t miss it. As long as whatever we end up doing can wrap before then, I'm available without restriction."

"What’s your paper about?" Skye asked, without looking away from the notebook.

Owen cleared his throat. "Medieval ecclesiastical transit through the Baltic trade corridor. Eleven eighty-seven to twelve fourteen."

“For real?” Skye gaped at him. "That sounds boring."

For a second, Owen looked like he was going to mount a counter argument, but wisely refrained. "It is."

Reagan nodded in agreement. Wade’s eyes simply glazed over, while Gabe turned away, obviously hiding a grin.

Tom snorted into his coffee. Owen went faintly pink and returned his attention to the page.

Cara gave a mental shrug. Owen, and Skye, should be well on their way long before he had to catch a plane to… wherever Svalbard was.