Costello came in a few minutes later with his usual apology and Lachlan mumbled his usual ‘whatever’ around his substitute cigarette.
“Okay, now that we’re all here, let’s get started.” Lachlan tossed his phone aside and Nash started with his report, his smooth Southern accent making an account of a thwarted attack on a principal sound like a bedtime story. Camden pretended to listen politely and jot down notes—meetings were not his thing. They weren’t Gina’s either, he’d noticed. She never took notes, tapping the side of her head and saying ‘Got it all in here’ instead. And she did—Gina could rattle off verbatim anything she’d heard. She would neither confirm nor deny her time with the CIA, which was all the answer anyone really needed. That earned her the handle Spooky—which again, she’d neither confirm nor deny that she liked.
When Camden’s turn came, he stuck to status reports on the rookies’ training. He didn’t mention the Bennett assignment per Lachlan’s instructions, though Jake knew and had plans to go with him that afternoon. The meeting was mercifully brief and Camden was the first out the conference door, eager to get on with his day.
So when he walked into his office, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he looked up and saw Gina already standing beside the window.
“I want on the team,” she said, arms crossed as she casually leaned against the wall.
Camden closed the door. “What the hell, Spooky? Lachlan told you?”
“He didn’t have to.” Her brief Greta Garbo smile said,silly man.
“You’re the one who provided the chatter, aren’t you?”
“I can neither confirm—”
“Nor deny that, yeah, okay, I hear you.” Camden grinned. “I’d be an idiot not to let you on the team.”
“Glad you see it that way. And thank you.”
“Do you want to tag along this afternoon to meet Bennett?”
“No need.” Gina tucked a lock of her dark brown bob behind her ear then walked to the door. Before leaving, she added, “Just for the record, if I thought you were an idiot, I’d be leading the team myself. I told Lachlan you were the man for the job and he couldn’t agree more.”
Wow. Camden had never known Gina to be so transparent. Or complimentary. “Thanks.”
Gina’s smile returned. “Thankyou. It’s one of the few things about this company he and I can agree on.”
* * *
“She really said that?” Jake asked as Camden drove them to Bennett’s house.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that Spooky thinks I don’t suck.”
Jake laughed. “You know, I can’t findanythingabout her online outside her cover. It’s deep.”
“And I doubt she’s ever going to break it.”
“So, you think she’s moonlighting at Watchdog and still with the CIA?”
“Who knows? Could be the other way around, seeing as she’s part-owner.” Camden pulled up to the guardhouse for Bennett’s neighborhood. “But I still wouldn’t give her Elena’s secret barbeque sauce recipe.”
“Spooky probably already has it. And…wait, when did Elena give you a secret recipe?”
Camden just smiled, remembering the safehouse back in Nebraska, and rolled down his window. Before he could speak, the guard in the booth slid open the window and said, “IDs please.” They handed their licenses over and the guard took extra-long to examine them, then Camden’s and Jake’s faces, then back to the licenses.
Finally, he said, “You’re cleared to meet Mr. Bennett. Take an immediate right, then go left on Palm and it’s the second house on the right. Have a nice day.” The window snapped closed again, but not before Camden saw a bank of screens with various shots of the neighborhood’s streets.
“Well. Friendly, open neighborhood.” Camden said as he pulled forward.
“Yeah. Unless the agent already knows Bennett, they’re not getting in here easily.”
“So we’ll keep an eye on any new friends the man makes.”
Bennett’s house was a typical Mediterranean-style with tall palm trees and neatly-clipped hedges. They walked up the brick path and one of the double doors opened just as they got to the porch. Bennett himself greeted them with a warm smile and stockinged feet.
“Howdy, glad you could make it. Hey, if you don’t mind, could I ask you to take off your shoes? Cici’s pretty protective of the floors.” He pointed to a small Persian rug with several pairs of shoes lined up on it to the side of the door.
