“Do you always make it a practice to sleep until noon?” Agent Sterling asked, cocking her head to the side and giving me the once-over. Since I couldn’t make her stop studying me, I returned the favor. She was wearing makeup, but didn’t look made up. Like the clear coat of polish on her nails, the colors she’d chosen for her eyes and lips looked almost natural.
I wondered how much effort it took her to look that effortlessly perfect.
If you want to get close to an UNSUB, I could practically hear Locke telling me, don’t say she or her. Say you.
“You spent the night here?” I asked Sterling, rolling that over in my mind. Locke never slept here. Briggs doesn’t. You don’t do things halfway.
“There’s a pullout sofa in the study,” Judd told me, sounding mildly disgruntled. “I offered her my room, but Miss Stubborn refused to take it.”
Miss Stubborn? Before working for the Naturals program, Judd had been career military. I’d never heard him refer to any FBI agent by anything other than their title or last name. So why was he referring to Agent Sterling in the exact same tone I would have expected him to use with Lia?
“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed, Judd.” The twinge of exasperation in Agent Sterling’s voice told me they’d already had this argument at least twice.
“Sit down,” Judd grunted in return. “Both of you. Cassie hasn’t had anything to eat today, and I can make two sandwiches as easy as one.”
“I can make my own sandwich,” I said. Judd gave me a look. I sat. This was a side of him I hadn’t seen before. In a strange way, he almost reminded me of my very Italian grandmother, who thought I was off at some kind of progressive, government-sponsored gifted program. Nonna considered the putting of food in bellies one of her major missions in life, and woe be to the unfortunate soul who stood in her way.
“I already made myself a sandwich,” Agent Sterling said stiffly.
Judd made two sandwiches anyway. He slid one in front of me and put the other in front of an empty spot at the table before sitting down and resuming his crossword. He didn’t say a word, and after a long moment, Agent Sterling sat.
“Where are the others?” I asked Judd. Usually, I couldn’t spend five minutes in the kitchen without Lia coming in to swipe some ice cream, or Michael helping himself to food off my plate.
Agent Sterling was the one who answered. “Michael hasn’t made an appearance yet. Dean, Lia, and Sloane are in the living room, taking a practice GED.”
I almost choked on a bite of ham. “A what?”
“It’s September,” Agent Sterling replied, in that too-calm tone that I imagined made her very good at interrogating suspects. “If you weren’t a part of this program, you’d be in school. In fact, I’m fairly certain your family was told that you would be receiving schooling here. Some people might be willing to let that slide. I’m not.”
I got the distinct feeling that when Agent Sterling said “some people” she was talking about Agent Briggs, not Judd.
“You’re lucky enough to have a family who might actually check up on your schooling someday,” she continued. “Not everyone in this house is so fortunate, but you will all receive the education you were promised.” Her eyes flicked over to Judd, then back to me. “Dean and Lia have been homeschooled here for years. If Judd’s done his job right, they should be able to pass the GED. I’m not concerned about Sloane.”
That just left Michael and me. If it hadn’t been for the program, I would have started my senior year in high school this month.
“Take the practice test,” Sterling ordered in an offhand way that told me she was used to being obeyed. “If you need a tutor, we’ll get you a tutor, but either way, the other aspects of your…education can wait.”
In the time since I’d joined the program, I’d forgotten that there was a type of learning that didn’t involve the ins and outs of the criminal brain.
“Can I be excused?” I pushed back from the table.
Judd gave me an amused look. “You ever asked me that before?”
I took that as an answer and started for the door. Judd finished his crossword and turned his attention to Agent Sterling. “You going to eat your sandwich, Ronnie?”
Ronnie? My eyebrows shot into my hairline, and I slowed my exit. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Agent Sterling stiffen slightly at the nickname.
“It’s Veronica,” she said. “Or it’s Agent Sterling. In this house, it has to be.”
They know each other, I thought. They’ve known each other for a very long time.
It occurred to me then that Director Sterling might have chosen his daughter for this assignment for reasons other than the fact that she shared his blood.
I made it to the kitchen door just as it swung inward, nearly knocking me off my feet. Agent Briggs stood on the other side, looking like he’d just stepped off a plane. He reached out to steady me, but his gaze was directed elsewhere.
“Ronnie.”
“Briggs,” Agent Sterling returned, very pointedly not using his first name or any abbreviation thereof. “I assume the director briefed you.”
Briggs inclined his head slightly. “You could have called.”