had control over the man—or woman—and was blackmailing him or her in some way.
The motive didn’t really matter to Cain in terms of justifying why the traitor was behaving the way he was, but understanding motive always provided information in an unknown suspect.
Cain sat in a private conference room attached to Steve Drackett’s office. It was one of the few places Steve had assured him there was no way the mole could have any type of surveillance devices.
While Cain trusted Steve completely, he wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Cain had his own countersurveillance device that allowed him to know for certain that no one was recording or transmitting visual or audio data from this room.
Files of every employee—agent or not—of the Critical Response Division sat in groups on the large conference table. Cain had already been in this room for more than eight hours going through the files.
He had four distinct groups: cleared, unlikely, unknown and suspicious.
People like Steve Drackett, whom Cain had known for years and who had spent most of his life fighting people like Freihof, were in the cleared category. Other agents also, like the various members of the Omega SWAT team who had been injured or nearly killed by Freihof over the last few months. Employees who had joined Omega very recently were also cleared, as well as those who had no access to the type of information that had been given to Freihof.
But that still left a hell of a lot of people in the unlikely, unknown or suspicious categories.
Long-term operatives and agents were in the unlikely category. Cain rubbed the back of his neck as he walked around the table looking at the files. The thought of the culprit being a colleague who had been involved with Omega Sector for years churned like acid in his gut. He drowned those thoughts by taking a swig from his now-cold coffee mug, the only substance he’d had today. He wanted to move these agents to the cleared list, but he couldn’t.
Emotion had no place in solving crimes. No matter how much Cain wanted someone to be innocent, he knew firsthand that wasn’t always how things panned out.
He looked through all the unknown files again. People with a background in computers who would be able to get Freihof the information he wanted without being detected. The one thing they knew for sure was the traitor was highly skilled in computer usage.
But a number of people were skilled in that area. Even people who had jobs not involving computers or intel could still have the prowess needed to be the mole.
Cain picked up a file for John Carnell. The guy was a genius; his damn mind worked like a computer. Abrupt and sullen, he was often difficult to work with, but almost always the smartest person in the room.
Cain slid Carnell’s file from the unknown to the suspicious pile. There it joined half a dozen others. Two from people who had filed complaints with the head Omega office in Washington, DC, when they were bypassed for promotions—maybe one of them had an ax to grind and had become the mole. SWAT wannabe Saul Poniard’s file was also in the pile; he had such a perfect record that it bugged Cain.
And Lillian Muir, a member of the SWAT team. Cain didn’t like putting her name in the suspicious pile, especially since she’d been one of the people injured in an explosion a few days ago at Freihof’s last known place of residence. A wooden projectile had lodged itself in her shoulder. A painful but non-life-threatening injury.
But Cain could not deny that Lillian’s past—and how well hidden she’d kept it—made her a suspect. Someone who had gone to the lengths she had to hide her past was someone who had something to lose.
When Steve Drackett walked in the door, Cain slid Lillian’s file under another one. He knew Steve was too emotionally involved with his inner team to objectively consider the possibility that one of them was the traitor.
“How’s it going in here?” Steve asked.
“I’ll admit, I’d rather be out enjoying your beautiful Colorado mountains than stuck inside this windowless room.”
Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “I keep saying you need to transfer from the DC office out here. Quality-of-life clause.” Steve’s eyes flew to the screen where Cain had paused the recording of Grace Parker’s death.
Cain walked over and shut it off. Steve had seen the murder footage enough times; he didn’t need to see it again. Steve gestured toward the files on the table. “Any luck?”
“I have my theories. My categories of suspects. I have to be honest with you, Steve, it’s probably better if you just don’t even know who I’m really looking into.”
Cain wouldn’t tell him anyway, but he hoped the other man wouldn’t ask. Cain respected Steve, had known him for a lot of years. He didn’t want to let this drive a wedge—professional or personal—between them.
But he would if it meant catching the mole.
Steve rolled tense shoulders. “I don’t like it, I’ll be honest. But I like even less the thought of a traitor walking among us every day. Of more of my agents getting hurt or killed.”
“I know,” Cain said softly. “We’re going to get him, Steve. Get them. Freihof and whoever this mole is.”
“Do you have any particular direction you’re following?”
“Some. Based on profiling and what might be considered suspicious activities. Or even particular skill sets. But what’s really going to help me catch this person is the computer stuff.”
“That’s why you’re going to Hayley Green.”
He could still see the way she’d looked at him that day in the courtroom. How dead her eyes had been. That had been the last time he’d seen her. He’d tried to visit her multiple times the first year she’d gone to prison, but she’d always refused to have anything to do with him. So then he’d stopped trying.
Although he’d never stopped thinking about her.
“I don’t have the skills to find this person, but she does.”
Steve’s eyebrow raised. “You know Hayley is a convicted felon. You made sure of that.”
His gut tightened at the thought, like it did every time. “But she’s also the best at hacking a computer system.”
“Are you sure she will help you?”
Hayley had been paroled four months ago. Cain knew the exact date she’d gotten out. He’d been surprised when she moved back to Gainesville, Georgia, upon release. The place she always said she wanted to get away from.
They both had wanted to get away from it. Heaven knew they had spent enough time during their relationship in high school talking about getting out. But maybe she had decided that familiar was better.
“Cain?” Steve repeated. “Are you sure that Hayley will help you? After everything that happened?”
Cain forced himself to release the tension in his shoulders. “Hayley was guilty. She’s now out of prison and I’m sure she’s ready to move on.”
“But moving on and helping the man who put her in prison are two different things.”
Helping
