Fingers steepled in front of his lips, Hunt’s friend purses his lips for the longest time while I sweat.
Finally, mind made up, his gaze meets mine. “This isn’t going to be easy to hear. Dante made thousands of dollars working for Bourdin.”
“No.” The undigested food in my bowels churns. “That’s not possible.”
The room fills with fog. Back in my car on the night in question, I call Rob. “I’m outside Lamoille’s farm. Please. Send help.” But, if he was dirty…
Oh God. The past disappears. Now, I’m back in the office, my vision sharper than it’s been in years.
The betrayal’s so obvious, my chest aches. “He set me up?”
“There can be no doubt. I’m sorry.” Using a much softer tone, the agent turns his laptop screen, scrolling through bank statements and text messages.
My fists clench. Dante ruined my life. This is so totally fucked up. "How could I have been so blind? So stupid? I deserve whatever’s coming."
Holding out my wrists for cuffs, I bite back a sob. “You can arrest me now. I’m ready.”
“For what?” Face skewed, he picks up a ringing cell phone and presses mute.
Was he not listening to anything I said?“I knew noncitizens were crossing over the border. I should’ve stopped them.”
“Robert was your direct superior, employed by DHS for over forty years. No one would’ve taken your word over his. Case closed. Put your hands down. Let’s go see if Hunt woke up yet.”
“Could you give me a moment?” I hate the weakness in my shaky voice. I don’t deserve kindness. Why doesn’t he see this is all my fault?
I was right. Emotions make you weak. It’s time to regroup, to roll back to who I was before Scott Hunter showed up. I need to lock this part of me away—this time, for good.
As soon as the door clicks shut, I squeeze my eyes tight. Alone, I rebuild the image of my mental box, then shove every stupid, useless feeling inside. Wrapping it in thick chains, I snap the padlock closed with a satisfying clunk, then hurl it into the ocean’s abyss.
Never, will I open it again.
Chapter 38
Hunt
“I’ll take ‘Noises’ for three hundred, Alex.”
The camera zooms in on the ghostly game show host. “The answer is: beep-beep, hushed voices, clanking, TVs, and squeaky food carts.”
I slam my palm on the buzzer. “What are hospital sounds?”
My pal Wulf answers instead of Trebek. “Yeah, we’re in Burlington. Welcome back.”
“Hey, since when are frogs allowed on Jeopardy?” I assume the voice belongs to me—why else stick a straw in my mouth? Swallowing hard, I lift my eyes to my friend’s grin.
His punch to my shoulder is gentle but firm. “You were supposed to count undocumented aliens, not sheep.”
For some reason, this strikes me as hilarious. I laugh until a white-hot pain stabs my side. When I throw back the sheets, I expect to find a knife lodged there. Instead, a thick bandage stares back, covered in plastic wrap.
Oh, yeah. I was shot.“Where’s Kelly?”
Wulf tilts his head toward the hall. “Right outside. She’s anxious to see you.”
After the door swings open, in walks the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.
Face bruised, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, she smiles shyly. The light catches behind her head, creating a halo or perhaps it’s the drugs.
Her hand fits perfectly as she squeezes my fingers. “How ya doin’, Wildlife?”
