No Stone Unturned: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eleven Read online

  “Guys, I appreciate your concern, but I’m okay.” I sounded a lot more confident than I felt. “I’ve got this.”

  Gray didn’t look convinced, and that was probably because my poker face stunk. But thankfully she dropped that subject and moved on. “Lexi, I need to ask you a couple more questions. How much do you really know about Slash? I mean, do you know when he came to the US?”

  I thought back to a previous conversation. “He told me it was about six-and-a-half to seven years ago, and yes, I know that puts it shortly after this incident. I don’t know the exact date of his arrival, though.”

  “I’ve confirmed his arrival in the US at that time, too,” Gray said.

  I looked at her in surprise. “If you already knew, why did you ask me?”

  Gray blinked and looked down into her wineglass. Basia became unusually quiet as well. I looked between them until I figured it out.

  “You were checking to see if Slash lied to me.”

  Gray didn’t deny it. “I’m just looking out for you, Lexi. There are a lot of unknowns about Slash. For example, did he already have a job at the NSA when he came from Italy? He couldn’t have hooked up with the NSA blindly. There had to be some kind of connection there. One does not simply join the NSA, especially as a foreigner. You, better than most, know it doesn’t work that way.”

  “There was a connection,” I said. “He came recommended from someone at the Vatican, I think. Slash told me he was already working at the NSA when he was assigned as part of the team to protect the president’s infrastructure and network after Elvis and Xavier left for the private sector. Slash was apparently so good at what he was doing, he became a legend. I worked at the NSA at the time, and I honestly thought ‘Slash’ was a concept made up by the executive staff to convince everyone that the networks would remain impenetrable after the departure of the Zimmerman twins. I honestly didn’t believe Slash was a real person until he showed up in my bedroom one night.”

  “Slash showed up in your bedroom?” Gray said.

  Oops, I guess I’d never told her how Slash and I met. “Yeah, but that’s a story for another time.” I waved my hand. “Anyway, I assumed Slash got the position due to his unique and extraordinary capabilities on the keyboard.”

  Gray tapped her pencil against the table, thinking. “It’s possible, but something about his situation wasn’t adding up for me, so I did a little digging of my own. It wasn’t easy. Slash has a list of aliases longer than I’ve ever seen, and I work at the CIA. Anyway, I had to call in a couple of favors, but I finally got the name he’s using on his official documents at the NSA. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s his real name, because the date it was issued and his age don’t add up. He would have been seven years old when this was issued. Something is off.”

  “He was adopted,” I explained, feeling guilty and horrible that I was revealing this, even though Basia and Gray were two of my closest friends and I knew they’d keep it confidential. “He was in foster care in Italy until age seven. He vanished with his foster family—fell off the radar completely. Something happened to him during those seven years. Eventually he turned up in a hospital in Sperlonga, a city on Italy’s coast. He...has no memory of those seven years. I don’t think anyone was ever able to track down what happened to the foster family who’d taken him in. A nurse who treated him in the hospital adopted him. She gave him a new name and a family he took as his own. That would account for the discrepancy in the years.”

  Basia and Gray both had stricken expressions on their faces. Slash was exceptionally private, and I’d never said anything about it, so, of course they hadn’t known. He would have hated that I had divulged this, but I needed to be straight with both of them if they were going to help me help him. His safety was paramount at this stage. Still, I had to look away to keep my composure, but I cleared my throat and continued. “Anyway, I assumed his naturalization process and security clearances were put on the fast track due to his specialized skill and the critical needs of the US government. That makes the most sense.”

  “It does, but there’s something else, Lexi. Something significant.” Gray spoke, almost hesitantly. “Slash didn’t go through the naturalization process.”

  “What?” It was inconceivable. Naturalization was the law, and no one would be exempt, not even Slash. “How would that be possible?”

  Gray leaned forward. “It’s possible because he didn’t need to go through it. Slash was already a US citizen. According to his records on file at the NSA, he’s been one all his life.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cardinal Jacopo Lazo

  Jacopo watched Slash walk out the door without a backward glance. That man was going to be a lot harder to handle than he’d expected. No matter, there were other methods to get what he wanted, if Slash refused to cooperate. The man had serious demons, so he needed to play those to his advantage.

  Father Koenhein knocked a few minutes later and stuck his head in the door. “He’s gone, Your Eminence. The driver is taking him back to his hotel. Did he agree?”

  “He did not. Yet. But it doesn’t matter. We’ll get what we need with or without his cooperation.”

  “Did he leave the water bottle?”

  “No. He didn’t fall for it. He took it with him. Unfortunately, he’s a lot smarter than that. Did we get anything from the hotel?”

  “No, sir. We found no luggage, nor any evidence he had used the facilities. The room was pristine. But we’ll try again tomorrow. We’ll get something.”

  “You’d better. I need that DNA sample. His house in the US is a fortress with top-notch alarms and agents following him everywhere. He works at the most secret agency in the world. But now, we’ve finally got him where we want him. If he’s not going to cooperate willingly, we’ll have to get something from him while he’s here. Do you understand what I mean by that?” He hated having to repeat himself, and usually Koenhein was good about things, but he seemed to be slipping up lately.

