Norwood knew he needed to get to his computer and distribute the five hundred thousand dollars in Bitcoins before the partners disregarded their plan to stay separate and came after him. But the delay would be forgiven when he told them what he’d found.

He walked to the kitchen, started coffee brewing, and then opened his laptop and logged on to the cryptocurrency site he used for his transactions. It took only a few minutes to empty the virtual wallet he’d used the previous night into the three new ones he and his team had each created. They’d shared wallet addresses but not their private keys. Once he sent the coins, only the wallet owner could access them. It was very simple and ultra-secure, but with one frightening exception—lose your key, lose your money.

Norwood sent a message of his own:

Sorry for delay. Done. Need second satchel for return. Most importantly, I know location of Parker money.

As he expected, the response was immediate.

Parker? Have key? Need to talk!

Then a message that shocked him:

Secret Service has currency. Can link. Work Parker but lay low.

Norwood quickly replied:

Nothing links us. But Parker wallet on Finch computer confirms suspicions. Key might be hidden on phone or laptop. Or physical somewhere. Investigators might find first. Lay low, but be ready to move fast.

Norwood poured his coffee and assessed the situation. He wished now he hadn’t destroyed Finch’s phone. He’d have to go through every file on the laptop looking for a string of characters that could be the key. But that key could as easily be written on a scrap of paper and tucked between pages of a book. That meant a physical search of Finch’s office or home.

He put his money on home.

Chapter 19

Although Ethel and Jesse wore headsets for communication, the noise of the engine discouraged lengthy conversation. But there was plenty to see. Unlike commercial airline pilots cruising above thirty thousand feet, Ethel maintained an altitude that kept cars, houses, and farms distinguishable, as if viewing the detailed scale layout of a model railroader. The clear fall air extended the horizon, and Jesse could make out the Shenandoah Mountain range rising up on his right.

After about forty minutes, Ethel said, “We’re getting close. I’ll circle the runway once before landing.”

Pete Varner was mucking out a stable stall when he heard the buzz of an approaching plane. He quickly slipped out of his rubber boots, washed his hands in a work sink, and crossed the grassy runway to where he’d parked his Ford Explorer.