He exits to the hallway and I shut my eyes. I’m tired, so very tired. More tired than I’ve ever been in my life. But I make a mental note to make Jack’s sister the new face of Chanel. Then I can love it the way he loves her, not in the way Jess thought she loved me.
Chapter Eighty-Eight
The next day I’m released from the hospital, and at my parents’ prodding, I agree to stay at their place. At this point, I’m simply not ready to go back to my loft or the library. So much so that I officially take a month of leave from work to get my head on straight and decide what comes next for me.
I mean, how do I ever return to the place where Jess died?
The place where I ended her life?
Over the next few days, Mike and numerous other FBI agents from the task force visit with me and ask me questions. Part of my own mental health is helping them, doing all I can do to give them anything I can to stop what happened to me from happening to someone else.
The task force controls what the media knows. Jess’s attack and mine were reported as part of a random attack, someone who followed us into the library from the parking lot door. It’s all part of their need to control not what the media knows but what DC9 knows.
It’s Mike, though, who I save my questions for, and he proves more than willing to offer honest answers, even if they are not the ones I’d prefer. On one occasion, while sharing coffee on my parents’ patio, I actually bring a list of open-ended topics and hit him with them all at once. “There was a cleaning guy at the bookstore under my loft. Was Ben involved with DC9?”
“Ben has disappeared. We can’t find him. So, yes, we do believe he had involvement, but based on his work history, his background check,and a number of other factors, he was a real person who was probably paid to aid DC9.”
“But he disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“Is he dead?”
“Or paid well enough to start a new life.”
“In other words, he might be dead,” I say.
“Yes, Mia. He might be dead.”
“Thank you for being honest.”
“Of course,” he says. “What else?”
“There was a man at the library who was even in a presentation I gave. He had dark hair and always sat on floor two. There should be a camera feed from the library to show him.”
“We’ve looked at the camera feed, and yes, we’re aware of this man. We can’t identify him. The library believed him to be a financial performance auditor hired by an investor, but that proved to be false. He also showed up right when DC9 was on scene and disappeared when they disappeared.”
“How did you know when DC9 was on scene?”
“The journal I told you about, the one Jess kept, was a treasure chest of information.”
A part of me wants to read the journal, while another part wants to do what I have too often done in my life: hide from what I might find. “What did it say about the man?”
“He was there to monitor you and those around you, but he was also there to ensure you knew you were not invisible anymore. He and Adam combined were supposed to help you feel pretty and worthy of male attention.”
My cheeks heat. “God. This is so embarrassing.” I don’t give him time to reply. I don’t want to know what he will say. “Can I read it? Perhaps I can help you understand some things.”
“I don’t think you really want to see this side of your friend, and we’re already talking to you about the missing pieces as we discover them.” He tries to move on and prods, “What else?”
“She wasmy friend, Mike, a sister in my heart. I need to know more about what happened to her, which also happened to me. I feel guilt, real guilt, over the people who died. She hired DC9 because of me.”
His lips press together, and he gives a quick nod. “I’ll see if I can get you a copy of the journal, but it may be a while.”
“I don’t know if I can wait that long for answers.”
He studies me a moment and says, “Her spiral started several years back, as we suspected and as her therapist confirmed. That’s when she went off her meds. She told her therapist they were dulling the way she looked at life.”
“Did she write about me?”
