Page 37 of Aftermath
I moved closer, observing the way she seemed lost in thought. I caught a glimpse of her face, and something clicked. Her brows were pulled together, and her lips pressed into a thin line. Concern shadowed her gaze.
I expected to find confusion or curiosity, not this.
My mind immediately fell into its usual pattern of pulling every piece of information I had together. Every conversation, bit of evidence, and emotion I’d seen from Lenore about the Jane Doe—it all started to fall into place. There was only one explanation, even though I had been blind to it initially. I cursed under my breath at not getting there faster.
I’ve lost my touch.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” I asked, and she startled.
“What?” She turned, a new panicked look in her eyes.
“Jane Doe,” I said gently.
“No,” she whispered and shook her head. “You’re mistaken.”
I took a step closer and reached out to place a hand on her shoulder.
She tensed at my touch.Her head turned to meet me half way as I moved beside her. That look of panic melted into sadness.“Don’t-” she started.
I hated to push. I knew what it was like when everyone expected you to share.“When I joined the FBI, I had never once been on a team. I preferred solitude in my projects. I didn’t see a need to rope others in,” I started.
Her brows pulled in, but she absorbed every word I said.
“When I was placed on a team, I was forced to find a way to make it work. If I wanted to see becoming an agent through, teamwork wasn’t optional. So, I did the only thing my brain knew how,” I explained.
I wanted to slow my story, make it last forever as I saw the way Lenore’s gaze settled on me. Her dark eyes glanced over me, and I watched her guard slowly falling. She listened, truly listened.
Each word I spoke, I watched her mind race. I knew I was right about her, and the way her mind spun right in front of me confirmed it.
“What?” she pushed.
“I analyzed my own team. I made files for each person and filled them with strengths and weaknesses, ways I thought I could compliment working with agents and ones I needed to problem solve.”
Her eyes darted back to the wall at my pause.
“Blythe told me it was something a stalker may do,” I laughed softly. “She was right, as always, but it’s how my mind works. I analyze things until I make sense of them.”
She tensed, turning back and shying away from me, like I may just crack open every secret she ever held.
“And you know what doesn’t make sense to me?” I asked. “Your research.”
“My research is thorough,” she argued, scowling. Her eyes crinkled, and I held back a smile at the look of pure confidence that washed over her while challenging me.
She was everything I wished for in the agents who went through Quantico. I’d waited months to find someone who could replace me, someone who could challenge me, who could think just as analytically.
Len had a ways to go if she were to ever chose that path, but I’d found my match in this woman.
Not that Len would ever wish to become an agent, but maybe she could be more help than I had planned after all.
“I don’t doubt that,” I said. “But you are omitting one key piece.”
“I gave you everything I have,” she said and crossed her arms.She was putting that guard right back up.
“Do you know who the only person on my team without a file was?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Myself,” I answered and watched the realization wash over her. The ruse was up, and now, it was her move.
