Page 103 of Only the Wicked
His right eye squints and his head shakes in the negative.
Right. The message couldn’t be clearer if he’d written it in skywriting.
“I understand.” I swallow down a mix of complicated emotions I’d rather not examine. “Purely professional.” I adjust my watch—my father’s old Cartier, the only personal item I never leave behind—recalibrate, reset boundaries. “The mission parameters have changed, but the objective remains the same.”
He studies me, and I maintain eye contact a beat longer than necessary. I’m speaking operational language now, but beneath it runs a current neither of us will acknowledge—that you can’t unfeel something just because it’s inconvenient. That’s not how human chemistry works, no matter how much we pretend otherwise.
His jaw tightens and his head shakes in the negative. Nonverbal emphasis there shall be nothing physical between us. There is no us. Focus.
“What did they want? When they blackmailed you?”
“No. First, your company.”
“What else do you want to know?”
“Who’s funding it?” He sinks into the back of the armchair. “As you can see from my experience, the money source is an important factor.”
I open my mouth; struck with the realization he’s not going to like my answer. But also, it’s information I shouldn’t share. “I never asked.” It’s a half-truth. I never asked what the approved answer is regarding funding.
His lips purse, skeptical.
“I was assured it’s well-funded. I didn’t join the firm hoping to collect a pension decades from now. I joined because I want to find the leak. It didn’t take me long to realize I could do nothing inside the CIA. Not in my new group. This was a chance to chase down the leak.”
“Who’s the client?”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone hired your company to investigate, right?”
“That’s not… We’re privately funded.” He’s looking at me like he’s trying to decide if I’m a fool or if I’m lying to him again. “I don’t know who initiated the investigation.” That’s the truth. I consider Hudson. Former special forces. Intelligent. Direct. He shares information on a need-to-know basis, and I… Damn, I’m too used to taking orders. I didn’t ask enough questions—of Hudson or Caroline.
“Let me get this straight. An unknown entity invested in a surveillance team to find out who ARGUS is doing deals with and recruited operatives under the guise of a vigilante protector?”
I swallow and give a quick nod, understanding why he’s incredulous. If it’s not the government wanting this investigation, it could be a competitor.
“I did a background check on you.” That’s an off-the-wall comment, and I wait, wondering where he’s going with it.
“And?”
“You’re friends with Caroline Moore.”
“That showed up in my background report?”
“Well, you were in the CIA with her.”
“Yes.” I suppose that intel is obtainable.
“Is she behind this at all?”
“Why would you ask—” His look shuts me up.
“She is one of my close friends. She knows…” I’ll leave that thought there. I’ve probably shared too much as it is. If Caroline chose to conceal her connection to KOAN, it’s likely ARGUS would identify links.
“Do you trust her husband?”
“I’ve never met him.” I meet his dark, questioning eyes head on. “Caroline and I met after they separated. They’re back together, but I haven’t met him yet. If you’re asking…I don’t have contact with him.”
He tugs at his jaw.
