I reached into my vest and pulled out the third transmitter.

I needed to place it near the study door to catch the exact details of the accounts.

There was a small bronze bust of a historical figure on a pedestal next to the frame.

I reached out and pressed the tiny device into the hollow underside of the bronze base.

“Third active,” I breathed.

“We are getting the desktop audio now,” Marcus whispered in my ear. “Keep listening.”

I stood frozen in the shadows, listening to the clatter of Grant’s keyboard.

“The offshore routing numbers are verified,” Grant said.

“And the child?” Vanessa asked.

Her voice was cold, devoid of any human warmth.

“She is in her room,” Grant said. “The sedative should keep her quiet until we reach the private airfield.”

My grip tightened on my weapon until my knuckles turned white.

They had drugged my daughter.

“We cannot leave her behind, Grant,” Vanessa said. “If the feds trace the accounts, she is our leverage.”

“I know,” Grant said. “She comes with us to Argentina.”

“How long to liquidate the remaining real estate holdings?” Vanessa asked.