Page 25 of Crosscurrent
Gabe grabbed the pastry tray and headed downstairs fast. “Tom,” Gabe said. “Run Owen Harney.”
Tom’s fingers were already moving.
“Who’s Owen Harney?” Reagan asked.
“Guy upstairs looking for Skye.”
Skye untangled herself from the lotus position, setting her feet flat on the floor. Ready to run.
Tom scanned rapidly through search returns. “Okay. Owen Harney, thirty-six. Assistant professor of medieval history at St. Alwyn University, a private, liberal arts university in Southern California. It’s pretty swanky, according to the images. Think Hogwarts only with a zillion-dollar ocean view. Harney has published three papers on monastic trade routes, which honestly feels aggressively on brand somehow.”
“Connection to Ray?” Gabe asked.
Tom clicked again. “There.”
A family photo appeared on-screen.
Ray Harney, younger by maybe fifteen years, stood beside a teenage boy wearing oversized glasses and the deeply wounded expression of somebody being forced to attend a family reunion against his will.
“Nephew,” Tom confirmed.
Lips parted, Skye stared at the screen without moving.
Gabe watched something complicated flicker briefly across her face.
Grief maybe.
Or recognition.
He met Cara’s gaze. She nodded.
“He brought an envelope,” Gabe said.
That got everybody’s attention.
Wade leaned back slightly in his chair. “Could be a setup.”
“Could be,” Gabe agreed.
“But probably isn’t,” Cara said quietly.
Everybody looked toward her.
Cara folded her arms. “If Neptune already had Skye’s alias files and dead-drop intel, they wouldn’t send a nervous history professor into a bakery announcing he was looking for their next target.”
“An excellent point,” Reagan admitted.
“Stupidly bad tradecraft,” Wade added.
Tom still looked uneasy. “He could still be compromised.”
Skye finally spoke. “Ray wouldn’t use family accidentally.”
The room quieted.
She looked down briefly at the legal pad resting on her knee before continuing.
“He kept his real life separate from operations unless something mattered.”
