Page 70 of The Pretenders of Copper County
“Construction!” Gage whispered again, so loud I had to pull the phone away. “Knox, he said construction.”
“Shhh,” Knox insisted.
“That’s cool!” Derry said, happily unaware that he was the wrecking ball single-handedly dismantling a wall fifteen years in the making. “Oh, hey, Thursday night, a bunch of us are going out to Bennett Graham’s house to watch the Draconid meteor shower. He’s got an observatory at his house—or, like,inhis house, actually—and it’s kind of a Copper Country tradition for some of the families who live around the lake to head over there. Maybe you and Chris want to come, if you’re not too busy doing, ah… honeymoon stuff.”
“Honeymoon! Knox, did you hear?—?”
“Baby, despite my advanced age, my ears do still work,” Knox hissed. “I don’t know what any of itmeans, but I hear.”
“Derry,” I said desperately, gesturing with my phone again. “I’m a little busy.”
“Right!Right. Sorry.” With another cheerful smile, he stepped away, and I turned my mind toward damage control.
“Except before I go…” Derry turned back around. “I just gotta say, it kicked ass the way you jumped in the lake to save your husband the other day. Like, seriouslysoimpressive, man. Like you were his bodyguard or Navy SEAL or something.”
“I’m, uh, definitely not a SEAL. I just… you know…”
“Love him?” Derry smirked. “I can tell.”
“I…” I opened my mouth to deny it, then closed it again. “He’s special,” I said in a whisper.
“Sure. Anyway, see you!” This time, Derry finally did lope off… about a minute too late.
“Hooooly shit, Knox,” Gage whispered. “Holy shit.”
“That about sums it up,” Knox agreed. “Reed, when you said you had things to tell us…”
“Yeah.” I tilted my head back and glanced up at the sky. White, puffy clouds shifted by, heedless of the destruction below. “But I can’t tell you anything right now, Knox.”
“Youcan’t?” he repeated slowly. “Or you don’t want to?”
I swallowed hard. “Can’t,” I said, though I knew this admission, coming on the heels of Norm’s accusations and Derry’s revelations—“like you were his bodyguard”—would pretty much kill any idea of me being a mild-mannered think-tank accountant.
There was no Division requirement that my family couldn’t know what I did for a living, as long as I didn’t share details. It had beenmychoice to keep my two lives separate. But I couldn’t discuss the details of an ongoing assignment, so I couldn’t open the door any further than I already had right now.
Nervously, I awaited Knox’s judgment and anger over my lies.
But when he spoke again, all he said was, “Jesus fucking Christ. Porter was right, wasn’t he? That fucker bet me a hundred bucks you were some kind of secretagent back when he was fourteen, and now I’m gonna owe him, with interest. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
I didn’t know what to say,so I remained silent.
“Right,” Knox went on, all no-nonsense now. “Look, we won’t tell a soul about this conversation?—”
“Agreed,” Gage said readily.
“—and I don’t expect you’ll ever be able to tell us anything, but you’d better tell us what you canwhenyou can… and soon. Otherwise, I’ll hunt you down, Reed. Don’t think I won’t. I’m still your big brother.”
“I know you are.” My voice came out scratchy and weak, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “I’ll call.”
“Good. You better fucking take care of yourself, too,” he demanded.
“And take care ofyour husband,” Gage said gleefully. “Maybe include him on the call, also, hmm?”
After we said goodbye, I hung up and blew out a breath I’d been holding for fifteen years. I slid my phone into my pocket unsteadily.
The trouble with letting people believe you’re someone you’re not is that eventually, it feels impossible to correct them… to even know how to begin. I’d started out keeping my job a secret, compartmentalized and tucked away, but I’d told myself it was no big deal because I was protecting my real life—my family—from my work. Gradually, though, my work had taken larger and larger chunks of my time and focus. Had become my life. I’d been so deeply committed to beingAgentSunday that I’d forgotten whoReedSunday was.
Until now.
