Page 27 of Misdirection

But Tom and his wife, Jill, were kind people. They played by the rules and lived a quiet, simple life.

Olive had learned a lot through them. She’d learned about respect. About commitment. About what a stable life could look like.

For that, she owed them a lot.

Even after she’d graduated and moved out, Tom had continued to be a mentor to her. He knew she worked at Aegis and had even vetted the company for her.

“Ollie,” Tom started, his voice filling with warmth. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“I hope I’m not calling too late. That new grandbaby of yours isn’t over there and trying to fall asleep right now, is she?”

When she’d gone to live with Tom and Jill, their four children were already out of the house. Olive had gotten to know them—as well as she got to know anyone—and thought they were great. Three were now married with children.

“No, it’s just Jill and me tonight.” Tom paused. “I can tell you have something on your mind. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Olive hesitated before deciding to dive in. She might as well pull off the Band-Aid and ask him the questions on her mind. “What did my dad do for the FBI?”

He paused again as if her question had taken him by surprise. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Is that because he never actually worked for the FBI?”

Another pause. “Ollie, you know your father was a very complicated man.”

“All these years I’ve tried to find out information. I’ve gone back to visit some of the places we lived. But no one has any answers, and I don’t have any relatives to question. But there’s something I’m missing. Don’t tell me I’m wrong. I know I’m not.”

“Ollie . . .”

“What is it? I can handle the truth.”

He paused again. “Where is this all coming from?”

Olive told him about her earlier conversation with Jason.

He let out a soft moan when she finished. “Ollie . . . this isn’t a conversation I want to have with you on the phone.”

“You live five hours away. I don’t want to wait until my current assignment is over to find out the truth. Why are you trying to protect me? Or is it my father’s reputation you’re trying to protect?”

“Are you sure you want the truth?” His question was asked quietly, thoughtfully—and maybe even with some caution.

She didn’t have to think about her answer. “I’m positive. I’ve wanted the truth for years.”

“You have to understand that there are certain things I’m not at liberty to say.”

The suspense was killing her. She’d rather deal with the truth than wrestle with the unknowns. “Tell me, Tom. Please. You’re the only person I truly trust. I hope I haven’t been wrong for all these years.”

“Ollie . . .” Hesitation marred his voice. “The truth is your dad never worked for the FBI.”

Her lungs froze. “What? That’s not what he told me.”

“He wasn’t always truthful.”

Olive’s thoughts continued to race. “How long have you known that? If that’s true, why did you lead me to believe that he did? You never corrected my assumptions.”

“Therewererumors that hedidwork off the books for the FBI. I’ve been trying to uncover the truth myself for many years.”

Her temples began to pound. “You’re confusing me, Tom.”

“Your dad’s background is confusing, to say the least. But I believe your father’s real name was Walter Wiggle.”

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