Page 4 of Aftermath
The iced vanilla latte slid across the far end of the barista bar, and the woman gave me a wave. I left the line I had just barely joined to grab my order and gave the woman a warm smile.
I slipped a ten-dollar bill across the counter and saw her grin grow further.
“How much longer do we have you until you are off on a field assignment?” she asked, her rich brown eyes filled with curiosity.
The question sent a small pang of pain through my chest.
“A while,” I answered, trying to keep my smile from faltering.
“Good,” she answered firmly.
I awkwardly nodded and turned for the exit.
I was grateful for the chance to still be part of the FBI. I still believed in its mission. Even if I was not the best agent for the field, there was no denying I had more knowledge to impart than most.
The warm summer air hit me the moment I exited the building, and I took a sip of my newest caffeine fix to counter it. It was late summer, and the longer I spent outside, the more I regretted the sweater vest I wore over my thin long sleeves.
I needed a vacation near the coast, where the breeze fought back the dreaded heat.
Or at least, that’s what most said when I’d returned to the job.Take a vacation, take all the time in the world.
I’d never go back into the field, but my supervisory special agent, William Greyson, or Agent Grey, had a way of getting what he wanted, and me quitting was never one of those wishes. The second I stepped away, he was at my door to drag me right back.
It worked.
He personally oversaw my every move, and I knew those he reported to wanted him to keep a close eye, to report back on my stability.
I wasn’t sure I cared. Placing my feelings never came easily to me, not as a child, and certainly not now.
“Perfect timing,” a voice rang from behind me, and I turned to see Grey catching up with me. “On your way back to your office?”
“I have a bit more work to finish for the day,” I stated.
“Then you won’t mind me adding one more thing to those tasks.”
“What?” I asked, raising a brow.
“Tips,” Grey said, his voice raspy from years of smoking. “They’re breathing down my neck about clearing them out again. I have plenty of agents on it, but none breeze through them like you do.”
If there was a singular task I actually dreaded, it was tips.
Endless forms to review and sort, extremely mind-numbing work. It by no means pushed my mental capabilities, but it did test my patience.
Maybe that’d be good for me, to fine-tune an important skill.
“Fine,” I muttered, pulling out my badge to tap into the building as we walked up to the door. I refused to let Grey see. I didn’t mind taking the tips today; I just didn’t want to volunteer myself to be on them permanently.
We passed through the security measures together, Grey trailing slightly behind me.
“I want a report by the end of day,” he added.
“I would expect nothing less,” I said, my voice calm and steady.
It made my heart ache to see what had become of my career. I knew I missed being in the field, but I refused to go back. I was smarter than that.
There wasn’t a single thing I couldn’t recall, that I couldn’t piece together.
Except that night.
