He frowned, perplexed. “The Queen B offered you one.”
“Not as a therapist.” She swallowed her reservations and stiffened her resolve. “I’ll do that for free. What I mean is, is there anything menial around her I can help with? Paperwork? Laundry? Cleaning?”
“A Ph.D. scrubbing toilets?”
“It’s honest work.”
His expression took on a look of approval. “We clean our own. Do our own laundry, too. Actual paperwork is mostly nonexistent—our internal system is paperless—but I could use someone to comb databases for me.”
“Requirements?”
He grinned and showed her his collection of dirty coffee cups. “Keep me caffeinated and know how to use a computer.”
“What’s the pay? I need to make rent and buy a wardrobe. Nothing fancy, but some jeans that actually fit and shirts that aren’t white and read Hanes on the tag.”
A rough laugh. “Not up to your standards, Doc?”
“They’re men’s t-shirts, and while I’ve been known to throw one on in the past”—specifically Ian’s, after a round of lovemaking—“I’d like to feel feminine again after the prison jumpsuit.”
“I need you for six hours a week to start, more if you’re adequate at it. That will cover yourrent.” He handed her a cup. “We mostly barter around here, our skills in exchange for a decent place to live and work. As far as the wardrobe, you’ll have to talk to Beatrice about that.”
Of course she would. She took the mug, found the nearest breakroom and scrubbed the stains out of it. Menial work, indeed, but it felt good to focus on something so simple. She returned with it clean and full a few minutes later. “Okay, boss, what’s next?”
Two hours later, the data she’d been scanning endlessly had made her eyes bug out. She’d impressed Rory, though, finding two different links he’d been searching for to a terrorist organization on SFI’s radar. “I need a break,” she told him.
“I’m surprised your pointman hasn’t already swooped in to get you.”
“My what?”
“The person Beatrice assigned as your liaison.” At her blank look, he went on. “For your first thirty days, you get an instructor, a guide, who coaches you. They walk you through how we do things here and make sure to answer your questions. We’ve found that assimilation back into civilian life goes smoother if there’s someone you can talk to, and who checks on you regularly. None of us likes to ask for help, but you can, you know. Ian hasn’t been here long himself, so he may not have all the answers. You hit me up, if need be.”
“Ian?” She thought it over. “Why do you assume he’s my pointman?”
“Uh, by the way he’s keeping an eye on you?”
This was said with a tone suggesting she was dense. Maybe she was. She honestly hadn’t been aware of him, but then hewasa former SEAL. He knew how to move in the shadows and go unnoticed. And here, she thought she was doing that to him. “No one has informed me that I have an official guide, but thanks for the offer. Would it be possible for me to do some personal research this week?”
“Within limits, sure. As we were just discussing, it’s imperative I keep our system secure.”
“Of course. I certainly don’t want to jeopardize that. I’ll run everything past you, okay?”
He nodded, then gave her a look filled with scrutiny. “If you want to dig into your past, let me do it.”
She shook her head. “My past, my research.”
“I’ll make sure you don’t trip any wires or fall into any traps set up by Command & Control. You feel me?”
Once again, she struggled to hide her surprise. “You know about C&C?”
He gave her a cunning smile as his response.
“Okay, then. I also need to research info on child psychology and dream analysis.”
“Give your eyes a rest and when you come back, I’ll set you up with internet access.”
“Thanks.” Before she lost her nerve, she took the plunge. “I could use some intel on…”
Her throat locked up. Why couldn’t she say the name? She needed to know what had gone down that night from the reports. What had been written about it afterwards. All of it would be classified.