Say It Again (First Wives, #5)(38)

“I’m AJ Hofmann.”

“I know who you are,” Neil told him. Unlike with Claire, Neil put his hand out to shake.

His grip proved what AJ had already determined. Neil was a whole lot of muscle behind his girth.

“Thank you for having us.”

Neil closed the door behind them.

Sasha and Claire were following a woman in a maid’s uniform up the stairs.

“Coffee or whiskey?” Neil asked.

“Is that even a question? I’ve been traveling with the two of them all day.”

AJ couldn’t say for sure if Neil smiled. But there was something in his eyes that passed as humor before he turned and led him into a den.

Sasha joined them nineteen minutes later. She was prompt, AJ would give her that.

She’d changed out of the wig and housewife sweater and slipped on a tank top that hugged her chest and abdomen like a good friend on a Saturday night. Upon entering the room, she crossed to the whiskey in the decanter and poured herself a drink.

“Where’s Claire?”

“Facedown in a bed.”

AJ envied her.

“What did Reed tell you?” Sasha asked Neil.

“The basics. Hofmann is searching for his sister’s murderer, thinks it’s linked to your old school. The names you gave Reed have met with unfortunate dates with the grim reaper.”

“You’ve seen the data?” she asked.

“Everything Reed found.”

“Your first impression?” Sasha sipped her drink.

“There’s a link. I’m just not sure what yet.”

Sasha moved to what looked like a small secretary desk and pulled out a drawer. From there she removed a Bluetooth keyboard and made a few keystrokes.

What appeared to be a solid wall with paintings of family members peeled back to reveal a series of monitors from floor to ceiling.

“Holy crap,” AJ muttered.

Sasha slid a zip drive into the computer port after the wall revealed a second desk.

A few more keystrokes and a series of pictures were brought up on the screen.

“I took several pictures of the yearbooks from when Amelia Hofmann attended Richter. The group photos to help establish personal relationships. Senior photos with names.” She pressed another button and two pictures popped up. “Top left. This is the headmistress, Linette. She’s been in charge of Richter for as long as I remember.”

“This is a current picture?” Neil asked.

Sasha nodded. “I took all of these this week.”

“Who is the guy in the suit?” AJ asked.

“Geoff Pohl. Or Creepazoid, as Claire likes to call him.”

“The businessman?” Neil asked.

“Yes, but maybe with this picture, we can find something.”

“I’ll get the team on it.”

AJ sat forward. “Are you going to explain what Claire meant when she said this man offered you a job to kill?”

Neil narrowed his eyes.

Sasha slid a second drive into the computer. “It appears that Linette has some sort of arrangement with Pohl for him to interview students graduating from Richter for classified positions that require high marks in agility, self-defense, marksmanship, foreign languages, and computer skills.”

“Covert operations . . . spies?” Neil asked.

“That’s what I thought.” Sasha pressed play, and a male voice sounded through the speakers. “That’s Pohl.”

They sat and listened to the conversation between Sasha and Pohl.

AJ could hear the tension in Sasha’s voice when the man became condescending. Then when he said that his employer would do just about anything to obtain her services, Neil lifted a hand.

“Back that up.”

Sasha paused the recording, replayed it.

“He’s threatening you,” Neil said.

Sasha stopped the playback. “That’s what I got.”

“Did I miss something?” AJ asked. “Sounded like he would offer her whatever she wanted.”

Neil shook his head. “No, he said he would do anything to get her.” He looked at Sasha. “He alluded to others, but do we know who he works for?”

“No idea.”

Neil made little circular motions with his fingers.

Right before Sasha’s voice left the recording, Neil had her stop the tape again.

“What circumstances would need to change for you to take that job?” Neil asked.

Sasha sat in a chair, pushed her feet out in front of her. “How do you get people to do something they don’t want to do?”

“Pay them,” AJ suggested.

“Sasha doesn’t need the money,” Neil said.

“Blackmail.” Sasha sipped her drink.

Neil sat in silence. AJ could see the wheels in the man’s head turning. “Does he have anything?”

Sasha shook her head.

“Then we’ll have to wait and see what he creates.”

She reached for the computer again. “Point taken. And this is where Claire comes in. Richter does not allow unsupervised computer access without firewalls to the outside. Cell phones are prohibited for the students. But when you teach intelligence to your elite students, they find a way. Claire helped me find the hidden upper-class computers that held the data from alumni . . . including me. Which was how I was able to record this conversation and the next one.”