The WITSEC agent removed a final photograph from the envelope and placed it on the counter in front of Kate.
It was even more disturbing. Kate averted her eyes.
It displayed the far side of the woman’s face. Her bruised and swollen eyes were rolled back under her lids. Her matted brown hair fell forward, slightly covering her face.
But not enough to conceal the dark, dime-size hole in the right side of her forehead.
“Christ!” Kate sucked in a sharp breath, wanting to turn away again. “Why are you showing me these? Why are you asking about my father?”
But then something stopped her. Her eyes grew wide, transfixed.
Kate went back to the photo. She saw something. She slowly picked it up and stared.
“Oh, my God …” Kate gasped, the blood draining from her face.
I know her.
At first she couldn’t see it—the poor woman’s wounds were so disfiguring, but suddenly the features—the mole on the side of her mouth—came clear.
Kate turned back to Phil Cavetti, a cramp of revulsion gripping her abdomen.
The woman in the photo was Margaret Seymour.
“Oh, good Lord, no …” Kate shut her eyes, nausea overcoming her. “This can’t be true. It’s horrible …”
Margaret Seymour had been attractive and pleasant. She had reached out to Em in order to make her transition as easy as possible. The whole family’s. They all liked her. No … good God.
“Who did this?” Kate shook her head, repulsed. “Why?”
“We don’t know.” Phil Cavetti got up and went over to the sink and poured her a glass of water. “This happened Thursday, last week. In a warehouse park outside of Chicago. All we do know is that Agent Seymour went there to meet someone—related to a case. I know how troubling it is.”
Kate gulped down a mouthful of cooling water, unable to stop shaking her head.
Cavetti squeezed her arm. “Like we said, we’re thinking this wasn’t designed to kill her at first but to get her to talk. To divulge something.”
“I don’t understand.…”
“The whereabouts of a reassignment, Ms. Raab,” the Justice lawyer interjected. “Someone in the program.”
Suddenly she understood. A tremor of alarm gripped her. “Why are you showing me all this, Agent Cavetti?”
“Kate, we found something in Agent Seymour’s car.” The WITSEC agent paused. He took out something new from the envelope.
This time it wasn’t a photograph but a single sheet of notepaper, blank, like from a small perforated notepad, contained in a plastic bag.
Kate looked back at him, confused.
“The car was gone over, Kate, from front to back, by whoever did this, no doubt, to make sure it was clean. This sheet was still attached to a notepad on the dashboard. Something had been written on the page above it—and removed.”
“It’s blank.” Kate shrugged. But as she looked closer, she could see the faint outline of someone’s writing.
“Here, under UV light”—Cavetti took out one more photo—“you can see it enhanced.”
Kate held the new photo. Something had been scrawled there. Five letters came to life. In Margaret Seymour’s hand.
M-I-D-A-S.
“Midas?” Kate looked blank. “I’m not understanding. How does all this relate to me?”
Cavetti stared at her. “MIDAS is the code name we gave to your family, Kate.”
It had the force of a fist, hitting her squarely in the abdomen, squeezing the oxygen out of her lungs.
First Tina, outside the lab. Then Margaret Seymour, her family’s case agent. Now they were asking if she’d heard from her father.
“What’s going on, Agent Cavetti?” Kate stood up. “My family! They could be in danger. Have you notified them? Have you spoken with my father?”
“That’s why we’re here.” The WITSEC man paused, staring into her eyes. “I’m afraid your father is missing, Kate.”
“Missing …?” The word fell numbly from Kate’s lips. “Missing since when?”
“He dropped your sister off at a squash club last week, then disappeared,” Cavetti said, tapping the photographs back into a stack and setting them down. “We don’t know where he is. You’re certain he hasn’t been in touch?”
“Of course I’m certain!” A wave of anguish swept over Kate. Her father was missing. His case agent had been brutally murdered.
“My mother! My brother and sister! Are they all right?”
“They’re safe, Kate.” Cavetti raised his palm in a cautioning way. “They’re under guard.”
Kate looked back at him, trying to figure out just what that meant. “Under guard!”
She slid off the stool, touching a hand to her face. Her worst fears had now come true. They had tried to get to her. They had killed Margaret Seymour. Now they might have found her family. Kate stepped over to the couch and lowered herself onto the armrest. She knew one thing: Her father, whatever he had done, loved his family. If he was missing, something had happened. He would never just leave.
“Is my father dead, Agent Cavetti?”
He shook his head. “The truth is, we don’t know. We’re going to assign a protective agent to you, Kate. Maybe somehow he’s okay. Maybe he’ll try to contact you. You may even be a target yourself.”
“I already was,” Kate said. Then she looked up with a start. “You said you knew about Tina.”
At first Cavetti didn’t respond. He just glanced a bit uncomfortably in the direction of Nardozzi.
Kate stood up and stared at them. “You knew about Tina, and you never even contacted me. You—”
“Kate, we know how you must have felt with that, but the police …”
In a daze she tried to connect the timelines in her mind. Tina was three days ago, Margaret Seymour, so they said, last Thursday. Her father … How could her father be missing since then? Why wouldn’t they have warned her?
“I want to talk to my family,” she said to Cavetti. “I want to make sure they’re all right.”
“I’m sorry, Kate. That isn’t possible. They’re in protective custody now.”
“What do you mean, they’re in protective custody?”
“Kate,” Cavetti said, helplessly, “the people running the Mercado operation would do anything to retaliate against your father. They may already have. The agency’s been penetrated. Until we know what’s happened, the worst thing we can do is compromise their security. This is the way it has to be.”
Kate glared back. “Are you saying they’re prisoners? That I’m a prisoner, too?”