“Is that why no one could tell us who she was?”

He shook his head. “No one told us because no one wanted anyone to know what happened to her.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember that the report stated that Trask's lab was blown up by orders from the White House?”

She nodded.

“Well, she was in the lab.”

Kerry's eyes widened. “What?”

George gestured. “Boom. The lab went up and so did Helen Saduz.”

“How did that happen?”

“We think that Trask sent her to the lab to retrieve something he'd left behind.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “Papers, maybe a prototype of some kind . . . Anyway, she had the bad luck to be there when they blew the building.”

“But surely they'd have searched for anyone on the premises?”

“The building was sealed. There wasn't supposed to be anyone there. Any search would have been minimal.”

“How would she have even gotten in if the building was sealed?”

“Trask must have told her how to do it. He evidently had to have had a way of getting past security when he was stealing components and information from the other people on his team before he took off.”

She looked down at the photo on the sheet he'd given her. The woman was brunette, in her twenties with classic features. “She's beautiful.”

He nodded. “Absolutely. And memorable. Which was a break for us. Because there wasn't much to identify when they found her in the ashes. They could tell the age and sex by the skeleton, but the rest was guesswork. Or should I say legwork? None of his coworkers had seen Trask with her, but that wasn't unusual. He was a loner and didn't hobnob with any of them. The Service sent agents to backtrack to all Trask's favorite restaurants and found a few waiters who remembered her. They had an artist render a likeness from their descriptions and then sent it to the database. It came up with Helen Saduz.”

“Greek?” Kerry was reading the dossier. She stiffened. “And her father is Iranian?”

“Right. Trask was probably negotiating with Iran before the project was even completed. They sent Helen Saduz to clinch the deal. She was smart, well educated, and very accomplished at persuading men to do what she wanted. As you can see by her background, she was an agent who used sex to lure at least four scientists to come over to Iran's camp.”

She lifted her gaze from the page. “She succeeded in fooling Trask. He loved her. Maybe he thinks he has reason to go after everyone connected with blowing that lab.”

“Remember, he sent her there. He might not have known they were going to blow it up, but he knew he was putting her in danger.”

“That's true. But maybe she persuaded him to let her do it. It would be a way of drawing him closer to her.”

“Possibly. And of getting her hands on valuable information that could be photographed before it was turned over to Trask.”

“But why didn't the government want anyone to know she'd been killed in that building?”

“The CIA stepped in when they found out who she was. They're trying to link the Iranian government with the espionage. She was well known to them, and they smelled an opportunity. They didn't want anyone to know she was dead and persuaded the President to let them pull the records and take over her part of the investigation. They've been sending messages to her contact in Iran in hope of getting something concrete against the government.” He made a face. “That's why all the records about her were erased. No leaks.”

“Another ‘need to know' case? Good God, don't these agencies tell each other anything?”

“As little as possible. Even Homeland Security hasn't broken through all the bureaucratic bull.”

“But Trask isn't dealing with Iran now. You said he was negotiating with North Korea. Why?”

He shook his head. “Since you're on such good terms, why don't you ask him? He hasn't contacted you again?”

“No.” But she knew it was only a matter of time. She could feel him . . . hovering. “There hasn't been any sign of Dickens either?”

“You'd have been the first to know if Ledbruk had sighted him. No sign of anyone suspicious at Carmela's hospital. No one following you when you leave here every day.”

Then what was happening with Trask? Her every instinct told her he wouldn't have taken that defeat at the warehouse without retaliating.

“You're quite safe,” George said as he read her expression. “I made sure Ledbruk has assigned top-notch surveillance people to you. They're not going to slip up and let you get killed.”

“Like they did with Joyce Fairchild?”

He made a face. “Touché. But they're smart enough to learn from their mistakes.”

“I hope so.” She turned away. “Silver is on his way to pick up Rosa Ruiz.”

“Yes, he told me.”

“Did he? Well, I don't want anything to happen to her.” She started to turn away. “And I don't want anything to happen to Silver.”

“Even though you're pissed at him?”

“That doesn't matter.”

He sat back and his eyes narrowed on her face. “No, it wouldn't. You have a very strong relationship.”

There was something in his tone that made her turn back to face him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

He gazed at her innocently. “Why, did I strike a nerve?”

“If you did, it's because you meant to do it.”

“Discretion forbids me to suggest I could have merely been referring to the fact that you've been sleeping together.”

The bluntness of his words surprised her. She'd assumed he was aware that she and Silver were lovers, but he'd never mentioned it.

Why do it now, out of the blue? “That remark wasn't in the least discreet.” She studied him. “And out of character. Could it be that you wanted to throw a red herring into the mix?”

He chuckled. “Absolutely. I was quite enjoying my subtle innuendos, but I should have known you'd see through me and call my bluff.”

“Then show me your hand.”

He was still smiling as he leaned back in his chair. “I paid a visit to Georgetown University while you were in Marionville. It's an open secret on campus that the hydrostatics lab isn't what it seems. There are all kinds of rumors about the people who come and go from that building. Even a few interesting ones about CIA connections. So I came back and called my buddies at the CIA who owe me favors.”

“And?”

“It seems the CIA also owes Brad Silver a few favors for some rather unusual contributions. One might even say weird contributions.” He tilted his head. “And I asked myself, if Brad is some kind of psychic guru, what are you, Kerry?”

“I'm sure you came up with an answer?”

“Oh, I did. And I found it fascinating. Life is always providing us with new ways to make our existence entertaining.”

“Believable ways?”

He nodded. “Do you mean, do I think you and Brad are wacko? I wouldn't risk my neck on something you ‘sensed,' but I have an open mind. I've been in enough bizarre situations to know that there's usually a hell of a lot more under the surface than we can see.”

“Then what are you going to do about it?”

“Not a thing. Why should I? I merely yielded to temptation to let you know that I was no longer in the dark. My ego required it. As for the extent of your talent, I'm really not interested as long as it doesn't affect me. You can't read my mind or anything, can you?”

“No.”

“Brad?”

She hesitated. “It's the last thing he wants to do.”

“You didn't answer me.” He grimaced. “Or maybe you did. Perhaps I'm not as comfortable with the situation as I thought. I believe we'd better concentrate on getting Trask right away, in case I decide to bail.”

He was uneasy. It was only to be expected. It was the response she'd tried to avoid since that day in the hospital when Travis had explained her talent. But for some reason it bothered her that even George would have that reaction. Dammit, she liked him. She tried to smile. “We haven't been concentrating on anything other than getting Trask.”