York was watching the security agent behind Grey, and at Logan’s words, his expression turned markedly concerned. He drew in a breath.

Grey turned and looked at him. “Marcus, do you know anything about this?”

Marcus was a younger man, mid-thirties, blond, wide-shouldered, a marine. He shook his head. “I’m sorry sir, no.”

“What did you do with your key card when you left the hotel,” Logan asked, easy, just a question.

“I still have mine,” he said and then pulled it out of his jacket pocket. “I never turn them in, in case we need quick access.” He handed them the card. “Why?”

“We’re just trying to find out who might have had access to the room,” Logan said, and it sounded like a reasonable explanation.

“Just us, and Director Grey. Even housekeeping is supervised. Duncan might know. He’s in the hallway.”

Duncan. Logan looked at Roy, who got up to do that very thing.

“We’re still looking into the details of the bombing,” Logan said, clearly leaving out the key card. He turned back to Grey. “Meanwhile, we aren’t sure you’re not being targeted.”

“Why?”

“We don’t know. But it seems as though the former CDC director’s death might not have been an accident.”

Director Grey swallowed. “Who would want to kill me? I’m no one.”

“Clearly, you’re someone,” Logan said. “You have the ear of the president, if you need it, and you control the protocols for any large-scale biological attack on our country.”

Grey stilled. “What do you want me to do?”

Those words York didn’t expect. Maybe Logan didn’t either because he looked at York.

A beat, and then Logan said, “Don’t go to the ball.”

“No,” said RJ. She took a step toward the group. “He needs to go.”

York looked at her.

“If he goes, then maybe we can figure out who is behind this.”

“Surely you’re not suggesting that Director Grey be bait,” said Marcus. “I’m afraid we can’t allow that.”

Grey held up his hand. “Actually Marcus, you’re not the only one who served this country in the military.” He turned to York. “I’ll do it.”

“No,” RJ said. “It doesn’t have to be that dangerous. Go to the ball, yes. I know there is a VIP receiving line. And after everyone gets a good look at you in your costume, we change you out with…someone else.”

And that’s when she looked at York. Smiled.

A tiny chill went through him. What—?

Logan looked at him, his mouth a grim line. “You’re about the same height. And you can dye your hair.”

“You’ll need a date, of course, and before that happens, I’ll be there, watching the crowd —”

“No. No way.” York turned to her. “Absolutely —”

“I’ll be fine. And you’ll be fine. Because Roy and Logan will be there, on overwatch.”