Page 85 of Jael

Danny coughed out a laugh. “That’s what you’ve been thinking this whole time? That I have some ulterior motive?” But the incredulous look on his face didn’t last, and he averted his eyes. “I really do want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help, and my father is dead. So what’s left?”

“What would you have done today if I wasn’t around?”

“You want me to say thanks? ’Cause I truly am grateful. But now we’re done. Got it?”

She turned in a huff and continued toward her car, but Danny ran to catch up, and he put a hand on her car door to keep it closed when she reached for it.

“Wait,” he said.

“Why?”

It was clear he had more to say but didn’t want to say it. She was curious enough to give him time to respond. She wanted the truth. With Danny more than anyone.

“Okay,” he finally said. “You’re partly right.”

“Which part?”

“I’m not still here because— I mean, I do care. I do want to help you. That’s why I’m here. That’s what I’m trying to—” He grunted and walked in a small circle.

“Just say it. Whatever it is. Stop trying to find the right words and spit it out. I can take it. I’m a big girl.”

“There’s something else going on.”

“Big surprise.”

“I was never in prison.”

She nodded. “So all this time, you never got out of the game. Is it a con, or did my dad call you for one last job together?”

“Neither.”

“Then where have you been for the last ten years?”

“Mostly living in Kenya.”

“Doing what? Drugs? Guns?” She paused before saying the last, “Trafficking kids?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Nothing like that. Nothing illegal.”

“I don’t believe you, but it doesn’t matter. All I want to know is why you’re here.”

His cheek twitched several times before he spoke. “I’m here because of the FBI.”

It felt as though she’d been dipped in an ice bath. “You mean running from them, right? You wouldn’t be working for them. Evenyouwouldn’t stoop that low.”

“I’m working with them. It’s not the first time.”

She slapped him hard. Her hand stung, but he barely flinched, and it made her more angry. When she tried to wrenchopen the car door, it wouldn’t budge. It had relocked itself. She pushed on the fob again, but he leaned against it.

“Will you wait? Please,” he said. “This is important.”

“You were here to spy on me and my dad for the FBI, and you want me to wait? They are the reason my mom is dead. Did you know that?”

“Jael.”

“And you work for those—those murdering?—”

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