“Nothing really. This’ll all be over when the verdicts come back, so what else is there to deliberate over?”
He shrugged, not the least bit nonchalantly. “Other than the fact that Ethan might have known my father thirty years ago and it somehow slipped his mind?”
“That’s been eating at you all this time, hasn’t it?”
“Yes.” He reached for his cell.
“Wait.” I jumped to my feet. “Just wait.”
“Ari, I need to speak with him.”
“I agree. But let’s make sure we have all the facts first.”
I didn’t blame him for being disturbed by the turn of events, this unexpected twist of fate. But this wasn’t just anyone we were talking about—it was Ethan. Dane’s best friend. His mentor. His business associate.
The godfather of his son.
I knew Dane was one to confront adversity head-on, not beat around the bush. But I was nervous about this new anomaly.
Ethan being that anomaly.
“Can we maybe just take a peek at what’s been hiding in Switzerland?” I asked. “You know, get a little ahead of the curve, if possible?”
Dane clearly didn’t see a problem with that. He crossed to the wall by the fireplace and removed an original van Gogh. He worked the combination to the safe I had no idea was concealed behind the painting, pulled open the door, and handed over the laptop.
“You want me to check it?”
“An objective third party.”
Intrigue trilled down my spine.
No, I shouldn’t still get a kick out of the Lara Croft stuff. But I did.
I sat at my desk and he gave me the password, bagan. Standard fare for him. It was German for “to fight.” Also the origin of his last name, Bax.
Not having any idea what we really trolled for, I asked, “Did you take note of how many files you had before locking this thing up?”
“Six hundred and seventy-two.”
“Wow. Way to pin it down. Okay.” I accessed the Documents folder and scanned it, then checked the number of files saved. I frowned. “Sure it wasn’t more like five hundred and twelve?”
“No,” he said in his confident tone.
I glanced at him. “You don’t have to be right on the money, Dane, but we should be in the same ballpark.”
With a shake of his head, he repeated, “Six hundred and seventy-two.”
My stomach churned. “Hmm.”
“What?”
“There’s only five hundred and twelve now.”
“What?” He strode toward me and leaned over my shoulder. “No, Ari. Check again. I made sure I knew how many files I’d downloaded before I put it in the safe-deposit box, not long after Vale had kidnapped you.”
“Dane, one hundred and sixty files are missing.”
I shoved back my chair. He stealthily moved out of the way.