Page 96 of Jonesing for a Spy

“I’m in. Besides, I’m bored out of my mind here. It’s just endless rich beaches or abject poverty. Mauritania is boring. Give me something to do.”

“How would you feel about fake blowing something up? I need news stories planted. An explosion video. All the quote-unquote government cover-up. The whole thing.”

“So I get to blow something up for real?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s boring,” he drawls.

“It is.”

“How, Jones, do you plan to have news articles about an explosion when the thing is left standing? People will notice.”

“I’m good if that’s figured out later. We can blame terrible journalism or something. But I need the story to hold for a couple of weeks. And I’ve picked a target that’s not easily verified.”

“Again. How?”

“Because it exists on Navajo National land. It’s remote. I’m looking at Four Corners power plant in northwest New Mexico.”

“Do I want to know what you’re up to?” he asks, covering the mic of his phone. “Shit. I have to go. Give me a day or two, and I’ll be back.”

He disconnects and I have no clue whether he’s working on it, whether my project is a go, whether I need to find another fake target.

The thought occurs to me. Smith. I wonder if he’s related to Sal and Franco Smith. Did I just seal my own fate?

40

velvet hammer

Strider

June is… how does one describe a force of nature wrapped up in the guise of a school secretary? And, after talking to her for even thirty minutes, how do her kids not question her career choice? They bought the act of the doting admin who simply wanted more time with her kids as they grew up. I guess she sold it, and they were young.

But looking at the woman across from me, I have no doubt she was as formidable as her daughter, maybe more so, and during a time when women weren’t given half the opportunities.

She’s spent the last hour catching me up. From the case at The Prestige to my own strangulation to Mirren’s job being put in jeopardy. Gene isn’t just looking for a ghost; he’s looking for a man in the wind—one he’ll never find, because he never existed to begin with.

“So, I’ve been told not to leave town. And Mirren’s been told she’s on leave for being too close to a villain?” I offer air quotes on the last word.

“You”—she points at me with a manicured nail—“are no villain. I’ve met golden retrievers with more bite than you.”

“Gee, thanks,” I offer sarcastically.

“You’re missing the point. You’re not the type. They’re barking up the wrong tree, and it’ll take about two minutes for people to see it. But you two being together will make it that much harder to clear your name.”

“We don’t have to worry about that… and not because I’m worried about my name.” I’m innocent. That has to count for something.

“Good. This will die down, and it’ll be best if you two give it some time. You’ll both come out on the other side better positioned, individually and as a couple.”

“Oh, there’s no couple.” I’m shredding from the inside just thinking it, much less saying it out loud. “I don’t tolerate liars. I’ll keep your secret, and Mirren’s, too, apparently, because I’m an honorable man. But I’m also honorable enough that I won’t allow myself into the trap of being lied to again. I love your daughter, June. But I can’t be with someone who willingly lies to me for convenience. Or for any other reason.”

I stand. “I don’t want to be rude, but I need to shower and prepare for an unknowable week ahead. I appreciate knowing that O’Neill isn’t lurking around every corner and that Mirren is safe and happy. And that she has the perfect job for her. That said, losing her was the last thing I expected and, frankly, the final straw. I want time alone.”

June’s mouth is agape, and her hand lifts as if to answer, but my responding look must be enough.

“You’re free to see yourself out the way you came in. I’ll see you around.”

Where, I don’t know. When, again, is unknown. I can’t imagine a visit to Charlie or Fairhope with the memories of Freckles there. Knowing she could be around the corner, or as it turns out, across the globe.