As he read over the details of the initial design, a name on the original team popped out at him.

“What the—?”

Daniel switched between screens, his heart suddenly thumping with enough bass to rival every track on Dr. Dre’s The Chronic album.

“No way,” he whispered.

He looked over each shoulder to make sure he was alone, then pulled out his tablet and clicked on the folder that contained the dossiers he’d been briefed with before starting at Trendsetters. He scanned the file names and, once he found the one he was looking for, tapped to open it. The work history section went back only two and a half years. FinCEN had gathered as much information on Trendsetters’ employees as possible, but he’d been told before leaving Virginia that some files were incomplete.

“I’ll be a son of a bitch,” Daniel whispered. Why hadn’t he made this connection?

He shut down his computer, quickly packed up his gear, and left the office, all thoughts of avoiding Quentin forgotten. If the man still wanted to rail at him over his relationship with Samiah, he could do it once he and Daniel talked through this newest revelation.

When he opened the door to the apartment, he found Quentin in his usual spot, on the sofa surrounded by files and reports.

“Well, well, well,” Quentin sang, his eyes still on his case files. “Look who decided to make an appearance.”

“Mike Epsen worked on the Hughes Hospitality account when it first came to Trendsetters.”

Quentin set the file folder on the sofa and turned. “Isn’t that the guy who got hit while riding his bicycle? The one whose place you took on that new project?”

Daniel nodded as he walked over to him and handed him the iPad with Mike’s dossier.

“Hughes Hospitality had been on FinCEN’s radar for months, but it was an anonymous tip that drew our attention to the Trendsetters connection. Dwyer said the tipster kept in regular contact, never revealing himself or a name, just making sure they knew the laundering was still going on. About two weeks ago the tips stopped coming. Just went completely dark.”

“Around the same time Mike Epsen’s bicycle had an unfortunate meeting with the front fender of that bus,” Quentin said. “But, seriously, do you think a city bus driver is somehow connected to this?”

“No, the bus driver wasn’t at fault.” Daniel shook his head. “Didn’t I tell you? I got the whole story a couple of days after the accident. A car encroached on the bike lane, which caused Mike to swerve into the bus. But the driver of the car never stopped. Everyone has been going on the assumption that the person driving the car was texting or distracted in some way and just didn’t see what happened. But now?”