Read Crown's Vengeance, The for Free Online

Hamilton was the architect of America’s financial system, if I’m not mistaken. Why would he be involved with espionage?”
    Erika slid onto a stool across the table, hands moving rapidly as she lectured.
    “It wasn’t uncommon for government figures to wear multiple hats in those days. Kind of like a small business, there were only a few men who were intimately involved with each aspect of our nation’s development. Hamilton was the go-to guy for financial matters, but there’s no reason he couldn’t also have worked in espionage, especially if it involved money or financial policy in any way.”
    “A renaissance man of sorts.”
    “Correct. Look at Benjamin Franklin. He was a diplomat who founded the US Postal Service. There’s no reason Hamilton couldn’t multi-task.”
    Viability established, Parker focused on the next big question.
    “Assuming Hamilton and Revere worked together as spies, we still have no idea what Revere is talking about. Any idea about what kind of infiltration he discovered?”
    “I’m glad you asked,” Erika responded.
    Without explanation, she jumped up and went back into her bedroom, bare feet moving silently across the bamboo floors, only to re-emerge with her laptop.
    “I haven’t done a thing over the past twenty-four hours but analyze this letter.”
    Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she spoke.
    “Regarding your question, I don’t know what kind of plan Revere is talking about. There’s nothing out there, at least anything substantiated, that refers to or discusses a British spy infiltrating America’s government immediately following the Revolution. Now, is that because the British never tried, or because they were never caught? I don’t know.”
    With a flourish, she flipped her screen around for him to see.
    “What I did find, however, is going to blow your mind.”
    On the screen was a snapshot of the interior of a room with wooden floors and walls. A brick fireplace sat in one corner, near a small table surrounded by four wooden chairs. Against the far wall sat a bureau, stained to a deep shade of brown.
    “This is a receiving room inside of Paul Revere’s house. The structure still stands and contains quite a few pieces that date from when Revere lived there. It’s a museum now.”
    “Why am I looking at Paul Revere’s living room?”
    His question was met with a mischievous grin.
    “The answer’s in front of your face.”
    If that was how she wanted to play it, fine. He scoured the room’s contents for any clues. Every piece of furniture appeared to be hand-hewn, worn, but crafted to last.
    He recalled a phrase from Revere’s letter. “All right, clearly I need to find two arrows that can be shot at each other.”
    The reference contained in Revere’s report wasn’t even hidden. Unfortunately, no bows or winged munitions presented themselves.
    “Am I missing his hunting gear?”
    “It’s not that simple, but you’re on the right track.”
    Of course it wouldn’t be. He began to search methodically, dividing the photo into quadrants and combing through each one before moving on. As he searched, Erika watched him intently, but he didn’t give her the satisfaction of displaying any frustration. On the last quadrant, his eyes narrowed.
    “What about this?”
    He enlarged the picture, focused on the single bureau. Six drawers filled the container’s center area, each decorated with several triangle-like designs turned on their side, which left each apex pointing to the drawer’s center.
    “These triangles that are pointing at each other kind of look like arrows.”
    One glance at her face was all it took. He’d found it.
    Erika hopped up from her chair and darted around the table.
    “These designs”-her fingers traced the page-“look exactly like arrows. And if you imagine they’re the points of an arrow, look what happens when you fire them.”
    Her two fingers crashed into each other, directly where the drawer’s knob sat. “I worried