“What kind of deal?” I asked.

He took another step closer, lowering his voice so Vance couldn’t hear.

“The offshore accounts in Cyprus,” he said.

“They aren’t on that drive. Only I have the routing numbers.”

He wiped the rain from his eyes with a trembling hand.

“There is forty-two million dollars in those accounts,” he said.

“Take half. Just let us drive out of here. Let us get to the private airstrip.”

I looked at his wet face, feeling absolutely nothing.

“You think I want your money, Grant?” I asked.

“Everyone wants money,” he said.

He reached out to touch my arm, but I stepped back, out of his reach.

“Don’t,” I said.

“Think about it,” he pleaded, his eyes desperate.

“You can retire. We can both disappear.”

“You still do not understand what is happening here, do you?” I said.

He blinked, his mouth opening slightly.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You think I am some rogue investigator Vance hired to dig up dirt on your family,” I said.

“Aren’t you?” he asked.

I reached inside my wet jacket.