Assistant Special Agent in Charge, Moore’s call this morning came at the right moment. An excuse to leave Silver Lake Falls before the numbness faded and I had to unpack what Jackie said. What she believed about me.
All these years bending myself into something more notable. More polished. Something she might find enough.
I never imagined there was something even worse than my lack of pedigree standing between us.
She didn’t trust me. Not with the truth. Not with my feelings for her.
The door finally opens, letting out the hum of clipped voices and chairs scraping the floor. Grayson Moore steps out mid-call, spots me, and pauses. Just enough to take me in. The sharp suit can’t hide the fact that I look like I’ve been awake for days.
Moore, on the other hand, in his late forties, maybe early fifties, wears the aura of authority with stiff grace. The pressure of the last few years on the job has worn him around the edges. Leading the Cyber and Counterintelligence division will do that to you. Politics will finish the job.
He ends the call and pockets his phone, eyeing the paper cup in my hand.
“You know better than to bribe me so blatantly.”
Moore angles toward the elevators, and we fall into step. I hand him the cup. “You sounded like you needed one.”
After a beat, he takes it. “Well, that happens when I get a call from a very pissed off Section Chief at the crack of dawn.” He shoots me a sideways glance.
He doesn’t say it, but we both know. I was the one to get the ball rolling.
Six years ago, when Moore was still an SSA, I tipped him off. Someone with the right last name had screwed up a big case, anddaddy’s office was ready to throw Moore under the bus for it.
By sheer coincidence, a staffer from the father’s office let it slip. I couldn’t ignore it.
Moore came from a blue-collar family, same as me. The job at Turner’s office was never just a résumé filler in my career. It was sleepless nights at my desk, knowing what any mistake could cost me. It made me feel exposed. I didn’t sit in the break room casually discussing ski trips, donor dinners, and private schools with the other staffers my age.
He had the kind of career trajectory you notice if you pay attention. Turns out my intuition was spot on.
“You need anything?” I ask.
“I want to understand how this landed on DOJ’s end.” Moore’s face gives nothing away.
That’s why his boss was in a mood.
A month ago, after Jackie left me writhing in pain on the stairs, I flew back to New York. Met with a former acquaintance from my Turner days, who now works at the DOJ. On the surface, it probably looked like a date. Jackie’s accusations rip through my thoughts. Everything looks like a date once doubt and suspicion settle in.
The woman confirmed that the FBI doesn’t investigate everything equally. But, off the record, she told me which phrases trigger internal alarms, and I’ve been using them. In every Rawlings statement and interview.
My plan to get them to investigate faster worked.
“Maybe because it’s not just another ransomware hit,” I say. “It impacts government contracts.”
Moore takes a sip of coffee before speaking again.
“I’ve shifted some resources around. Accelerated approvals.” He nods at a pair of men in suits as we round the corner. “If this blows into a major federal scandal,” he says, motioning his hand between us, “we’ll need to manage the optics before the DOJ gets jumpy again.”
We.
I’ve been chasing a place in this world for so long, I didn’t even notice. That I’m already here.
“What I’m hearing is youareon to something.”
“Apparently, my team can do its job even without the entire top floor breathing down my neck,” he deadpans, giving me one of those severe looks they perfect at Quantico.
“I never doubted it.” I give him a thin smile. The Bureau was too slow. “My priority is my client.”
“Look.” We stop in front of the elevator doors, and Moore looks around briefly before lowering his voice. “I don’t want any more surprises. It would be helpful to know about other briefing requests, before I’m called in to be handed my ass.”
