“He’s my prisoner.”
“Count your blessings,” said Bell. She had a remoteness, a chilly aspect to her nature that probably helped her sleep at night. Heat wanted to bring her to human level.
“You don’t need to tell me to feel blessed.” She holstered her weapon. “I thought I’d lost him.”
“I tried to spike this as soon as I learned about it, Nikki.”
“You think that’s good enough? Not for me. Not after all this. Not after what it did to him and to me.”
Yardley spoke to Nikki pleadingly. “This is me making it right.”
“This is you making it right for yourself.” Nikki stepped closer. “People don’t just ‘go rogue’ for laughs. Somebody sanctioned your man’s operation. Who? Tangier Swift? Congressman Duer?”
“That is classified. National security.”
“OK, fine,” said Rook. “Off the record.”
“Look, obviously I made a mistake in coming here.”
“Seems like it,” said Heat.
The air went out of the conversation. The three of them stood there in a triangle, each feeling equally unfulfilled: Heat and Rook wanting hard answers, Yardley Bell wanting to be let off the hook emotionally.
“So.” Rook gave his ex an appraising glance and softened. “You did all this—and put an end to the whatever operation, doing what you could to help me from the shadows.”
“Yes!” Yardley’s face brightened, and she took a half step to him. A bubble of jealousy surfaced in Nikki’s gut. Irrational, she knew, but whatever connection these two still had, however distant, she wasn’t eager to see it dramatized before her.
Rook said, “That is so…” He hesitated, searching for the word. Nikki thought he would say thoughtful, or caring, or maybe just cool. He surprised her—and Yardley. “Bullshit.”
Bell’s eyes, usually so fully under her control, widened. “Jamie? How can you say that to me?”
“Because it’s true. You said you came here to make me feel safe. No, you’re only here hoping to soothe your conscience, and know what? I’m not sure you even have access to it.” In his agitation, he started to pace. “This is why we never made the long haul, you know that. The way you always keep a safe distance from anything. You held back from us, from your job—”
“Not this again.”
“Yes this again, because you still haven’t changed. Why? Because owning means risk.”
Heat didn’t know whether to enjoy this or not. His words had exposed an intimacy she might regret witnessing. Especially when he waved his free arm in her direction.
“Ask Nikki about risk. And I’m not talking about courage. You have lots of that, Yards. I’m talking about the kind of risk where you go all in. No playing the margins or having, I dunno, an escape hatch of deniability.” He paused and rubbed his upper arm through the sling. “Listen, I’m not trying to hurt you or work out our baggage. I just wish…I just wish you cared more. If not for yourself, for what the job really is. And I don’t mean career. I mean why we really do what we do.” He cast a look at Nikki before he continued. “I interviewed a dad who lost his wife and a four-year-old who thought he was going for a ride with his family to visit the grandparents. But their car had a freak rollover caused by a defect in the stability-control software. You can guess what happened to them. They’re the job. At least for some of us.”
Yardley swallowed loud enough for Nikki to hear it. “I can’t go on the record. I’d lose my security clearance. Everything.”
“I get it.” He half smiled. “Anyway, thanks for telling me I’m safe. Look at us. We’re all safe, right?”
Then Agent Bell said, “But I will speak off the record.” As Heat and Rook traded surprised looks, she continued. “I’ve seen you do that before with unnamed sources. You’d protect me, right?”