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master at restraint—and well equipped at controlling all in his domain, including Paul Johnson.
    He raised a warning hand. “Don’t ever do that again.”
    Paul shifted his weight from foot to foot, swiped at his left temple. “I know I’m not supposed to interrupt when strangers—”
    “Guests. They’re my guests, not strangers. I invited them to my home for dinner. Normal people do that.”
    “Oh.” Paul didn’t seem to grasp the concept or to take offense at not being considered normal. “Guests.”
    “Yes.” Now the man was twitching. The entire left side of his face went into a series of spasms that almost knocked his black-framed glasses off his nose. Before he went into a full spasmodic meltdown, Gregory diverted Paul’s attention with a question. “What is the problem?”
    No answer.
    Gregory swallowed hard, seeking patience. Upset, Paul would literally blank out. Under certain circumstances that trait could be an asset, but now wasn’t the time. “You came into the dining room and said we have a problem. What kind of problem is it?”
    Comprehension dawned and Paul’s expression darkened, knitting his thick brows and bunching the skin between them into creases. “A big one, sir. You said if anything came up on this matter to inform you right away. Something has come up, so I’m informing you.”
    No doubt Gregory had issued that directive, but he had issued similar instructions on various potential hazards. Without details, he couldn’t pinpoint this specific one. For the sake of efficiency and his growling stomach, he asked, “What exactly is the problem?”
    “An anonymous phone call came in. No way to trace it—throwaway cell.” Paul walked over to the desk phone. “You need to hear it.”
    The only anonymous calls he received were from Alik Demyan and related to NINA. True, some of those were enough to turn his hair gray, but anything else doing it was doubtful. Gregory reached for the speaker button.
    “No!” Paul shifted his weight on his feet. “Pick it up, sir.”
    “The room is soundproof, Paul.”
    “Yes sir. But we always minimize risks. Especially when the house is full of strangers.” He caught himself. Squinted. Winced. “I meant,
guests
. The house is full of
guests.”
    Gregory lifted the receiver but paused to listen to Paul mutter, “The minute her aunt died, I knew there would be trouble. She just had to record that deed on the beach house.”
    That deed had been instrumental in locating her. Gregory put two and two together. “So the subject rejected our purchase offer.”
    “Yes sir.” Paul rubbed his neck. “If you’ll recall, I projected less than five percent odds of success.”
    “Her advisor?”
    “Ineffectual.” Paul adjusted the frame of his glasses at the bridge of his scrunched nose. “He hasn’t had much influence with her since she took over her own affairs.”
    Couldn’t dispute that. Even he had been unable to locate her. Gregory stilled, considered his options.
    “She won’t stay away now,” Paul projected. “The temptation will be too strong to resist.”
    “Why? She hasn’t been back here even once.”
    “But she knew her aunt was here. Now she’s not, and all the subject has left of her childhood is in that beach house.”
    Gregory shrugged. “But it’s just a shack.”
    “Not to her.” Paul peered over the tops of his glasses.
    The subject was well off. She wasn’t homeless. Why would the shack mean anything to her?
    “It’s all she has left of her family.”
    “Ah, memories.” The light dawned.
Foolish, sentimental dead weight
.
    Paul’s expression turned uncharacteristically tender. “I suspected she’d hidden to protect herself, but her refusing the purchase offer disputes that. She was protecting her aunt.”
    “Now it all makes sense.” Gregory rubbed his lower lip. “She knows everything we feared she might know.”
    “Maybe not all of it.” Paul seated his glasses at the bridge of his nose. “But more