  “I understand.”

  “Good. A strand of hair, saliva, anything. Get me a sample.”

  “Of course, Your Eminence. We have our best people on it.”

  “I’m counting on that.” He paused and tossed his own water bottle into the trash. “Oh, Father, be aware of one more thing.”

  “Yes?” Father Koenhein said turning around. “What is it?”

  “Be careful. He’s a dangerous man, but he can serve us well.”

  The priest lowered his eyes. “I understand, Your Eminence. I will take all necessary precautions.”

  “I’m counting on it. Remember, eggs have no business dancing with stones. If our people aren’t capable and prepared, he will break them. I don’t want to see that happen.”

  Slash

  Intrigue, scandal and innuendo were nothing new in the history of the Vatican. Slash wasn’t surprised by it, he’d just never expected to be a part of it.

  Now he was front and center at a struggle for power in the Vatican. How did he intend to handle it?

  Father Koenhein didn’t accompany him for the return ride, which suited Slash just fine. For the entire drive, he’d been analyzing and creating various scenarios for the game’s end. That was the way his mind worked. Start at the desired result and work backward until the path forward became clear. But first he had to think like Lazo to get a feel for his agenda.

  Given the pope’s failing health, Lazo would certainly be making a hard play for the papacy. He’d been positioning himself for this opportunity for his entire career, so he’d definitely have a plan in the works. He’d just revealed his first step—removing the competition. That meant for the immediate future, he’d be hyper-focused on Father Armando and anyone else he saw as a threat. Good. While Lazo was working on that, Slash had a plan to disrupt things just enough to slow Lazo’s current operation without him even realizing it.

  On t
he way up to his hotel room, he once again ran into the blind woman and the seeing-eye German shepherd as they exited the room two doors down from him. With her permission, he stopped to pet the dog, who was panting heavily, suffering from the Italian heat.

  “How long are you in Rome?” he asked the woman conversationally, as he scratched the dog behind the ears.

  “I’m visiting relatives,” she answered. “I’ll be here a few more days.”

  “Enjoy your visit. Both of you.”

  “I will. Thank you, sir.”

  An idea suddenly occurred to him, and he waited until she passed. Tapping his key card to the door pad, he went inside. As expected, both of his internal wire traps were tripped. They wouldn’t have found anything, but he was certain they’d be back. This time, he’d make sure they found something. Now he knew the game, he was ready to make his first move.

  But first, he had a lot to do.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lexi

  Gray and Basia left well past midnight. After they were gone, I gathered up all the papers and Gray’s thumb drive, which she’d left for me, then slipped my laptop under my arm and climbed the stairs to the home office Slash and I now shared. I was stressed and exhausted, but my mind was on overload, churning with an endless stream of information that needed sorting, clarification and organization. Before I could sleep, I had to determine what pieces of information were important and which ones to discard.

  What I needed was a spreadsheet and a clear strategy.

  I tapped in the security code for the office and blinked into the retinal scanner until the door clicked open, the lights automatically turning on as I entered. I loved this space. We had filled it with the things we cherished most—top-of-the-line computer hardware and software. We had not spared any expense in this room, which in our case meant we pretty much had the virtual world at our fingertips.

  Slash had his desk and work area on one side of the room, and mine was on the other. Not because we wanted to be apart, but to help us focus on the work and not each other. That was difficult when we were in close proximity. We’d chosen sleek module furniture, and Slash had wired the entire house to handle the most optimal speed. His black desk had three large plasma monitors, two vertical and one horizontal on his desk, with two more on a nearby table. We had a cluster of laptops dedicated to various tasks, completely customizable, depending on what we needed. My desk was white with two oversize monitors and a laptop, which I now held under my arm. I set it on the desk and slipped on the sweater draped over the back of my chair because we kept the room arctic cold as a result of the equipment. I reattached the laptop to a large monitor on my desk before I got to work.

  Several hours later, I’d printed and taped a series of spreadsheets to the wall with all the pertinent information I’d gathered, creating a visual timeline of Slash’s life. Unfortunately, I needed more information, which meant one thing—it was time to hack. But I needed help for this one. Powerful help.

  I glanced at the clock. It was already five in the morning. Thank God it was Saturday. I shot a quick text to Elvis, asking him if he’d have time for a consult later today.

  He texted back almost immediately, which was unusual since he told me he’d been working on a big project and going to bed early so he could function during the day when he led a team.

  Just heading to bed. Looks like we are both keeping hacker hours. Let’s meet at my place at two o’clock. Does that work for you?

  I smiled. He was one of my best friends, and somehow it was comforting that our schedules were back in sync. When we both worked at the NSA, before we left for the less restrictive private sector, we typically kept hacker hours. But now we both had significant others, which meant less time to game and hack at night. So, it surprised me he was awake now.

  I tapped out a text stating my agreement before standing up and yawning. I desperately needed some sleep to function properly. I got into my pajamas, washed my face and brushed my teeth. Before I fell asleep, I realized I hadn’t talked to Slash today. He hadn’t called me, and I hadn’t called him. When was the last time we’d gone twenty-four hours without speaking to each other?

