Page 43 of Lone Spy

"Something like that."

"But did she blow up…" My mind wheels. That doesn't make sense.

"No. She took advantage of a situation. Which I would admire if it wasn't so short-sighted." A smile flickers at the edge of his lips. "She underestimated you."

"That guy was shooting at me. The other one was going to inject me with something."

"I think the driver panicked."

"You killed him."

"Something like that." Temperance's gaze drops back to my wound. He starts to apply some kind of cooling gel to it. I flinch but it actually helps. My arm is filthy except for the square of clean skin Temperance has created around the wound. The awareness of the grime awakens sensations—suddenly my skin is crawling.

"I need a shower," I say.

"After I bandage this you can clean up. Then we need to talk. Then I'll get you to the hospital."

"Ash is okay?" I ask again.

"Thanks to you," Temperance says without looking up. He lays a bandage on top of the burn, sealing the edges, then meets my gaze again. "You can take that shower now." He smiles gently.You’ll feel better after you clean up.

Temperance stands, and I follow him through the kitchen into a living room decorated in browns and beiges. He leads me up carpeted stairs and through the first door we reach.

Temperance flicks on the overhead lights, and a bedroom comes into focus. It's a nice size with a queen bed made up with white sheets. Blue scrubs lie neatly folded on the bench at its foot. "The bathroom is through there." Temperance gestures at a closed door to the left of the bed. “I put a layer of plastic on top of the bandage but be careful with it.”

I start to walk past him, and Temperance stops me with a hand on my bicep. I look up at him. We're standing close. His eyes have a new edge to them. The gentle healer from downstairs replaced by the calculating spy I’ve known all along. There is a sense of relief in that.

"The compass, Angela. Where is it?"

My brows raise. "What makes you think I have it?" I ask, infusing my voice with disbelief. Because it is ridiculous to assume that I have it on me considering what I've been through and my complete lack of pockets.

"You're good, Angela. We both know it. You have all the right instincts. And I'm betting a lot on knowing that you wouldn't let it out of your sight once you knew Linda wanted it."

I don't answer right away, my exhausted brain trying to decide what to do. It just keeps clicking over, coming up with nothing new. "Why does the compass matter so much?" I ask, my curiosity winning the talking contest.

Temperance cocks his head. "You really want to know?"

"Why wouldn’t I?"

His eyes graze over my face, searching for…I don't know what. "It contains a memory card loaded with evidence that can bring down Reginald Grand."

"Oh."

"Oh," Temperance echoes, a smile sliding into place.

ChapterEighteen

The hospital roomis private with a view of a courtyard garden. I'm standing next to the window, wearing two gowns—one open to the front, one to the back, so it's almost like I've got on one whole dress. But not. The nurse who greeted us took the scrubs Temperance gave me last night.

I’d traded a compass holding a memory card for a shower. That the card contains evidence that will bring down Reginald Grand seems like a false hope to me. There is already ample evidence he’s corrupt, but so what? His supporters only believe him.

That is how autocrats hold power—by convincing people they are the only source of truth. No contrary information can shatter that kind of belief. If anything, it further solidifies the leader’s support. In the end such blind fealty never turns out well, but that’s only in the long term.

Temperance didn’t give me any details of what he planned to do now with the compass and itskompromat.“Another time,” he promised. But I gave him the compass with its hidden information regardless. So when Linda comes back, she won't have anything to take from me.

“Tell her you lost it with your purse in the explosion,” Temperance advised. “Don't mention the ambulance ride. Or me. She won't bring it up because she can't link herself to the incident.”

The incident.

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