Gibson looked up from his laptop, his longer than regulation curly brown hair sticking up at odd angles.
“Nothing new.”
We’d been at it for hours, scouring old reports and following leads that led to dead ends.
“What the fuck happened?” I asked; it was rhetorical, but Gibson answered anyway.
“Fuck if I know.”
“How did so many files go missing? How the hell did two CIA officers disappear without a trace and no one went looking for them?”
“Foul play?” Gibson leaned back and ran his hand through his hair.
“No shit, Sherlock.” It was quickly becoming our most used phrase.
Gibson laughed as he shut his laptop and stood. “Let’s get out of here. Maybe a change of scenery will help.”
“Beer?”
“Beer.”
We couldn’t talk openly, but we’d worked together enough to speak in code.In several languages.
“You’re driving,” G said.
We packed up and left, saying goodbye to the few souls still burning the midnight oil.
My case made less and less sense the more I learned.
By all accounts, Travis and Melissa Singer were exemplary officers.
The CIA had awarded Melissa an Intelligence Medal of Merit for going above and beyond in one of her earlier cases.
The math isn’t adding up.
Chapter 21
Nina
Icouldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me as I crossed the street to Grannie’s. Damn, Smith. Damn Steel and his scary friend. Their visits—interrogations—robbed me of my peace, my sleep, and now my sense of safety.
My concealer couldn’t hide the bags under my eyes, but I had to put on a cheerful face so I could serve coffee to the early risers. Normally, I loved my job and chatting with our customers, but today wasn’t a normal day.
Beth greeted me as I crossed the dining room. The kitschy old style saloon decor no longer felt fun or welcoming. The darkwood tables and worn leather stools felt like omens of dark things to come.
“Morning, Beth,” I forced my customer service smile on my face.
Stupid Austin and his rugged good looks and emotionless personality. No, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d shown concern when I spilled my coffee, so he was capable of having emotions.
When I walked behind the bar to prep for opening, Beth hugged me. Her hand rubbing my back offered the kind of motherly support I didn’t know I needed. I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked back my tears.
“How about I run the register today? You stay back here and make drinks,” Beth suggested.
I nodded so my voice wouldn’t crack and give away how close I was to losing my shit.
To take my mind off the shitshow that was my life, I asked Beth about Chase, and she happily shared. Hearing about Chase and his first year baseball adventures never failed to make me smile.
Mary and John stopped by during my morning break to check on me. When they asked me to talk in Mary’s office, I thought for sure I was in trouble because of all the craziness and potential danger I’d brought to Grannie’s.
