Page 116 of The Truths that Deceive

“Collateral damage.” Johnny stands. “She’ll be under the CIA until she dies.”

And I watch him go.

Until she dies.

I switch off the feed as Jones comes out of the side room and hands me a glass of whiskey. He drops into the chair.

What happens with those people, the ones the CIA wants, is out of our hands. Anyone who is left will wish they died quickly.

“You know,” he says, “the girl of yours is a find. She’s not just good, she’s phenomenal.”

“Yeah, except the CIA’s going to rob her.”

“Unless she dies.” He looks at me and sets down his glass. “It’s the only way.”

The only way.

I’d hoped… It doesn’t matter what I’d hoped. I nod. Then I pick up my whiskey and drain the glass.

In a perfect world, she’d have real freedom. But…

“I’ll set it up,” he mutters. “Unless you have a problem.”

“No. We agree,” I say to Jones. “She has to die.”

Chapter 32

Calista

My computer. That’s what’s under the rug, beneath the floorboards. In a simple safe I crack with ease.

I don’t know where Smith is, but I’m glad he’s not here right now.

My fucking computer, all my shit. Passport. And on top are two tickets to DC.

He lied.

I guess I should be shocked. But I’m not because I can see on the computer he gave me what he’d poked into. I can hack most things. Like his phone, like all of Eric’s social media accounts as well as his mother’s, their credit card usage. Hell, I can even get into the CCTV around the office that the senator’s using in Lower Manhattan.

“You sick fuck,” I mutter at a photo I found on a dark web profile. Eric likes young girls.

Fourteen, fifteen, the explicit photos don’t lie.

And… fuck it. I flip back to the curated social media page of his mom. It’s perfect. Cool and calming centers, waterfalls, her at elite events. Just always left of center and shadowed, as if she’s not the intended subject. It’s clever. It makes her the focus but not in your face.

Put her in a lineup, and even I’d be hard-pressed to pick her out.

If he’s in that office… Jesus.

And his mother just posted a picture of him a day ago, her comments about what good he’s doing and how she’s now off for her honeymoon.

Then she has this to say:The first to arrive and the last to leave, always with time to listen to any concern from anyone, a real honest American.

What a bunch of bullshit.

“So honest you’re into trafficking,” I mutter at the man’s smiling photo.

If he’s the first to arrive and the senator’s heading back in the next day, then he’s probably already there.

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