Page 48 of The Saint

“Why not?”

“She hasn’t said exactly, but I think she doesn’t see the value in it.”

“Why do you?”

Camden pursed his lips and tossed the ball to himself. “It might give you some closure.”

Amelia chewed the inside of her cheek. “Because Hailey’s dead?”

“One of two distinct possibilities.”

“What’s her name?”

“Beth.”

Bethsounded like a reasonable name for a reasonable person. Amelia’s thoughts fast-tracked. “I could tell Beth I’m willing to help find Hailey. She could put me to work, maybe track down whatever they’re working on. I wouldn’t even hold it against them that they tried to ruin my life to cover up their mess.”

His grin hitched. “I can run that by her, but I don’t think it’s her call.” He set the football on the counter and eyed her uneaten oatmeal, which looked like gelatinous goo. “Let’s walk down to Mount Vernon Avenue for breakfast.”

As if on cue, her stomach grumbled. At least it was quiet enough that he wouldn’t have heard. Going out for breakfast was one hundred percent better than cold oatmeal and anything else their safe house might have stocked.

Amelia had learned several things about safe houses since her arrival. First, not every safe house was built like the ones in the movies. Theirs didn’t have a generator that kicked on, nor did it have a security system of laser beams and motion-activated security cameras. The doors and windows looked industrial-strength but weren’t hard to open. Second, the cabinets were packed with shelf-stable food that probably wouldn’t be a culinary delight. Third, many weapons and tactical things were shoved into and secured in various hidey-holes, crevices, and drawers. She’d never been inches away from a gun before and had no idea how many varieties of knives were available.

The bathroom mirror cabinet had bathroom-sized weapons just like the bedroom closet had closet-sized weapons. All of that, she learned after quickly snooping before getting ready and finding what was, according to her best guess, some kind of shotgun that could immobilize a rhino. It seemed to her that Camden could have mentioned the firepower casually shelvedwithin arm’s reach of probably every room. Then again, maybe it wasn’t something he thought much about.

They stepped out the front door, and Camden breathed in the crisp air that carried the scent of sunshine and cold weather. Sunbeams streamed through the bare trees. Wet leaves carpeted the street and sidewalks and were plastered over parked cars.

He placed a hand at the small of Amelia’s back as he guided her in the right direction. They meandered toward Mount Vernon Avenue. A light wind picked up as his phone buzzed in his pocket. Camden knew it would be Beth before he saw her name.

Beth:Who are you and how do you have so much influence over what I do?

After Amelia spitballed the idea of looking for Hailey, Camden had decided he wasn’t above asking for favors. That Boss Man enjoyed pulling rank over people at the CIA was simply a bonus. He held up his phone. “We have our meeting.”

Amelia stopped short. Her eyebrows arched. “With Beth?” Her smile made her dark eyes sparkle. “I knew she’d be open to help.”

“Openmight be a stretch, but she’s going to meet us.” He typed a short response to Beth. “We can get our breakfast to go.”

An hour later, Camden pulled into a Fairfax County neighborhood that looked ordinary and boring, and it was except for the CIA property at the end of a cul-de-sac.

“Here we are.” He slowed as the GPS announced their destination. Tall pine trees wrapped around the backyard of a small house intentionally made to be forgettable. Nothing about it was interesting nor ignored. The landscaping was generic, thegrass trimmed. The drapes hung closed, and the porch light was likely on a timer.

The house would have the lore of suburban gossip. Maybe neighbors recalled an older couple had once lived there. Perhaps the house had been stuck between two parties litigating an unending divorce. No one in the neighborhood would be able to remember names or faces, and more importantly, no one would ask questions because the HOA bills were paid on time and the grass never grew too long.

Camden’s black SUV with government plates would likely raise an eyebrow or two if anyone was home to notice. But it was the middle of the workday on a tiny cul-de-sac. Whoever saw his government plates would forget by the end of the day. He parked in the driveway next to Beth’s Lexus.

“Is Beth nice?” Amelia asked.

He considered. She presented herself as nice, but Amelia might not know what he meant. Camden decided to answer with a warning. “She’s a spook. Trained to manipulate people. So take anything she says and you feel with a grain of salt.”

“Do you trust her?”

He scoffed. “Absolutely fuckin’ not.”

Amelia laughed at his honesty. “All right, then. Good to know. Let’s meet Beth the Spook.”

From the moment he told Amelia about the meeting with Beth, she’d perked up. Amelia had walked faster, talked faster. Her cheeks had more color, and her voice had a hopeful edge that made him nervous. She wouldn’t get from Beth what she imagined she might. The urge to repeat his warning hung on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped short. Amelia would be able to see through Beth’s song and dance.

They approached the front door. He didn’t bother to knock and walked inside. “We’re here.”

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