She walked confidently toward the aircraft and River just smiled at her swaying ass. It was well after midnight and they should be home long before daybreak but there was still a lot to weed through and find clarity.
“She the one?” asked Wes.
“Definitely, Grandpa. But as we’ve said on more than one occasion, something is rotten in Denmark.”
“Let’s talk.”
Thirty minutes later they were airborne and headed to the southwest. Priscilla kept listening intently, trying to hear the sounds of the rotors or jets but she heard nothing.
“This is the strangest bird I’ve ever been on,” she said looking around. From the outside it seemed of average size to any Osprey. But on the inside, it was as if you’d hit a magic button and there was double the space. How was it all possible?
“It’s something we’re very proud of,” said Patrick. “If you weren’t aware, G.R.I.P. is our company.”
“G.R.I.P. the weapons and tech geniuses that everyone wants? Holy cow,” she said staring at the men. “Even at the bureau I’ve had to beg for new equipment and often didn’t get it. Listen. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the very attractive escorts, but, why? I feel as though you’re not telling us something.”
“Beautiful and smart,” smirked Wes. “Keep her.”
“Thank you. I think,” she frowned. “But we’ve just met. I mean, we had one date, a half a date over coffee and then discovered Celine.”
“It was a full date,” grinned River. “But she’s right. We’ve only just met.”
“Doesn’t matter,” smirked Angel. Priscilla stared at him with a questioning gaze. “I met my wife while shopping for some friends who just had babies. She helped me find the perfect gifts, I asked her to coffee, and then I proposed to her.”
“That’s crazy,” she whispered.
“Is it?” smirked Wes. “I met my wife when we were kids. We grew up together in Louisiana.” Priscilla looked at River’s father.
“Oh, I met my wife, a humanitarian aid worker while she was trying to save a child from being forced to marry an elder in a local tribe. Pretty much proposed within the first week.”
“That’s not normal,” she said matter-of-factly.
“No,” laughed River, “I suppose it’s not but it is in our family. We don’t have anyone that’s had a long, drawn-out relationship.”
“I need a minute here. Am I being kidnapped for marriage, am I being protected from something, or am I using my paid leave? I’m very confused.”
“It could be a little of all of that,” smirked Angel.
“Explain. Please,” she said straightening in the seat.
“I like her. To the point,” said Wes. “Celine Johnstone isn’t a real person.”
Priscilla stared at the men, then at River and back again. She thought perhaps they were losing their minds. Or maybe she was and should have never gotten in the plane with them.
“She was a very real person,” said Priscilla. “I worked with her for almost four years.”
“You worked with her but it wasn’t Celine Johnstone,” said Patrick. “Celine Johnstone died at just eight months old. Her social security number was used by the woman you knew as Celine.”
“How was this not caught by the bureau?” she asked.
“We’re going to look into that. The woman you knew as Celine, as of right now, is anonymous. We have no clue who she is, was. At this very minute, we have a team of people scouring her home for prints.”
“But the police did that,” she said.
“They did a shitty job,” said Wes. “Forgive the language. They did a terrible job. We knew they would. We’ve got five of our best men in there right now looking through everything.”
“But it’s a crime scene,” said Priscilla. “You could be jailed for this.”
River looked at her, then back at the men around her. He knew she was struggling with bending rules. Priscilla was a rule follower, which was what attracted him to her.
