The argument starts over dinner.
I've ordered food from a restaurant that doesn't ask questions about anonymous deliveries to secure buildings. Italian, because I've watched her eat lunch enough times to know she loves good pasta. She accepts the gesture with surprise and gratitude that makes my chest warm.
Such simple things make her happy.
We eat in comfortable silence, the evidence of Harrison's corruption spread across half the dining table while we work.Professional partnership has become natural, easy. Like we've been doing this for years instead of hours.
Too easy. Too comfortable. Too much like the kind of domestic partnership I gave up any right to when I became Ghost.
But what if you didn't have to give it up?
The thought is dangerous, seductive. What if exposing Harrison clears both our names? What if we could build something real from this crisis? What if the federal agent and the phantom killer could find a way to exist in the same world?
What if you're dreaming?
"We need to discuss tomorrow," I say, breaking the comfortable silence that's been stretching between us.
"What about tomorrow?"
"Harrison knows you're with me. He'll be expecting us to stay hidden, to work from the shadows."
"And we're not going to do that?"
"We're going to do the opposite. We're going to be visible, aggressive. Force him to react instead of letting him control the timeline."
She sets down her fork, giving me her full attention. "What does that mean?"
"It means we contact Agent Rodriguez. Tell him we have evidence of federal corruption that goes to the highest levels of the Bureau."
"Rodriguez will think it's a trap."
"Rodriguez will think you're trying to save yourself by implicating your superior. Which means he'll investigate just enough to determine whether your claims have merit."
"And when he realizes they do?"
"He becomes our inside source. Someone with legitimate federal authority who can access records, conduct interviews, build parallel evidence."
Someone who's in love with you and will move heaven and earth to prove your innocence.
The thought makes something dark and possessive twist in my chest. Rodriguez's feelings for Mariana are obvious to anyone with eyes. The way he looks at her, the personal concern that goes beyond professional partnership, the careful way he avoids crossing lines while hoping she'll cross them herself.
He wants her.
And under normal circumstances, he'd be perfect for her. A good man, a good agent, someone who shares her values and her world. Someone who could give her a normal life with normal risks and normal happiness.
Someone who isn't a killer.
"Rodriguez is a good man," she says quietly, and I realize she's been watching my face.
"Yes."
"He deserves better than being used as a pawn in our game."
Our game.The phrase makes heat unfurl in my chest despite the context.
"Sometimes good people get used in circumstances beyond their control."
"Is that what you're doing? Using me?"
