“That’s not?—”
“Don’t say it’s not necessary,” he cuts in. “Not when they’re tracking you.”
I inhale deeply, forcing oxygen into my lungs, forcing logic to override panic. “Who would do this? Can you trace it?”
“They’re working on it. As for who—like I’ve been telling you since charges were filed against Pierce—” Pierce, the defense contractor whose company had been accused of leveraging stolen intelligence and risqué videos to pressure lawmakers into approving Pentagon contracts. “Pierce won’t want anything you know—anything you’ve stumbled onto through your other clients—surfacing in the investigation. If you possess information someone doesn’t want exposed in discovery, you’re at risk.”
My fingertips press against the windowpane, cold seeping into my skin. “What does tracking me get them?”
“In the worst-case scenario? Your schedule. Your patterns. They’re patient, Alicia. They find ways to make things look like accidents.”
A chill crawls over my arms. “You really believe that? This isn’t just your crime-fetish paranoia talking?”
“Unfortunately, no. The investigation into Pierce is widening. And when the circle expands, the expendable targets multiply.”
“And you think some of my clients are getting swept up in it?”
“I’d say at the very least, Pierce—who’s both wealthy and ruthless—is worried. And maybe others exposed with the Pierce investigation.”
“Senator Crawford has access to the same intelligence I do, through his own channels,” I counter. “I’m not the only pathway to exposure.”
“And for the most part, that would be hearsay. You, on the other hand—clients confide in you directly. Sometimes they hand you the evidence.”
I exhale slowly, the sound trembling through the silence. “I don’t have anything on Pierce that Crawford doesn’t.”
“But does he know that? And what about Senator Lopez? Your other client from the Magpie situation—she was working with the same extortionist, different leverage.” Dorian’s tone lowers, softer now. “Don’t forget, Vasquez sent emails before her death that said you possess information.”
“This is…absurd.” My gaze lifts to the ceiling tiles, willing them not to shift, not to close in. “But why would someone plant a tracker?”
“The tracker’s not the problem. It’s what they plan to do with what they learn.”
A slow throb starts at my temples. “Do you think they’d hurt Stella?”
“If it were me, no. I’d make something look like an accident.”
My throat tightens. “Is he really that?—”
“It might not be just him. He’s connected, Alicia. And we don’t know who might think they could get caught up in the investigation. This is bigger than Pierce.”
I rub my arms, grounding myself in the texture of wool and the faint hum of the building’s HVAC. “You know, before, I didn’t understand how much can surface during discovery. Now I’m getting a crash course.”
“You mean your police interrogation?”
“You heard about that?”
“I’m kept updated,” he says, and I picture the network of quiet watchers KOAN deploys.
“What did they want to know that you haven’t already told them?”
“He’s out of leads,” I say. “He’s digging deep, looking for cracks.”
“You worked with Delacroix years ago.”
“Ten,” I reply automatically. The number feels weighted. “Though he stayed on my board for three years after that.”
“So the police, they’re grasping at straws?”
“Maybe.”