He would know her better than she knew herself before he was done. The first level was basic. Her date and place of birth, her parents and siblings, her husband and children. Her work record. It jibed with what she'd told him, but he'd expected that. A good con required a good foundation, didn't it? Who knew that better than he did? She had to be lying. Had to be, because if she wasn't... Pain and panic crashed in his gut. He bore down, stared at the data on-screen. She had to be lying, and that was that. He only had to find the first chink, and the rest of her fanciful story would crumble. As the layers peeled away, he studied her medical records, her financials, and those of her family. With a deadly calm he stripped away her privacy, and that of everyone connected to her. It took him a full hour and he found nothing that sent up a flag. He got more coffee, settled himself again, then spoke the command he'd hoped to avoid.
