“It was supposed to be a surprise, but you’ll find out soon enough.” Everett made a grandiose gesture. “Your father is on his way here for New Year’s Eve.”

“Really?”

“I called and invited him. I wasn’t wrong to do that, was I?”

Rachel threw her arms around Everett and gave him a big hug.

“You’re the best uncle ever!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he said. “But we should get the garret ready.”

“The garret?”

Her uncle pointed toward the ceiling. “The apartment in the attic. It’s where the two of us stayed when we were boys. I thought it might make him feel at home.”

“Sounds like a splendid idea,” said Rachel. “How can I help?”

Frankel had paused the movie again at the intermission and was getting another bottle of Fiji water at a nearby kiosk when his cell rang.

He quickly pulled it from his pocket—hoping it might be Rachel.

One look at the caller ID told him it wasn’t—but he answered right away.

“Austin?”

“I took the chance I’d catch you before your plane left,” said Grant.

“It got delayed a few hours,” Frankel told him. “What’s going on?”

He took a seat halfway through Grant’s dumbfounding download because he wasn’t sure his legs could support him under the weight of what the commander was telling him.

Everett Grant was who they’d been looking for all along.

As insane as that sounded, there were certain things Frankel realized he couldn’t deny and was already kicking himself about. Starting with the fact that Everett put his brother onto the Old Testament tie-in to the murders.

“You’ll come to Zermatt with me?” Grant asked.

“Do you even have to ask?”

They were going after Rachel.

He could hear Grant telling the cab driver the quickest way to Heathrow. “I should be there in forty minutes,” Grant said after giving him the Swiss Air info.

“I’ll have my ticket and meet you at the gate.”

“Thank you, John.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” responded Frankel. “Did Everett give you a clue as to who he’s going after?”

“Nothing specific,” said Grant. “All he said was ‘X marks the spot.’”

X marks the spot, thought Frankel.

Something about that.

X marks the spot.

“John? Are you still there?”

But Frankel was barely hearing him. He was flashing on the puzzle he had been helping Claire with an hour ago and the thing that had been bothering him.

Hidden Figures and Numbers.

“John . . .?”

And suddenly he had it. Oh shit.

“I’ll call you right back, Austin. Five minutes.”

Before Grant could protest, Frankel hung up and went back to his laptop.

Rachel went up the steps to the attic, her arms laden with a fresh set of sheets, blankets, and pillows.