Crossfire (Cross Duet #1)

60. GRAYSON

60

GRAYSON

“Can you prove any of it’s fake?” No point in sugarcoating it or beating around the bush. I didn’t have time for that.

Barry glanced at Ivy. “You sure you want her here for this?”

Was he about to drop a bombshell, or had he come up empty-handed? His tone was unreadable, as was his expression.

Barry’s salt-and-pepper hair and matching beard seemed to hold a wisdom that I prayed would work in our favor today. This stocky man—wearing black trousers, a dark blue button-down shirt, and a leather jacket—held Ivy’s fate in his hands with whatever he said next.

The information he was about to reveal could either be her saving grace or the final nail in her coffin.

“She stays,” I clarified, looking at my kitten.

She was trying to be brave with her chin up, but I could see her nervousness in the slight narrowing of her eyebrows. She deserved to hear all of this, and I wasn’t going to leave her alone.

“So does Hunter.”

Because the implications of whatever Barry found could be far-reaching, and in the event everything went to hell, I wanted a witness.

Barry thinned his lips, his years as a CIA operative undoubtedly infiltrating his conscience, but he wasn’t in the CIA anymore, and I wasn’t asking about confidential information on his work.

Hunter closed the door with a soft click, sealing him, me, and Ivy in his office with Barry Mansfield, who placed an unopened manila folder on the desk. It lay there, innocuous yet menacing, potentially holding secrets that could change everything.

If he couldn’t help me get to the bottom of this, I wasn’t sure how I’d keep Ivy safe.

“I have to ask you something before I start,” Barry said. “Uncovering crucial evidence that could prove or disprove Ivy’s innocence means you’re going against the CIA’s code. You do this, you risk your reputation and your career.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want the answers,” I replied.

“I need to hear that you’re willing to put that on the line.”

I could understand his need for explicit confirmation that I was willing to throw my career away in exchange for whatever he found.

Gladly. “I am.”

Ivy’s delicate hand slipped into mine, her warm touch instantly cooling my rage from a boil to a simmer, dissipating some of my panic.

Her presence alone was an ointment to my burned soul, and with a gentle nod of her head, she gave me the patience I needed to listen to what Barry had to say.

“First”—Barry pulled out a sheet of paper—“in analyzing the ‘communications’ between Ivy and Vosch, I had my guy analyze the digital footprint for signs of editing or inconsistencies. The data formatting suggests tampering, and”—Barry pulled out a time sheet from her hospital—“some of these alleged communications occurred at exact times when she was in the emergency room, treating patients. Now, I’ll admit this piece is a little thinner in terms of proof; one could argue she might have gone into a different room to have these communications, but when you put it together with the second thing we found, it takes shape.”

He laid down another sheet of paper.

“We found anomalies in the creation dates that do not align with the reported dates of the meetings she was supposedly a part of. For example, this photograph here was supposedly taken twelve days ago. But the metadata behind the photograph shows the image of Ivy is actually eight months old. Similar discrepancies were found in other photographs.”

Hope took flight in my ribs, Ivy’s hand squeezing mine.

“Now,” Barry continued, “that alone is bad enough, but he also found anomalies in the shadows and lighting that do not match the time of day or geographical location indicated. Finally, elements in the background conflict with known facts. For example, this building way back here”—Barry pointed to a building on the far-left side of the picture—“has been under construction for the last month. Yet, in this picture, the construction hasn’t started yet.”

“How would anyone not notice that?” I balked.

“It’s unlikely anyone would notice it unless they were specifically looking for these anomalies. Now, as for the financial records that show Ivy receiving payments from Vosch’s organization…”

Barry retrieved another piece of paper and set it on the table.

“There are inconsistencies in the dates of these transactions. If you track the source of these funds, it traces back to an entity solely created for the purpose of moving money. However”—Barry pointed at the ledger—“according to this, Ivy received payment as far back as 168 days ago. Now…”

Barry pulled out another piece of paper.

“If anyone had attempted to match this transaction against that entity, they would have found a match, so it looks legit. Would even past a first-level audit. But if they had dug deeper, they would have discovered that this entity did not exist 168 days ago when the first transaction appeared. It wasn’t created until four weeks ago.”

Holy shit.

Barry laid out the evidence across his desk, one piece of paper at a time. On the top row, the documents that had been analyzed, and on the bottom, the paper that disproved all of it.

“All of it is fabricated,” I deduced.

“Well, we haven’t gotten through all the files yet, but the ones we have gotten through are fabricated.”

Unbelievable. I knew this in my gut. All I should feel was euphoria, but something else rolled through me like an unstoppable thunderstorm.

Absolute, blinding rage.

“How did you figure all of this out so quickly?” I challenged.

He’d only had hours . I was hoping for one smoking gun that I could use to get the CIA to pause Ivy’s elimination order while we worked on the rest, but multiple smoking guns?

How could the CIA have been this reckless? If it only took Barry hours to prove her innocence, how much effort did they put into authenticating Ivy’s guilt in the first place?

“I have a highly specialized team of ex-CIA experts in digital forensics, data analysis, and investigations,” Barry explained. “They’re trained to quickly identify red flags and inconsistencies in evidence, using advanced software and AI-powered tools. We prioritized the most critical pieces that could prove the target’s innocence.”

Jesus.

“We didn’t have time to track the discrepancies further, to see if we can uncover who or when someone put this together, but we at least had time to show these parts were fabricated.”

“Why didn’t the CIA catch these issues?” I snarled. “Don’t they thoroughly vet evidence before ordering an assassination?”

Barry rubbed his jaw, clearly troubled. “Honestly, it doesn’t sit well with me either. If multiple pieces of evidence corroborated each other, they might not have dug deep enough. But it’s also possible this came from someone inside the CIA who knew how to push it through without raising flags.”

