“You’re not leaving, are you?” Peter asked.
“I am,” she replied.
“Let’s chat on the porch,” he said. “Let me tell the guests the coffee is ready.”
Jerod put his arm around Simone. “You look so sad. It breaks my heart. What can I do to help?”
“That’s sweet, but I’m okay,” she said. “It’s not the right time to be social.”
“I understand.” He gave her shoulder a little squeeze before removing his hand. “The power of death is life-changing.”
Peter returned, poured a cup of coffee, offered it to Simone. She declined.
He set it on the counter, slid it over to Jerod, then poured one for himself. Then, he held up a bottle of amaretto and a bottle of Grand Marnier.
Jerod took the cognac, poured in a healthy amount while Peter added amaretto to his.
Onto the porch they went. Surrounded by darkness, Peter turned on the light hanging over the sofa.
“I appreciate your being here, Simone,” Peter said, after they got comfortable.
She glanced at Jerod, then back to Peter. “It’s good being around you guys. Reminds me of when we used to work together.”
“If you want to return to Justice, I would hire you in a heartbeat,” Jerod said.
“Same,” Peter added. “You were an outstanding agent.” He sipped the drink. “I could use your help with something… something personal.”
“I’m not taking on any new clients right now,” Simone said.
“Are you talking about being a personal shopper?” Peter chuckled. “I’m not buying that. Did you move over to the Agency?”
“No, Peter,” she replied, her patience worn thin. “I’m not with the CIA.”
“My money’s on you going undercover, but I can’t get confirmation on that.”
“Not undercover, Peter.”
A hit of adrenaline punched through her. In a way, shewasgoing UC. Not for the Bureau, but for ALPHA. Pride filled her heart. That, and determination. She was doing something to help an organization that had once brought her tremendous joy.
And she was doing it for Fred.
“Like I said, I need your help,” he said. “Like a side gig, just between us.”
This oughta be interesting.
“What would I be doing?”
“Surveilling Luciano Santini.”
Not this… again. What is law enforcement’s obsession with him?
Rather than dismiss him, she leaned back, crossed her legs. “Why would I do that?”
“He’s very close with Carrera Santini?—”
“They’re cousins?—”
“And Sinclair Develin.”
