Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
All right then, I think. “What’s going on with the complete blackout with the press?”
“Murphy’s murder is off the record and a sealed file for now. That stands until the White House says otherwise.” He rests an arm on the back of the seat. “I’ll cut to the chase. I know about the Society. I know about Pocher. Murphy and I talked, which is why I know you were helping Murphy in his efforts to bring them down.”
Am I surprised? Yes.
Am I shocked? Nope.
I just worked a crime scene with dismembered body parts. I’m not rattled by words and revelations. “Are all those things you just said supposed to make me agree with you? Or even go so far as to trust you?”
“If they did, I’d be disappointed. Who killed Murphy?”
“I’m looking at motive and opportunity. Where were you last night? You certainly have motive. You got his job.”
He chuckles. “Murphy told me you were a handful.”
“He didn’t tell me about you at all.”
Debbie sets two cups of whipped cream on the table, only I’m pretty sure there’s coffee underneath the mound. “Try that,” she urges.
These diners and their whipped cream really are winning my love. “And that,” Debbie urges a minute later, as she returns from a quick trip to the counter to deliver our slices of pie.
“Thanks,” I say. “Give me a few and I’ll report on your recommendations.”
She nods quickly and rushes away, my attention returning to Adams, who’s already diving into the pie. “It’s good,” he says. “We won’t have to shoot her.” He winks.
Cringe.
I do not like winkers but good-looking guys like Adams tend to get cocky, and cocky feeds this type of clownish behavior.
“Ask me anything, Agent,” he encourages. His arm is flung over the back of the seat again.
Why do you wink like a creeper almost comes out of my mouth, but I’ve already answered that question myself.
“Tell me about Europe,” I say instead, deciding to go balls to the wall. Not that there was any real decision-making needed. Balls to the wall is kind of my thing.
“You work fast.”
I just look at him, watching his reaction, which is fairly unaffected. The arm doesn’t move. He doesn’t close himself off. He’s not uncomfortable. But then, he’s a practiced master of bullshit, of that I am certain.
“If you mean the rumors that I’m dirty, it was an intentional plant made by a joint CIA/FBI task force focused on the Society. We needed what just happened to happen. For me to be placed in a position where the Society will approach me.”
“You needed Murphy’s job, you mean?”
He laughs and sits up straighter. “No. Murphy was CIA before he was FBI, which was all part of a bigger plan he managed masterfully. He had the Society believing he was working both sides when he despised them.”
It matches my suspicions, but it doesn’t feel quite right. “Really? Why didn’t I know this?”
“He said you couldn’t handle the truth. I told him he was wrong.”
I could bring up Ellis at this point, but I’m not sure I trust either of them enough to dive into those waters. I sniff the air and lift my coffee. “Something smells off.” I manage to sip past the globs of sugar to the sweet cream taste below. Debbie did okay. “Where’d you say you were last night?”
“In Texas,” he says, “working a case, with a team of agents. They’ll vouch for me. And then we can get to solving Murphy’s murder together.”
“Together? I thought Homeland Security was running the case.”
“They are, and you can continue to communicate with Ellis, but you work for me. Also, I don’t know Ellis except in passing, but he seems to be clean as a freshly washed baby’s butt, though I wouldn’t rule out a stink just yet. Be careful with him.”
Okay, so much for keeping Homeland under wraps.
His cellphone rings.
He snakes it from his pocket, and answers. I try the pie, which is actually really freaking good, and listen as he says, “Right. Okay. We’ll be there.” He disconnects. “Looks like you’re going to get some up close and personal time with me, Agent. Washington called. They want us there to talk about the murder.”
“Good luck with that. I’m solving the murder. You can talk to the politicians.”
“They named you, Lilah. We’re both going. They have a chopper waiting on us.” He pulls cash from his wallet and tosses it on the table. “Now.”
This feels like a setup if I’ve ever seen a setup.
Now, I just have to decide how to deal with it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The way I see things, Murphy’s dead, the government doesn’t trust the Feds and the man who now runs the Feds wants me to get in a chopper with him. Me and mine don’t have a great track record in flying objects. So as Randy from American Idol used to say—yes, my mother loved that show and I watched it with her—that’s a no from me, dog.