Page 73 of Savage Beauty

“Did your team find anything?”

“Nothing that jumped out to me as relevant. But we shared what we found with a few interested parties. They haven’t gotten back to us with any updates.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” I pace back and forth, down the hall, trying to piece it together. “Sloane seemed nervous about the D.C. meeting. But if she’s been in on it…why play us?”

“What was she nervous about?”

“Looking guilty. And yes, I recognize it looks like she fucking lied to me.” My little oh-she-may-have-gone-back-for-her-job looks like the cry of a desperate man wanting to believe he didn’t get played.

“Stay on track. She was nervous because…” He lets the request for more information hang there, a dead weight on the line.

“She willingly worked with those fuckers in Cambodia. Yes, they threatened her with Sage. But she did it willingly. Even gave them the names of two matches, and it sounds like they took those people.”

“And? She was afraid they’d file criminal charges? I’m not following.”

“Maybe? She didn’t say that…but…” Who the fuck knows? “Why would she play us?”

When Ginger cheated on me, the why was pretty fucking simple. I was gone a lot. She didn’t like military life. And boom, a suit-wearing prick offered her a nice big diamond ring. But why the fuck would Sloane lie to me? Was she full of shit when she told me her theory that some third party is involved? Or is this just about her trying to get her job back? Am I jumping to conclusions, or have I been played?

CHAPTER24

Sloane

“Sloane, if you’re willing to come back, I’ll cancel the rest of the interviews. I’d much rather have someone working for me who I know and trust. I’m sure if I explain to our board what happened, they’ll let me re-hire you. I mean, if you get some documentation to back your story. Do you think you can do that? You’re not making this up, are you?”

The conversation plays over and over in my head. The cab driver pulls up to the front of the villa, and I realize I don’t have any money.

“Oh, let me run in…” I can borrow some from Max.

“It’s okay, miss. Don’t worry about it.”

“No. I’ll pay you. Just give me a minute.” He’s a dark-skinned man with a peculiar pattern of moles around his cheeks, and perched on his head is a red, yellow, and green hand-knit cap. I peer forward, looking for a meter that tells how much I owe, but there isn’t one.

“They paid for your fare.”

“Who did? Dr. Kallio?”

“Your employer. I’m on their payroll. They pay a monthly fee, and we respond to pick up calls.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” After I get out of the car, I close the door and then remember the tip. I wave to catch his attention and tell him I’ll bring him a tip, but he’s already pulling away.

Headed back into the villa, my mind brims with all I need to do. I’ll need to get my bags back to my apartment. I won’t need to fly today. Will the CIA and NSA still want to meet with me? I suppose they will…but could we maybe do a phone meeting? It’s a voluntary meeting, so a phone meeting should be fine.

The front door of the villa doesn’t twist open. It’s locked. Of course it is. It automatically locks upon closing. When I left with Dr. Kallio, I didn’t grab the keys.

I rap my knuckle against the solid wood door. I press my ear against the wood but hear nothing.

Maybe Max isn’t back from his run. Or maybe he’s in the shower.

It’s not a big deal. I can get in from the back. I didn’t lock the sliding glass door. My feet sink into the sand on the side of the villa.

“So. You came back.” I stop, frozen by the sharp anger. Twice today. Two people have been angry with me. First Dr. Kallio, and now Max.

I should look up and face him. People appreciate it when you look them in the eye, and it’s an important thing to do. But I can’t force my gaze higher than his shoes. Brown slacks fall over worn hiking boots. It’s an odd combination that isn’t seen often here on the island.

“I ran into Dr. Kallio.” I walk around to the steps because I have a lot to do. My gaze remains trained on his dusty boots.

“Really. Tell me all about it.”

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