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 the man who used his relationship with her to put her in prison.
Steve didn’t say the words, but he didn’t have to. Both of them were thinking it; Steve had known Cain when it happened. They both knew that was much more difficult to move on from.
Cain ignored it. He’d done what he had to do four years ago, even though it had gutted him. But the law had been on his side. He tried to remember that.
And he’d had no idea the judge would be so hard in his sentencing of Hayley. But that hadn’t changed the fact that she was guilty.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle Hayley,” Cain finally said. And he would. He couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t help him catch a murderer, no matter what had transpired between the two of them in the past.
“If you say so.” Steve wisely didn’t say anything further.
“I’m going to have to go completely dark from Omega.” Cain began stacking files. Many of them would be coming with him to Georgia. “Hayley can’t work anywhere within the Omega system.”
“Completely dark?” Steve asked. “That could be dangerous. You won’t have much backup if you need it.”
“Until we know how deep this goes, have a better idea of who the mole is and what sort of capacity he or she has for obtaining information? I can’t work within the Omega system. If this mole is as good as we think, he’ll realize it if I’m inside.”
The last thing either of them wanted to do was cause the traitor to go to ground. They’d never be able to catch him then. And that would make apprehending Freihof that much harder.
“The only people who will know what I’m doing will be you, Ren McClement in the DC office and me.”
Steve nodded. They both wanted to trust more people but keeping this circle as small as possible was the best scenario. McClement worked in the highest levels of Omega Sector, bringing together multiple departments when needed. The man was all but a legend. Cain trusted Ren just as much as he trusted Steve.
With his life.
“You just be careful,” Steve said. “Going dark can have some hard consequences.”
“I’m willing to pay that price if it means we get this traitor out of our midst.”
“I know you are.” Steve studied him. “But sometimes we are not the only person to pay the price. Hayley might have been guilty of whatever crime she committed years ago, but dragging her into this could be even worse.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect Hayley.” Believe it or not, even if she couldn’t see it, he’d always been trying to protect her. From the day he met her in high school until today. “I’ll make sure it’s cleared through the state so that she won’t be violating her parole by helping us. I won’t let anybody hurt her.”
Steve moved toward the door, nodding. “I hope she sees it that way.”
So did Cain.
Hayley loaded the dirty dishes and wiped down the booth that had just been vacated by Bluewater Grill patrons. She slid along the soft gray leather of the seat to wipe a far corner of the table. She swiped at a few strands of dirty-blond hair that had escaped her long braid with the back of her hand, then hoped the moisture left on her forehead wasn’t cleaning solution.
She almost moaned in relief at how good it felt to be off her feet for just a second as she wiped. It was two o’clock in the afternoon. She’d already been working six hours and still had another eight to go. Just like yesterday.
And the day before that.
It was the only way she could make ends meet when she earned only minimum wage. Less than that, actually. But she didn’t argue, because at least she had a job.
Not many people were willing to hire a convicted felon, she’d found when she left the Georgia Women’s Correctional Institution four months ago. She’d been fortunate that the restaurant she worked at in high school part-time, still owned by the same family and now managed by their son, Timothy Smittle, a high school classmate of Hayley’s, had been willing to take a chance on her.
They hadn’t let her wait tables, explaining that they couldn’t allow an ex-felon to interact with customers or handle money. But Timothy had graciously offered to allow Hayley to bus the tables, wash dishes and clean the entire restaurant.
The same Timothy who was looking over at her now, eyebrow raised, since she was no longer wiping the table,