Marsh’s eyes narrowed briefly. “Maybe I should stay as well.”
Cate shook her head. “No. You have a job to do back home. I’ll be fine, and Draco will have my back.”
Her father’s frown didn’t ease. “I still need to make some calls. You’ll need your passport to get around Europe. I’m betting when you were kidnapped, they didn’t bother to make sure you had your passport or your personal items with you. Plus, you’ll need money or a credit card.”
Cate nodded and smiled. “Anything you can do to get me a copy of my passport will be appreciated. I’ll contact my bank and have them cancel my credit cards since I have no idea where they might be at this point and send me replacements.”
“In the meantime, you can take one of mine.” He reached for his wallet.
Cate held up her hands. “No, thank you, Dad. I won’t take your credit card.”
Her father’s lips pressed together. “Now, Cate, don’t turn it down. It’s only for however long it takes to get your own. And you can pay me back...with interest…if it makes you feel better.” He grinned. “I know how much you dislike being dependent on anyone for so much as a glass of wine.”
Her heart warmed at her father’s insistence. He knew her almost as well as she knew herself. They’d been the dynamic duo since her mother’s death when she’d been only thirteen years old, until his work had taken him away more and more, leaving her alone to navigate her rocky teens without either parent to lean on. Still, she’d known he’d walk through the fires of hell to protect her. But he couldn’t protect her heart. Only Cate could do that. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Damn right, you will,” he said with a wink. His frown eased from his forehead, and his expression softened. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I’d rather you came home with me, but I know you won’t. At least you’ll be able to get what you need, and you won’t be alone.”
“Now that you’ve all heard my story, you know that I’m here until I find who I came looking for.” Cate turned to the Ukrainian tech support guy for the Brotherhood International team. “I’m sorry I took so long with my story. I’d really like to hear what Dmytro has brought with him. He’s been sitting patiently and quietly, waiting to tell us about all the insightful things he’s learned since we left the office.” She waved toward Dmytro.
He finished chewing the bite of pretzel he’d only moments before popped into his mouth and swallowed. “I have information concerning Marcus Calloway.” The older man with his shock of white hair shoved his plate forward, pulled a laptop from the satchel he’d set on the floor beside his chair and fired it up. He reached into one of his pockets, pulled out a three-inch-square metal device, and unfolded it, pointing it toward one of the bare walls. He tapped his fingers on the keyboard and then glanced at the bare, white wall.
When nothing happened, he tapped his fingers across the keyboard again. This time, the little unfolded square device flashed red. An image materialized on the white wall. “After everyone left the office, I searched the names Ms. Cate gave me.”
Cate leaned forward and stared at the projected image of Dmytro’s computer screen. He brought up what appeared to be bank account records.
“Marcus Callow, your dead man, or disappearing man, was not running from debt. The man had excellent credit and money in the bank.” Dmytro paused. “Until about two months ago.”
Cate’s heart fluttered, and her pulse quickened.
Dmytro used his cursor to highlight several transactions in the man’s bank account. “Mr. Calloway began transferring money from the personal accounts he shared with his wife. The transfers were structured to avoid triggering reporting thresholds.”
Anger swelled in Cate’s gut. The bastard had been bleeding their joint accounts dry without Dana knowing. “Where did he move the money?”
Dmytro’s lips thinned. “I do not have that information. Yet. As it stands, the money seems to have disappeared. The point is a man drowning in debt does not clean out his accounts in such a meticulous manner as if he’s packing for a move. Calloway’s money movement was deliberate and conducted over several weeks.”
The wine in Cate’s stomach turned to acid as her chin lifted, her gut vindicated. “He planned it all. Moved the money, staged his own death and framed his wife to keep the focus on her while he absconded with their life savings.” She shook her head. “Bastard.”
“He planned it.” Dmytro nodded. “Moving on to the second item I have for you to see.” He pulled a stack of papers from his satchel and laid them out in front of Cate. “You do realize that the cell phone you lost is only a device, right?”
Cate frowned. “Yes?” Where was he going with this?
“We think that when we lose such a device, we have lost so much, almost a part of our lives.” He slapped the papers with his palm, startling Cate.
Cate started and leaned back, her eyes rounding.
“That is wrong.” Dmytro lifted his hand. “The gold mine is in the data your carrier keeps. And it is available if you know how to ask for it.” His eyes twinkled as he pushed the papers closer to Cate. “These papers are your call history. Every number you have dialed or received for the past three months is listed in these papers.” He shuffled through the pages and stopped on one where a red marker had circled one number. “Do you see the number with +44 in front of it?”
“That’s the number I called before I flew to London,” Cate said with a nod. “Freddie Hackett’s number. The man I spoke with at the freight company.”
“That is correct,” Dmytro said, his face lighting up. Then it sobered. “I called that number and asked to speak to my good friend Freddie Hackett.” He paused, his brow rising on his forehead. “Freddie has not reported to work for two weeks. The person I spoke with asked if I knew why.”
Cate’s pulse thundered in her ears.
The people around the table leaned forward, silent, waiting.
“Two weeks?” she repeated.
Dmytro nodded. “The timeframe lines up with your kidnapping.” Dmytro spread his arms wide. “Coincidence?”