Page 45 of Cast in Shadow
What if she’d been telling him the truth all along?
He started to remember other things too. Things he’d thought were incongruent at the time, but he’d passed them off as unimportant. The organic stuff in her fridge. The slick tech. People earning minimum wage under the table didn’t have that stuff. Nor did they typically practice meditation or know what Cebuano was.
Then, there was her philanthropy. Paupers weren’t typically philanthropic. It defied basic human nature. Sure, there were people who wanted to help others, but only after they took care of themselves.
He was a perfect example. He took care of himself first. Granted, he was a man of simple means. He’d grown up poor. Joined the Navy, so he’d have a roof over his head and food in his belly. Now that he was out, he hadn’t changed much. He did what he had to do to get by, using his skills to ensure his basic needs were met, whether that be working per diem in a tattoo shop or hiring himself out as a mercenary.
The point was, everything he did these days, he did for himself. But Aggie? She could wrap herself in wealth anytime she wanted to, but she didn’t.
Things clicked into place, like tumblers in a combination lock.
Robin Hood.
Legend had it that Robin Hood was of noble birth. Maybe Aggie was too. Maybe it was about more than redistributing funds. Perhaps Aggie, like Robin Hood, had left her castle and wealthy, powerful family and lived amongst the poor common folk, fighting with them and for them.
If that was the case, then there was a whole lot more to the woman than he’d ever imagined.
Fuck.
Why hadn’t he seen it before? She was a master at assuming identities. Why wouldn’t she have done so with him too?
Except she had shown him some of her true self, hadn’t she?
No longer worried about ditching the Rover, he drove back to the chalet. It was empty and ... clean. Too clean. The place smelled of lemons. Since they’d left, the linens had been replaced, the used towels had been removed, and the garbage had been taken out along with any perishable food items.
He went through the place, top to bottom, and found nothing. No clue to her real identity.
But someone knew. There had to be property records. Utility accounts. Vehicle registrations.
He was a tracker, goddamn it. He’d find her. And this time, he wasn’t working for anyone, except himself.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aggie
“She offered you a job, didn’t she?” T asked, leaning back in the deck chair, lifting his already-tanned face to the tropical sun.
After leaving Charley, Aggie had taken the jet to LA and vanished. She’d liked Charley well enough, but she trusted no one—especially not someone in Charley’s position. Now that Charley knew she existed, Aggie was going to have to rethink how she went about doing things.
So she’d decided to go off grid for a while. To take a break and regroup. There was no place better to do that than her private island, and no one better to provide answers than her brother. Only one person had the connections and knowledge to pull a stunt like that, and he was currently sitting right beside her.
“She had a hell of a sales pitch,” Aggie admitted.
“You’re not interested?”
“In working for her? No. Too many rules.”
T chuckled softly. As a former SEAL, he knew all about rules and didn’t care for them any more than she did. That was why he’d created his own organization. To be a Chameleon, the rules were few and simple: cut all ties and cease to exist.
Unlike Charley, however, he didn’t only recruit already-trained operatives who’d proven themselves. He took regular people, those who had nothing and no one and gave them everything—training, purpose, a chance to exact vengeance.
Not everyone could be a Chameleon though. T hand-selected his people. Each was carefully screened and thoroughly researched. He said he knew within minutes of talking with a potential candidate whether they had what it took. He hadn’t been wrong yet. In fact, many of his operatives believed he was psychic—a rumor which T did nothing to discourage.
“Plus, you know I can’t stand the idea of answering to anyone,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
“You answer to me.”
She laughed. “You wish.”
