“Why did you put me on the case?”
He appeared surprised by my question, and maybe a little worried. “It wasn’t my idea. I mean, I’d have you assist from the office, but not a principal. Not Hennessey’s partner.”
A force was welling up inside me, like a tidal wave, already cresting with frothy white foam. “Why then?”
Brody ran a hand over his face. He looked suddenly exhausted and a thousand years old. This job had taken its toll. Was that me in thirty years?
“The decision came from above my pay grade.” His shoulders slumped. “They’ll deny it now that it all went to hell.”
“Why me? Because I looked like her, like Mia? Because I was his type?”
Confusion clouded Brody’s expression. “Looked like who?” He shook his head. “Because of your past. We shouldn’t have used that. If anything, we should have been mitigating the risk, not putting you directly in its path.”
“I don’t understand. What does my past have to do with…”
In truth, I knew the connections all too well. The invisible lines connecting the past to the present were deep and well-trodden grooves. But the FBI didn’t know how much I struggled with my past. And they really didn’t care.
“Because you would get the job done.” Brody spoke as if it were obvious. “We’ve had problems with agents turning to the other side. Getting duped. They meet someone new, make a new friend…next thing we know they’re moving to Alaska and switching professions. They’re out of contact. They’re susceptible. A weak point. Too many fucking weak points.”
“And I’m not weak,” I said, disbelieving.
“You’re ambitious. That’s what all your professors said. Driven. Fearless.”
God. Those professors thought I was ambitious because I slept with them. Driven. Fearless. Only that hadn’t been why at all. I aced those tests without their help, because I knew every word of every textbook. I’d slept with them because of my own brokenness, like tracing the fault lines over my body with their grasping hands.
“Top of your class,” Brody continued. “You can outrun and outshoot every one of your male counterparts.”
“So I’m…what? A secret weapon? A Trojan horse that no one would suspect of being deadly?” A living weapon, specially groomed by the FBI academy.
“Yes.” He laughed, and the sound sent chills down my spine. “Exactly that. Heartless. You wouldn’t be swayed by a bribe or intimidated by some crony of his.”
I hadn’t been bribed or intimidated by a crony of his; I’d been seduced by the man himself. I’d fallen in love with him.
Heartless.
They didn’t know me at all. That was as good a reason to betray them as any. I let him stew for a few tense moments before putting him out of his misery. “Don’t worry. I’ll sign off on whatever story you put out.”
He sighed in clear relief that the department’s secrets would be safe.
In fact, he had no idea how safe. The good little girl had nodded her head. Anything for approval. I would bury this secret beside all the deeper, darker secrets that I’d guard with my life. Like the true identity of Ian Hennessey. Like the fact that Carlos was alive and well—and currently lounging in my house.
I was going to keep him from killing ever again. Wasn’t that enough? It was more than Brody could have done without my help. Maybe I had lived up to all that Trojan horse potential after all.
Brody was still talking. “Great, so in six weeks, you can call the office and make an appointment to come in for another psych eval. I’m sure you’ll get an all clear at that point. Once you’ve been on the job for a few months, I’ll be happy to reward you for your dedication and effort to the cause. I just can’t make it too close together, you see. I can’t have anyone wondering about your leave of absence and the promotion right after, you understand.”
“Right.” My voice was flat. “It would probably be a good idea if you didn’t speak to me again. So that no one gets the wrong idea.”
His face lit up. “Yes, exactly. It’s a plan. Thank you, Samantha. I knew you’d understand.”
I turned to leave. At the top of the bank, I looked back. “Oh, and Brody?”
He waited expectantly.
“I quit.”
*
When I got back to the house, the savory aroma of eggs and bacon greeted me. I paused in the doorway, unable to fully comprehend the sight of him cooking breakfast in my kitchen. Neither Carlos nor Hennessey was suited to this role. Lover. Companion. But this man, he was still an unknown quantity. It suited him to have a new name. I called him Ian, and for me, now, that was who he was.
“Are you going to come in?” He sounded amused.