Page 86 of Spies Don’t Fall for Their Best Friend

“Reese,” she says warmly. “Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for letting me.”

“This is an unusual exception.”

I nod.

“I trust that you understand the importance of keeping everything you see and learn here private.”

“I do.”

Her expression softens slightly. “I know tonight has been a lot.”

“That is one way to describe it.”

“Tonight’s visit has been authorized because of your long relationship with our family, your completed vetting, and the fact that you accidentally witnessed a portion of an active operation.”

I wince. “Accidentally is an important word in that sentence.”

Evelyn gives me a warm smile, then gestures toward the open door. “Let’s go inside.”

The short hallway beyond the lobby contains a freestanding arch made of dark metal and glass. It looks like an airport scanner designed by someone with a much larger budget and no desire to make passengers feel comfortable.

“Go ahead,” Miles says.

I look back at him. “What does it detect?”

“Weapons, chemical agents, electronic devices, listening equipment, trackers, and several other things.”

My purse has a tracker in it, and I’m suddenly feeling very validated in leaving it in the locker. I walk through the scanner, and a light moves from my head to my feet before emitting one quiet chime. I look down at myself. “Did I pass?”

“You’re carrying trace amounts of beeswax,” Miles says, glancing at a nearby screen.

My eyes go wide. “It can detect beeswax?”

“It can detect chemical residue.”

Maybe my shower today shouldn’t have been a quick one.

The end of the hall opens into an enormous space. Desks fill a good part of the room. Glass-fronted conference rooms line the back wall. Four large screens hang at the front, displaying graphs, spreadsheets, market projections, and enough boring financial information to make my eyes lose focus immediately. A sign above them reads Lancaster Business Solutions, and on another wall, I see their logo— Your secrets are safe with us.

I look at Miles. “That slogan is either clever or evidence that your entire agency enjoys tempting fate.”

He chuckles softly.

It’s late on a Saturday, so most of the desks are empty. Charlie sits near the middle of the room, staring intently at a screen filled with what appears to be a spreadsheet. Her posture is too rigid. She’s pretending to perform boring work with the same energy she uses when trying not to spoil the ending of a movie.

Emerson is several desks away. He glances up once, gives me a small nod, and returns to writing on a plain legal pad. Neither of them says anything. The silence feels staged. Not fake exactly. More… concealed.

Evelyn leads us to the front of the room and stops beneath the LBS sign.

“This is what Mackenzie saw when she visited Jace before she knew the truth,” Miles says quietly.

I look around again. There’s nothing here that says government intelligence agency. No maps. No mission boards. No surveillance images. No global threats being tracked across glowing screens. Only business projections and empty desktops.

“So, this is what you show outsiders?” I hate how naturally the word lands.

“Yes. When we have to.”