Page 41 of The Blonde Identity

“We have to find my sister.” That time, Zoe’s voice was soft. “We have to find her before they—”

“They already have her!” He hadn’t meant to say it, and he really hadn’t wanted to shout, but she had to know... She had to brace herself because... “The CIA probably had her before you even woke up from your nap yesterday. And that’s the literal best-case scenario—that she’s tied up with a bag over her head in some government facility that doesn’t officially exist, because...” He trailed off because there were some things even he wasn’t callous enough to say.

“What’s the other scenario?” She drew the robe tight around her in a way that had nothing to do with skimpy nighties.

But he was shaking his head. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“What’s the other scenario?” She looked like someone bracing for a hit, trying to convince themselves they’re tough enough to take it.

“Don’t, Zoe—”

“What is it?”

It was harder than it should have been to admit, “Kozlov has her.”

“And she’s dead?” Her voice cracked.

She wanted the truth—needed it on some level—and that’s the only reason he said, “And she’s not.”

She was silent for a long time—perfectly still—but then she bolted off the bed and across the room. She reached for the sliding glass door and tried to open it, but the safety latch was on, and no matter how she tried, she got nowhere. Story of his life.

“Zoe...”

“This darn...”The door rattled and banged.

“Zoe...”

She slammed her palm into the glass, so he reached around her to release the latch. The door slid open, and she rushed outside and gripped the rail.

“I could be wrong,” he told her, but she just stood there, pulling frigid air into her lungs like she wanted to freeze herself from the inside out.

“That happen a lot?” She cut a look over her shoulder.

“More than I’d like.” He wasn’t making a joke and he didn’t smile.

“Is there anything... Is there anything I can do to help her?”

He’d lain beside her all night, listening to her breathe and coming up with plans—dozens of them—one after the other. But there wasn’t a single option where she wasn’t likely to get hurt, and Alex would hate him if he got her sister killed. Worse, he was pretty sure he’d hate himself. So that’s what made him say, “No.”

His hands were on her shoulders then, turning her, making her look at him—making her see.

“I may be wrong, Zoe. Alex is smart and ruthless and... If I was going to bet on anyone, it would be her. They may not have her. Hell, she may have them, for all I know. I just... I just want you to know that in this business... in this life... people like Alex—and me—we don’t get a happy ending.”

She looked at him with more pity and compassion than he’d seen in decades. “Then what do you get?”

Not you, he thought.I’ll never get you.He wasn’t sure where that thought had come from but, in the end, it didn’t matter.

“If we’re lucky? Another mission.”

“Okay.” She belted the robe tight and looked out over the icy landscape. “And us?”Us? Us? There is no...“Then what do we do? What doIdo? Where do I go? What... What do I do?”

As a spy, there were three questions Sawyer asked every moment of every day.

Who can I trust?

What do I need?

And how do I get out?

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