Page 6 of Hunter

“Thank you,” she answered, as she sat down in a visitor’s chair.

“We’re a little off the beaten track. Did you have any trouble finding us?” Emerson asked, reclaiming his seat behind the desk.

“No, but the security measures here are a bit intimidating.”

“They have to be. We’re doing highly classified work. Once you get used to us, I’m sure you’ll appreciate being a member of the team.”

“Actually, I’ve reserved judgment on taking the assignment until we could meet in person, and you could tell me what I’d be doing,” she said in an even voice.

His face registered a flash of anger that he quickly masked. “We’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to expedite your hiring.”

“I appreciate that.”

“And I thought your personal situation was an urgent consideration,” he added.

“It is,” she conceded. “But coming here has raised some questions.”

“About?”

“I’d like to know more about the man McCourt and I met on the road.”

“John Doe?” he asked in a tone that turned the question into a statement.

“News travels fast around here.”

“I had a report from McCourt.”

“Of course,” she said. So that had been the deferential phone call. She should have known.

“What did you think of him?”

“McCourt?”

“John Doe.”

The question took her by surprise, and she came out with the first impression she’d formed. “He was very fit.”

Emerson laughed as if enjoying a private joke. “Hmm. Yes. What else did you observe?”

“Well, he appears to speak English as if he’s just learned it,” she answered, embarrassed to voice some of the more personal observations she’d made.

“You have well-developed powers of observation.”

Another compliment. She should be pleased. Instead, the man’s intense scrutiny made her feel suffocated.

“He’s a convict who has volunteered for a special assignment.”

Kathryn blinked, completely thrown. “That’s hard to believe,” she murmured.

“Why?”

“I’ve worked with criminals. He doesn’t behave like one.” If she’d been asked to justify the statement, it would have been difficult to come up with supporting details based on her brief encounter with the man. It was more a feeling than a professional observation.

Luckily, Emerson didn’t challenge her, but his tone was emphatic as he continued, “We’ve changed him a lot since he arrived. He was serving a life sentence for murder.”

The unexpected words hit her like a blow to the stomach, and she gasped in a startled breath of air.

A little smile played around Emerson’s lips. At first, she thought he was enjoying her shock. Yet, as his gaze slid away from hers, she saw something more disturbing. His eyes gave him away. For some reason, he was telling her a lie. Or he was filtering the truth.

---