Page 14 of Main Event

“Not on the phone,” he says. “Come to the gym.”

He’s waiting for me by the time I arrive. Out of the training session, towel around his neck, the focused stillness of someone who has been thinking about what to say and hasn’t finished thinking yet. We go to the small office off the main floor—Mack’s territory, which Mack has vacated without being asked.

He looks at the folders I’ve set on the desk between us.

“When did you find them?” he asks.

“This morning. In the front seat of my car. That was parked in the secure parking garage.”

He nods. The nod of someone confirming something he already suspected, not learning something new.

“How long has this been happening?” I ask again.

She waits a beat too long. “A while.” Another vague answer.

“Luke.”

“I know.” He looks at the folders. “I’m not going to tell you everything right now.”

I hold his eyes. “Why not?”

It’s not quite an accusation. It’s a question I already know part of the answer to, which is why I’m asking it—to see if he knows the same part I do.

He looks at me for a long moment. There’s something in his face I recognize as the weight of a decision he hasn’t finished making.

“Because there are people in your life who I’m not sure about yet,” he says. Carefully. “And until I am, I need to be careful about what goes where.”

People. Plural, but we both know it’s singular.

I look at the desk. At the folders. At the work I’ve been doing for months, someone copied and left it in my car to tell me they’d already seen it.

“She was at the meeting yesterday,” I say. “Evelyn Carrington.”

He doesn’t react. Which is its own reaction.

“She asked about Andi,” I say. “By name. Called the testimony substantive.” I pause. “Marin didn’t mention she’d be there. When I brought up the name at home, she said it sounded familiar. Governance circles are small.”

Luke is very still.

“That’s all she said?” he asks.

“That’s all she said.” I look at him. “Her expression didn’t change, Luke. I know what her expression looks like when something is new information. That wasn’t it.”

The office is quiet. Somewhere on the main floor, gloves connect with a bag in a steady rhythm. The ordinary sounds of preparation.

“I’ve been watching her,” I say. “Quietly. For a few weeks. Nothing I can point to. Just pattern recognition.”

“What kind of pattern?”

“The way she frames things. The exact words she uses when she’s steering a conversation somewhere.” I pause. “I thought it was just how she works. I’m starting to think it’s something else.”

Luke looks at his hands.

There’s something he’s not telling me. I know him well enough to know that and well enough to know that pushing right now won’t get me there. He’s holding something back for a reason, and until I understand the reason, I can’t argue with it.

“What do you need from me?” I ask.

“Right now?” He looks up. “Keep your routine. Don’t change anything. Don’t give anyone a reason to think your posture has shifted.”