Free Dangerous Liaisons by T. C. Archer

watched,” Cole said.
    “That’s the way it works,” the man replied.
    “That’s not the way it works anymore.”
    The man laughed. “You’re not in charge.”
    “Green Leader doesn’t own me,” Cole said.
    A door squeaked and Jesse realized Cole was leaving. She started to turn, but stopped when the man said, “Hold on there. I’ll make it worth your while.” The door squeaked again, and Jesse held her breath, praying Cole had closed the door while still inside the men’s room. If he glanced back and saw the empty booth he’d be out the door in a flash.
    The man gave a low laugh. “Get me Lanton.”
    Jesse tensed in the few seconds of silence before the man spoke again.
    “It’s like you said.” He paused, then, “Take this number down. Seven, nine, three, six, two, two, seven. Catatonic , the secure code. Got it.”
    Jesse committed the number to memory.
    “Okay,” the man said and clicked the phone closed. “That’s the account at the International Bank of the Caymans, a hundred thousand for your trouble.”
    Jesse’s heart fell. Cole is Lanton’s mole . She had started to believe his story.
    “What do you want?” Cole asked.
    “Get a confession.” He paused, then added, “By any means necessary.”
    The bathroom door creaked as Cole said, “Don’t call me, I’ll call you.”
    Jesse choked back tears. Cole hadn’t led Lanton to her without meaning to. He had been working for Green Leader all along. Had Cole truly been Green Team Leader, had he been there in Colombia, was he the sole survivor as he claimed? It didn’t matter. She whirled and sprinted to the fence. The discomfort of stitches ripping shot up her leg. She stubbed her toe on a rock, stumbled, but regained her balance. The fence sat six feet away. She lunged, grabbed the chain link, and vaulted over the fence. She dropped to the other side and dove into the foliage as Cole rounded the corner of the diner.
    “Jess!” he shouted.
    She crouched in the bushes as he jogged toward her. Too late to run, he would see and hear her if she moved. Fool, fool, fool, she cursed herself. Lanton and Cole had played her like a fine fiddle.
    Cole continued around the corner of the building and skidded to a halt near the bathroom window.
    He spun in frustration, echoing her words, “Jesse, you little fool!”

Chapter Sixteen
     
    Jesse shifted in the chair at a cheap Newark, New Jersey, hotel, attention on the laptop monitor sitting on the table in front of her. The progress bar indicated the funds from the Indian Ocean account she’d created were being transferred into another account, which would disappear once the two hundred thousand from Lanton’s Cayman account, set up as her blood money, moved into yet a third account.
    The hope that she hadn’t miscalculated came too late. If OIA traced the money to her, it wouldn’t matter that the money’s final destination was the Philips and Rothman fund, a nonprofit organization that housed autistic kids with families who lacked the money to care for them. OIA would proclaim her guilty of selling out Green Team, and Lanton would receive carte blanche to hunt and kill her.
    Her stomach did a flip. The hundred thousand Lanton paid Cole was piggy backing on the two hundred grand. Twenty-four hours from now, the money would have funneled through eleven other accounts before falling off the face of the earth and into Philips and Rothman. The idea to filch his payoff was the driving force that had goaded her into snagging the two hundred grand as well. And that meant just thinking about him muddied the waters, which made her want to bawl like a baby.
    She rubbed her sore eyes. She wasn’t thinking clearly. Getting from Westchester to Newark had taken her well into the afternoon. Setting up the money route had put her deep into the night. All she wanted now was a hot bath and a few hours—
    The Professor’s cell phone rang.
    Jesse jerked her attention onto the phone sitting on the table beside