Tinted Windows

Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she was up to it or not. What she did know was that if she did nothing but sit around her apartment for another few days second-guessing everything she and Danielle had done and fabricated, she might just start to go a little crazy. She toyed with the idea of passing on the debrief and feigning sick again but only for a moment. There was a potential new case out there. Of course she was going to take it.

“Sounds good,” she said, still not having decided if this was true or not. “See you in half an hour.”

She rushed through getting dressed and then wolfed down a quick breakfast of cereal and toast before leaving. Even doing that was a welcome change. Routine was a great way to get back into the swing of things. Even though she had only been feeling dreary for the last five days, it was five days that had set her back mentally and emotionally. Yes, she had reported in to work but once she got there, she’d felt like nothing more than a mindless drone, her mind on about a million other things.

But now that she was reporting in to work to get the details on a potential case, it felt different. For the first time since leaving Texas, she felt like she might be able to start moving toward putting it all behind her.

When she arrived at work, she wasted no time. She headed straight for Johnson’s office, wondering what sort of case he’d have her on. For some reason, she had somehow gotten something of a reputation as the agent who cracked the seedy cases in suburbia, the ones involving rich and spoiled adults who spent far too much of their lives hiding secrets.

Seems like I’d fit right in some of those neighborhoods, she thought. Because as much as I want to deny it, I now have secrets that I’m never going to outrun.

When she got to Johnson’s office, she started for the seat she usually occupied on the front end of his desk. But then she saw that he wasn’t at his desk. Instead, he was sitting at the small conference room table at the back of his office. And he wasn’t alone. There was one other man and a woman sitting with him. She had seen the man before; his name was Beau Craddock and he was somewhere quite high up on the bureau’s ladder—above Director Johnson for sure. She had never seen the woman before, but if she was in the company of Craddock, Chloe assumed she was also from further up the food chain.

“Agent Fine,” Johnson said. “Please have a seat.”

“Okay…”

There was only one other seat at the table, right at the very end. She took it, giving polite little nods to those in attendance.

“Agent Fine, let me introduce you to Deputy Director Craddock and Special Council to the Director, Sarah Kirsch.”

Craddock and Kirsch said nothing. Kirsch did manage a rather fake-looking smile, though.

“We’d like to hear the timeline of events as they occurred when you were out in Texas to find your sister,” Craddock said.

A cold knot of dread wound its way through Chloe’s guts. She looked directly at Johnson, confused. “Sir, I’ve gone through this two different times—once with you and once with the police. Is this really necessary?”

“Honestly, probably not,” Kirsch said before Johnson could answer. “But as it stands, you showed up on the scene where a man who is currently wanted for kidnapping and abuse had his victim. So yes, your testimony is worth hearing.”

Johnson gave her a shrug and a little what-are-you-gonna-do look. “Sorry, Fine, but the fact that you happen to be closely related to the abductee and the abductor doesn’t let you slide. It has obviously attracted the attention of higher offices. But, as I told them, everything checks out. There’s nothing shady going on here. They’d just like to hear it themselves.”

Nothing shady, my ass, Chloe thought. If there was nothing shady, you would have told me this was happening when you called this morning. Instead, you blindsided me with it. You’re trying to trip me up, you bastard.

But what could she do?

She sat back in the chair, feeling like she had just willingly placed her foot into a bear trap.

CHAPTER TWO

Craddock started the questioning. When he did, he wore a very small smile. She was sure it was there to try to make her feel more at ease, but it made it look like he was enjoying the moment of putting her through this torture.

“Agent Fine, how did you happen to know where your sister was?”

The truth, of course, was that Danielle had called her from a pay phone. But the truth would damn them both. She pulled up the story they had come up with as they had buried their father and recited from it.

“Honestly, it was almost a lucky guess. When I knew something was going on, I started trying to think of places my father might take her. Danielle once lived in Millseed—during a time in her life when she was verbally confrontational with our father. She used to tell me that the one time she spoke with him—during a visit to see him in prison—he told her she belonged in a place like Millseed. A sorry excuse for a town, drying up and dying. He said it would be a terrible place to die but maybe that’s what she deserved.”

