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“Yes?”
“I’m sorry, sir, that individual is not a government employee.”
With anger, Tom says, “I know she doesn’t work for the goddamn government, she works for the Central Intelligence Agency!”
“No, sir, she does not.”
Then the man hangs up.
Tom is about to toss the phone across his office when a voice behind him says, “Daddy, what’s wrong?”
He whirls around. Denise, standing in the doorway to his office, wearing light-gray sweats and an oversize NY Giants T-shirt.
“Daddy?”
“Ah, I’m just working, that’s all. Something came up. You should go back to bed.”
She stares at him, lower lip starting to tremble. “It’s Mommy, isn’t it? She’s in trouble. What’s going on?”
Hating himself, he says, “No, it’s not Mom. Honest.”
Denise stares at him, says, “Daddy…you’re lying.”
Chapter31
AFTER JEAN-PAULtakes away our empty plates following a delicious early-morning breakfast of soft scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, and croissants with strawberry jam—all washed down with cold orange juice and strong French coffee—Jeremy wipes his fingers with a white napkin and says, “I know some of your background, Amy, but tell me: where in the States did you grow up?”
I wipe my fingers as well and say, “A little town called LA,” which makes him smile. “Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
With that smile I feel sorry—and perhaps a little envious—of any single woman in his vicinity. Jeremy has cleaned up well, and now he’s dressed in khaki trousers and a pressed blue cotton shirt. His earlier tangled mess of hair and beard have been washed and closely trimmed by Jean-Paul, the cheerful and talented steward.
“And you?” I ask. “Your folks were pretty tight with information about you…”
I was about to say “you and Ollie,” but thankfully I catch myself in time.
Jeremy says, “Rather boring, I’m afraid. Knocked about some boarding schools when I was younger, quite a hellion, and then decided to try the Army. Family business and all that. Found it suited me and I suited it. A few dull years and then I decided to try something more challenging and tried out for the Regiment. Then they lent me to MI6…and what propelled you to work for the Agency from the Army?”
I say, “After a life of crime on the road and facing serious prison time, a heavily tanned man offered me a chance to serve my country and stay out of jail.”
Jeremy smiles. “Was this man’s name Roger?”
“When I knew him, he called himself Paul.”
“How long was your life of crime on the road?”
“About three days,” I say, trying hard not to dwell on those bloody memories.
“Was it worth it?”
“Very much worth it,” I say. “I ended up saving my husband and daughter from a Mexican drug cartel. But I also pissed off the Army, which is why I’m now a civilian. Still, saving my family seemed a fair trade.”
“Ask you another question?” he asks.
“Still happily married, never stray. Does that answer your question?”
He looks embarrassed and I enjoy putting him on the spot.
Then he pulls it together and says, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re an outlier. A woman in the field…and a mother as well. Why? What pushes you to do that when you could do something as important and safer, riding a desk?”