  I looked down at my engagement ring, and pressed my thumb against the band. Part of me wanted to call him right at this moment and be damned with time zones and painful secrets, but part of me was afraid.

  As I was summoning my courage to call him, I fell asleep. Another day passed without us talking to each other.

  Lexi

  It was exactly 1:58 p.m. when I pulled up in front of the Zimmermans’ house. I wasn’t feeling awake or well—stress and lack of sleep were all playing a big role in that. I rang the doorbell and Gwen, Elvis’s girlfriend, answered.

  “Hey, Lexi.” Gwen ushered me in. She looked cute in a navy T-shirt, jean shorts and bare feet. Her flaming red hair was loose around her shoulders, her face void of makeup, full of freckles.

  “Elvis said you were coming over,” she said cheerfully. “He’s getting out of the shower. Guess he had a late night on the computer.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” I strolled into the twins’ command center, which was a converted dining room where they worked and kept all their equipment and computers.

  I stopped in the doorway. It was the same room, but it looked...different. The couch had been pushed against one of the walls and now had pretty throw pillows and there was a new rug spreading color across the wooden floor. The cords on the curtains had been neatly gathered and tied. Holy cow! Were there curtains on the windows?

  “Wow.” I did a three-sixty revolution. “You fixed things up.”

  “Just a little. I’ve been staying here an awful lot, and Elvis encouraged me to do it, so I did.” Gwen tucked her hair behind her ears. “Do you like it?”

  “Yeah, I do. It looks great.” I spotted a small table to the side with a chair on either side covered in Legos and what looked like a half-finished project. I spied the box nearby on the floor. “No way. Is that the Taj Mahal Lego set?”

  She smiled. “Elvis bought it and we’re spending our free time building it. Cool, right?”

  “Totally cool. Gwen, everything looks really nice. Seriously.” She’d been careful not to change up anything big, just small, homey touches. I spotted a little plant on Elvis’s desk. Plus, the Lego area was prime, and I knew Elvis had to love it.

  Gwen picked up one of two blankets draped over the back of the couch and handed it to me. “You still have your own blanket here. I had to get one, too, because they keep it so cold in here, but this one is still the Lexi blanket.”

  “Thanks.” I took the blanket, surprisingly touched by the gesture.

  I draped it around my shoulders as Elvis walked in. His hair was still damp from the shower. Dressed in shorts and a black T-shirt, he slid his glasses on his nose as he came into the room.

  “Hey, Lexi.” He looked rested and relaxed, and maybe even a couple of pounds heavier. Gwen was probably cooking for him, because he was about as good a cook as I was.

  “Hey, back at you,” I said. “Thanks for seeing me today.” I studied his face and manners. He seemed content. I liked that. He and Gwen hadn’t been dating long, but things were clearly going great.

  As if to prove my point, he walked over to Gwen and slid an arm around her waist, then kissed her on the cheek. They were a cute unit, and seeing them together warmed my heart.

  “So, geek princess, I understand you need a consult,” he said to me.

  “I do.”

  “I hope it involves some serious hacking. I’ve been busy on a project that’s leaving me no time to spread my wings. I could use a good hack.”

  “Well, I’ve got one for you.”

  Gwen lifted a hand. “Okay, you two continue your geek speak. That’s my cue to leave. Elvis, I’ve got your coffee and some breakfast in the kitchen, although already it’s past lunchtime.
I’ll bring it to you.” She turned to me. “You want something, Lexi?”

  “Coffee would be great. Lots of milk.”

  “Coming up.”

  She headed into the kitchen and Elvis went around to the couch and sat down. He tapped the spot next to him. “Talk to me.”

  I decided to get right to the point. “I want to hack the Vatican archives.”

  “What? Are you out of your everlasting mind?”

  Really? He didn’t have to be so dramatic. “I want to hack into the Vatican archives,” I repeated. “We hacked them before—you know, as part of our job—so it’s doable.”

  “No, we hacked a file from the Vatican,” he corrected. “The file had already been extracted from the archives, and it was heavily encrypted. It took the four of us—you, me, Slash and Xavier, as well as some heavy equipment—about forty-eight hours to get into it.”

  “I know, but we’re familiar with the coding, the style,” I argued. “I think we can do it.”

  He leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs. “Lexi, come on. You know better than this. You don’t walk into a guy’s house and say ‘Let’s hack the Vatican.’ Besides, Slash would be the guy for this job anyway. Why didn’t you ask him? What’s really going on?”

  I tugged nervously on my ponytail. “It’s Slash. I think he’s in trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “I’m not sure.” I gave him a brief update on the cryptic note, the note from the fireworks, Slash’s brother, Giorgio, and the nkondi statue.

  Elvis whistled when I finished. “Wow. Slash won’t tell you what’s going on?”

  “He can’t or won’t. I don’t know which one it is.”

  His brows drew together as he processed that. Elvis liked relationship talk as much as I did—which was not at all—but he’d initiate it if he thought I wanted it. Right now, I definitely didn’t, so I asked him, “So, will you help?”