Page 81 of Fear of Flames
“I wasn’t.” She narrowed her gaze. “But now I am.”
Since the dining table was now Michelle’s office of sorts, she had two place settings on the breakfast bar. She set her wine glass at one of them. “Once the salad is done, we can eat.”
“You don’t have to cook for me. I can get us food.”
She laughed. “You did that for a week. I’ve had my fill of burgers and breakfast sandwiches.” Michelle opened the oven door, and the scent of teriyaki came out with a puff of hot air.
Soon they were seated at the breakfast bar. “I should move my computer someplace else,” Michelle said.
“Where and why?” he asked between bites. “Damn, this is good. I usually buy frozen shit that tastes about as good as it sounds.”
Her cheeks lifted at the compliment. “Thank you.”
“You can take a compliment about your cooking but not your appearance.”
She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a comment, but she responded, “I enjoy cooking. It’s even more fun to cook for two instead of one.” She offered him a shy smile. “I’m getting more accustomed to the other compliments.”
“Seriously, I can barely boil an egg. Who taught you to cook like this?”
“My mom.” She turned to Fletch with a grin. “My mom who was also a secret badass agency spy, apparently. If she did both, maybe I can too.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I think you were the one who said my choices were limited.”
“If they weren’t…?”
Michelle put down her fork and reached for the stem of the wine glass. “I can’t think about it too much. Dad used to quote Aristotle—‘Choice, not chance, determines your destiny.’” She shrugged. “I think it’s both. I made the choice to visit him. You made the choice to stick around and help me. You chose to come back for me after the deputy tried to kidnap me. If those choices led me here, who am I to say it’s not my destiny?”
“Ralph Perkins is dead.”
Michelle reached for the globe of the glass to steady it from its sudden wobble and set it back on the countertop. “How? What happened?”
“No foul play is suspected. They’ll know more after the autopsy.” Fletch took another bite and swallowed. “I don’t buy it. I think he fucked up. Denny’s case and your disappearance shed too much light on Iron Falls and whatever operation they have going there. I’d wager they got rid of him.”
“Who is they?” She’d asked him that question before.
Fletch inhaled. “That’s what we need to find out.”
“You don’t think Sheriff Perkins was acting on his own when he killed Dad.”
“I don’t. I think Perkins was a soldier carrying out orders. He fucked up with you there. Think about it. If you hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have been there. Leo wouldn’t have known to clean out Denny’s shed.”
“I would have gotten a call,” Michelle said, “from Sheriff Perkins, and I would have believed that it was an accidental fire.” She shook her head. “He couldn’t have convinced me that Dad took his own life, but an accident…I would’ve believed that.”
“You also wouldn’t be a suspect.”
Michelle sighed. “How will the agency do it?”
“Do what?”
“Kill me. Make the world think I’m dead. I don’t want to spend forever in this complex. I need to die and be given a new identity, like you, right?”
“They have their ways.”
Michelle stood. “There’s more chicken and rice. Would you like more?”
A smile spread across Fletch’s face. “I’ll lick the dish clean, and then do the same to you.”