“Was your father always so dramatic and good with foreshadowing?” Kirsch asked.

“Forgive me if I don’t want to discuss my father’s personality with you,” Chloe said. “Is this about a profile on my father or questioning me once again about all that happened?”

Craddock and Kirsch exchanged a perturbed glance before carrying on. Johnson stared her down, his expression conveying a simple message: Watch your tone.

“Can you tell us exactly what happened when you arrived?” Kirsch asked.

“The place was easy to find,” Chloe said. “Danielle had told me stories about some of the not-so-lawful things she and some friends used to do out at that old warehouse. I had to stop at a store and ask how to get there. When I did get there, he had her tied to a chair and was slapping her. I confronted him, we fought a bit, and he managed to get away.”

“Define fight,” Craddock said.

“The use of fists to punch one another. Sometimes kicking. The attempt to better your opponent with physical force.”

“Agent Fine,” Kirsch said, “I suggest you take this inquiry seriously.”

“Oh, I am. And I took it seriously the other two times I was deeply questioned about it.” She took a moment here, taking a series of breaths to try to keep herself in control. “Look. I understand the need to understand it all and I fully accept my faults in trying to take matters into my own hands. But you have to understand…this is not just a case. This is my sister and my father and the whole deplorable history between us. I don’t particularly enjoy being put through this wringer again and again.”

Her little plea must have worked—somewhat, at least. Craddock and Kirsch exchanged a sorrowful look between them. They then looked to Johnson, who gave a small shrug.

“Of course we are trying to keep that in consideration,” Craddock said. Then, as if choosing each word carefully, he asked: “Do you think you injured him during the fight?”

So maybe her plea wasn’t as effective as she had thought. Angry, she went ahead and answered the question. She lied, saying she thought she may have landed a blow that could have resulted in a cracked or broken rib. It was an extra and useless detail, but in these sorts of interrogations, she knew that they would be looking for such details.

As they continued to question her, she became very aware of what, exactly, they were doing. They were having her go back over her story, making her retrace it from a different standpoint, seeing if she would change anything. They were trying to trip her up…she just wasn’t exactly sure why.

Maybe they found something that breaks the story apart, she thought. But this was doubtful. If that were the case, the questions would have been more direct and they may even make an accusation.

But no…instead, they were looking for cracks in her story. And Chloe did not intend to give them any.

But she wondered what this scenario might be like if Danielle was sitting in her seat. If they brought Danielle in and had her run through the story for a third time—in a more official setting with these stuffed suits surrounding her—would she crack?

It scared Chloe to think about it. So she did her best not to as she swallowed down her anger and continued to answer their questions like a good little girl.

***

It was quicker than she had been expecting when she sat down. Craddock and Kirsch took their leave fifteen minutes later. When they were gone, Johnson looked at her from across the table. Chloe was interested to see if he was going to try to play the sympathetic good guy or if he was going to side with the power duo that had just left his office.

“Sorry to make you go through that again,” he said.

“Are you? You seemed to do a good job of blending in with them.”

“Fine…I understand you’re under an immense amount of emotional pressure, but I still need you to mind your tone and your attitude. I’m trying to be as reasonable as I can, but I will certainly file a report for insubordination if you continue to address me and your other superiors in this smart-ass way.”

Still swallowing her anger and her pride down like some bitter pill, she nodded. “I understand. Now, can I go?”

“Yes. I believe you’ll find assignments on your desk. Wiretap detail and a research request from a field agent in Philadelphia, I believe.”

“Are you kidding me?”

She exited his office before he had time to offer an answer or an explanation. While she certainly did not think she was above the more trivial desk-oriented work that many agents endured on a weekly basis, it still seemed like a step back. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was a punishment of sorts—and if it was, she wondered how long she’d be mired in it.