Page 91 of Fear of Flames
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Michelle made the decision that she had survived the scene she just wrote. She survived more than the initial trauma. She wasn’t going to get taken out in her sleep.
Step by step, she moved toward the bedroom door. The Sig Sauer was lighter than Fletch’s Glock. Her earlier trembling was gone, replaced with determination. Light spilled from below the door to Fletch’s office. Michelle was certain it wasn’t on when she went to bed.
“It’s just Fletch,” she told herself on repeat. The gun was still in her grasp, her finger on the trigger guard. She pushed open the door to his office.
“Shelly.”
Michelle lowered the gun at the familiar light-green stare. “What are you doing in here?”
“I didn’t realize you were living with Arrow,” Peterson said, sitting behind the computer she used in this room.
She kept the gun at her side. He was lying. “You came here to see me after the press conference in Indianapolis.”
Peterson stood. His smile seemed forced. “You’re right. I must have forgotten. I apologize if I woke you. I obviously wasn’t thinking. You see, I was looking for the hard drive you’ve been working on.”
“Why?”
He motioned to the living room. “We should talk.”
There was that same tone, the one that expected obedience.
Michelle was done with loyal obedience. “It’s the middle of the night. We can talk tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Does this have anything to do with Fletch and Leo’s mission?” she asked.
“It does.” Peterson looked around the room. “If you will give me the hard drive, I’ll be on my way.”
“Fletch had it.”
Peterson’s voice hardened. “He didn’t have it. Leo didn’t have it. It’s not in the complex computer lab. That only leaves here.”
This wasn’t right. The small hairs on the back of Michelle’s neck stood to attention. She took a step backward. “I think you should leave.”
“Shelly, Arrow and Leo encountered a problem.”
Her breathing hitched. “Are they all right?”
He shook his head. “They encountered security at the target’s residence. There was an exchange of gunfire.”
“At Arron Nelson’s house? Was Fletch shot?” She could hardly form the words.
Peterson’s smile disintegrated as he pulled a gun from behind his back. “I wish you didn’t know that name, Shelly.” He took a step closer. “Give me your gun.”
“You’re telling me Fletch is dead?” In her heart of hearts, Michelle knew that wasn’t true. They were connected, bonded in flames. If he were dead, she’d know it. She would feel it, the way she felt the loss when her father died.
“Give me your gun.”
“You’re working for Arron Nelson,” she said. It was the perfect plot twist, one she wished she’d have realized a minute earlier.
Peterson took another step toward her.
Michelle lifted her gun. “That’s how Arron Nelson avoided arrest during the takedown of Crossroads. You’re on his payroll. You allow the little people to be found to make the agency appear effective.”
“We do good work. Your father and mother did good work.”
Peterson’s finger moved, but Michelle’s finger was already on the trigger.