Internal. Ivy didn’t know anyone internal to the CIA, and even if she did…

“Why would someone go through this much trouble to kill one woman?”

I snapped my hand from Ivy’s, pacing back and forth, too furious to hold still.

“Grayson…” Ivy’s voice pleaded. “This is good news.”

She was right. So, why didn’t it feel good?

“You can take this to the CIA and get her name cleared,” Hunter added.

“Will you be able to figure out who did this?” I stabbed my finger at one of the pieces of paper.

Barry’s demeanor remained calm. “I’m not sure.”

“Will you try ?”

“Grayson,” Ivy said gently.

But maybe she wasn’t understanding the problem here. Sure, this was a big win—I could take this evidence to Daniel and prove Ivy’s innocence with regard to the CIA, but it still didn’t answer the most important question—who had done this? Whoever it was had gone to a lot of trouble to try to eliminate Ivy, and I had no idea why.

While this proof of manufactured evidence would protect Ivy from the CIA, that would not protect her from whoever was doing this.

Until we knew who was behind this, there was a good chance they’d try again.

And then we had the second complication this created.

By comparison to Ivy’s life, a secondary issue, but a horrific one all the same.

“What if this isn’t the first time someone manufactured evidence like this?” I dedicated my life to eradicating the earth of monsters who took the lives of innocents. “Does this mean it’s possible the CIA could have purposefully terminated innocent people before?”

More to the point, had I killed innocent people?

“Manufacturing evidence against someone isn’t impossible,” Barry allowed. “Evidence like this is so compelling that someone would need to work on disproving it in order to uncover these kinds of inconsistencies. And then follow those inconsistencies to an indisputable truth.”

My gut churned with both nausea and pain.

So, it was possible that in my years as a CIA operative, I might have killed innocent people? Not just collateral damage, but direct targets? One of them was almost Ivy herself.

That night that I broke into her house, if that light hadn’t hit her face at just the right time, I would’ve ended her life before I even realized who she was.

Luck. That was the only reason Ivy was still alive today.

I stared at the evidence blanketing Hunter’s desk.

“Do whatever you have to do to find out who did this and how they got this evidence past the CIA.” My tone was harsher than intended, but Barry’s impassive expression showed he understood. He knew my anger wasn’t directed at him.

Barry’s attention swept across the documents again. “I’ll need some time. Unfortunately, I was in the middle of the case when you called, and I already did a favor for Hunter by prioritizing your case over?—”

“I’ll pay you triple whatever that person is paying,” I interrupted. More. All my money, if that’s what it took.

“It’s not just about the money, Grayson.” Barry rubbed this side of his face. “Every person’s crisis is important to them.”

“But Ivy’s life is in danger.”

Barry slid his hands into his pockets, evaluating me with pity.

“You used to work for the CIA.” I stepped forward. “You know as well as I do that when you join this organization, it’s predicated on one unbreakable oath—that you’re working for the good of this country, to protect its citizens.”

I let my words sink in.

“I was sent to end an innocent woman,” I disclosed.

Barry’s stare swept to Ivy, then back to me, a small crease appearing between his eyebrows. Until this moment, he didn’t know I was an assassin.

If he was shocked, he hid it well.

“She’s innocent. And if I can’t figure out who’s responsible for this, they could send agents to end other innocent people.”

Barry studied me for several seconds, then looked down at the ground, as if it would give us the answers we needed.

“I can have some of my guys take over my other case for a day or two,” Barry hedged.

The pile of bricks pressing down on my ribs lightened slightly.

“I’ll do some digging,” Barry continued. “But it won’t be easy, and there are no guarantees I’ll get any answers.”

“All I ask is that you try.”

Barry nodded slightly. “I’ll try.”

Thank God. If he found all this within hours, maybe we wouldn’t have to wait that long to get answers. He seemed to evaluate me—his focus darting to the hair I’d run my fingers through one too many times, the dark circles that were undoubtedly under my eyes. Surely, he could see the toll this was taking on me—the fear for Ivy’s life etched in every line of my face.

“If it gives you any comfort,” Barry started, “I suspect you have one thing going for you right now. At least in the short-term.”

Well, thank God we might have one thing going for us, because the rest of the damn universe seemed to be stacked against us.

“What’s that?” I challenged.

“The CIA assigned you to end her.” Barry glanced at Ivy, then back to me. “So, whoever is behind this is under the impression that the situation is getting taken care of.”

Situation. Ivy’s life. What a shitty way to put it.

I clenched my fists at my sides. “That won’t last long.”

“No, it won’t.” Barry looked at the wooden floor again. “Do you trust your handler?”

“I don’t trust anyone right now.”

“Allow me to rephrase. Did you find anyone trustworthy in the CIA before this happened?”

Like a naive child, I had trusted everyone in the CIA. Goddammit, I would beat myself up for that later, but right now, I needed to focus.

“Seth. And Daniel.”

“Do you have any reason to suspect they would go along with a plan to end an innocent civilian?”

“No,” I said. “If they knew we were targeting an innocent civilian, they would push back.”

“Good.” Barry picked up one sheet and handed it to me. “Take this to them both. This lays out the proof the evidence was manufactured and that Ivy is innocent. Your handler needs to launch an internal investigation to find out who provided this evidence. Seth and Daniel will both be your witnesses that you presented it. Whoever received this evidence needs to reveal the source. I’ll try to do digging on my end with some old contacts I have, but that’s your best option with finding out whoever the hell did this.”

I took it from him. A simple 8.5 x 11 sheet of paper seemed inadequate when the black font on the page held the key to saving Ivy’s life.