The Sixth Man (Sean King & Michelle Maxwell 5)

“What do you mean?”

“To hide the identity of his client from you?”

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “This was the only time he did.”

“Okay, thanks, Hilary. I’ll be in touch.” He put the phone down and gazed at Megan. “Looks like we have a mystery on both ends.”

The door opened.

Agent Murdock stood there with his men right behind.

“Megan Riley?”

The young lawyer spilled her tea as she stood on trembling legs. “Yes?”

“FBI. You’ll need to come with us.” He looked over at Sean. “And be thankful your ass isn’t being charged with obstruction.”

“How would that be possible?”

“You know the lady is pertinent to our investigation.”

“Pertinent but not a material witness. And I’m entitled to conduct my own investigation.” Murdock started to say something but before he could get the words out, Sean added, “The way I see it I did you a favor. I brought her up to Maine. I’ll be sure to send along a request for reimbursement of her plane ticket to the Bureau.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” growled Murdock. “Let’s go, Ms. Riley.”

Megan looked imploringly at Sean, who said, “Call me when they’re done. I’ll come and pick you up.”

“No you won’t,” snapped Murdock.

“You holding her against her will?”

“No.”

“Then I will pick her up when she calls.”

“You better watch yourself.”

“I suggest you do the same, Agent Murdock.”

CHAPTER

15

PETER BUNTING NERVOUSLY ADJUSTED his tie and nodded at the staffer who had come to escort him to his meeting. He’d been here on numerous occasions, but this time was different. This time he was prepared to have his ass handed to him.

He suddenly stopped and stared blankly at the man who was just now leaving the office he was about to enter.

Mason Quantrell was fifteen years older than Bunting and not quite as tall, with a bulldog chest and a jowly face. His hair was still thick and wavy, though the brown strands had turned mostly gray. His mind was far sharper than his features, his eyes roaming and intense. He was the CEO of the Mercury Group, one of the biggest players in the national security field. Revenue-wise, Mercury was well over twice the size of Bunting’s company, but the E-Program platform gave Bunting greater clout in the intelligence community. Quantrell was from the old school. Spread the intelligence around. Let the worker bees do their thing and feed the government paper mill, spewing out reports no one had time to read. He was the dinosaur making billions off Uncle Sam. Quantrell had hired Bunting to work for him right out of college. And then Bunting had left to build his own empire. Two decades ago Quantrell had been the wonder boy of the private-sector clandestine world before Bunting had replaced him.

They were not friends. In some ways they were even more than competitors. And in Washington there were really no winners or losers, only survivors. And Bunting knew that Quantrell would do everything in his power to knock him off his lofty perch.

“What a coincidence seeing you here,” said Quantrell.

I bet, thought Bunting.

“How’s business?” asked Quantrell.

“Never better.”