4
Jensen watched Jason Amurri sit for his photograph. He appeared upbeat about it, but Jensen sensed an undercurrent of unease.
Why? This was a unique privilege—one that Jensen had been against, but he'd been overruled—so why wasn't Amurri happy?
Just one more thing about this guy that didn't add up. He was supposed to be some kind of rich loner, but he didn't move like a guy who'd grown up deciding which silver spoon to put in his mouth. And his eyes… they didn't miss a thing. Jensen was sure he'd spotted some of the video pickups, maybe all of them, but he hadn't asked about them.
Of course he might have expected them as part of the security system, but wouldn't a guy so hooked on privacy have made some sort of squawk?
Then again, maybe Jensen was wrong. Maybe Amurri hadn't spotted the pickups.
Still, he was getting an itch about this guy—no red-flashing alarms or anything like that, just a feeling that something wasn't quite what it seemed.
He wouldn't tell Brady yet. The boss saw dollar signs when he looked at Amurri and would brush off Jensen's suspicions. So right now he'd keep them to himself and have Margiotta do a little more digging. And maybe have Peary follow him again.
Scratch an itch and sometimes you find a chigger.