Page 109 of Snow

“When was the last time you saw them?”

“Last night in the dining area. I stopped by their room about fifteen minutes ago to let Mr. Iverson know that we got that broken valve replaced.”

“And?”

“They weren’t there.”

Brett got a bad feeling. “Neither of them?”

“No. I figured Ms. Hart was up here.”

“She isn’t.”

Clint went quiet, and Brett could practically see the same pieces beginning to come together in the other man’s head.

“Wait, are you saying that you suspect they could be agents?”

“I don’t know what the fuck I think.”

Except that wasn’t entirely true. The more Brett considered it, the more things started making an uncomfortable amount of sense.

Maybe Silverman had never been the real reason they were here.

“Do you think they know?” Clint asked.

“I don’t see how. I’ve covered everything.”

Brett’s phone rang. When he looked down at the screen, an uneasy feeling hit his stomach when he recognized the number as belonging to one of Matisse’s people.

He answered immediately. “What?”

“They got Andre,” the voice on the line said.

Brett tightened his grip on the phone. “What do you mean, they got him?”

“What the hell do you think I mean? Federal agents arrested him.”

“When?”

“Early this morning. Fuckers appeared out of nowhere.”

Brett gripped the edge of his desk with his free hand. “Is he talking?”

“Nobody knows.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No. But I thought you would want to know.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the heads up. Let me know when you hear anything else.”

Brett disconnected the call before the guy could finish.

For a moment, he simply stared at his phone as everything that had happened that morning rearranged itself into a picture he really didn’t fucking like. Matisse was in federal custody, agents were tearing apart Gulf Tide’s headquarters, Hart and Iverson were nowhere to be found, and the prototype was still sitting on Platform Three.

“What happened?” Clint demanded.

Brett lifted his gaze. “Matisse was arrested.”