Page 22 of Justified Lies
She arrived home and noticed that his car wasn’t there. El spent most of his time on Kauai, where he had a house, so he tended to use a Dillon car when on Oahu. The calmer pace and, for some reason, the chickens seemed to keep his nightmares manageable.
Pushing her worry about her brother to the back of her mind, she decided to hurry and change her clothes. All day in her work clothes, and she was ready for some relaxation.
She was just stepping off the bottom step when there was a sharp knock at her door. After looking at her doorbell cam, she made her way to the door. Ian had a bag of food in one hand and a gym bag in the other. They all carried “go” bags in their cars. You never knew when things would go sideways.
“That smells amazing,” she said, taking the L & L bag from him. “You know where the bathroom is.”
He nodded and headed off to change. She’d barely eaten, even having access to the set food. Her stomach had churned all day, leaving her slightly nauseous, so she had kept her snacking light. She pulled out the containers of food, noting that he had bought an extra loco moco for her brother. Her brother, who was nowhere to be found. The one who would be royally pissed about her divulging their secrets.
But they had to trust someone. Someone other than each other and Lila/Sam. This case was spiraling out of control.
“That is damned better than wearing a suit,” Ian said as he strode into her kitchen wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.
“Oh, Ian, sounds like you’re becoming accustomed to living in Hawai’i,” she said with a smile.
“Maybe,” he said, grabbing his container. “I don’t know how you just slipped into life here without flinching.”
Because she had lived a lie most of her life. Ian might have been raised by spies, but he had been left out of the loop until he was old enough to understand. Her family had been working with the CIA—and its precursor, the OSS—for four generations. When the world thought all you did was drill for oil, you had to put a face on it. She had become that face when she turned twenty-two, but she and El had known long before that. They had also moved around more than some military BRATS she knew.
“Goes with the embassy work my folks did for years.”
“Are we eating in here?”
She waited a second or two, then made her final decision.
“No. Grab your food—did you want a drink?”
“Just water. I have a feeling this is going to be a night where alcohol isn’t the best thing to have on hand.”
He had no idea. They both grabbed a glass of water, then their food containers, and she led him back to her hidden room. When the door slid open, he chuckled.
“My sister would be so thrilled about this.”
“Don’t tell her about this. I don’t want to tell you, but since you’re my partner, you have a right to know.”
She led him into the room, and his eyes widened when he saw all the information amassed on their boards.
“Bloody hell.”
“I know, it’s a bit much.”
“It’s freaking brilliant,” he said, setting his container down before moving closer. “So all of these people are dead?”
“Yes. There were more, but these are the ones we think are the core of who were targeted.”
“Motive?”
This is why she’d decided to tell him. She and El had always worked for the CIA, but they didn’t do a lot of investigative work.
“Not sure,” she said.
“Then why did you zero in on them?”
“Because of the lack of motive. All of them had enemies, you can’t work intelligence without acquiring some.”
“True.”
“But the one thing that stood out for them all was the lack of motive. Most of them did have open cases, but nothing that would have linked them together.”
