“No.”
“When did you become aware of this?”
“When my sister told me yesterday.”
Agent Ruiz smiles. “Ms. Cahill, I want you to know that you’re not in trouble.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, that’s a damn relief.”
The smile disappears. “What was your relationship with Mr. Dave Lowell?”
“I didn’t have one.”
“You went on a couple of dates with him a few years ago.”
He knows because I told Nick. I close my eyes at that realization. Whatever I shared with Nick wasn’t private—he bared it all to his superiors and colleagues.
“Four years ago,” I can’t keep the bite out of my voice. “Yeah, I did.”
“And?”
I take a deep breath. My false bravado, my made-up bitchiness, all of it dissipating under the reality of the situation. “He told me he asked me out because my father suggested it, but he wasn’t interested in me.”
I got dumped by a sleazebag like Dave Lowell. That’s who I am. I forgot that for a while. If I hadn’t, I would’ve been suspicious of Nick, and I would’ve protected myself.
Even as I think that I know it’s not true.
I fell hard for Nick.
Dave was…convenient, and he asked me out. I didn’t have any feelings for him. When he said he found me boring and not D.C. material, I’d been hurt because they were hurtful words, but I wasn’t brokenhearted like I am now.
“Did your father talk to you about Mr. Lowell’s activities?”
A harsh laugh escapes me. “My father doesn’t talk to me at all, Agent Ruiz. He gives orders and expects them to be followed.”
My shoulders slump slightly. I can’t hold on to the pretense any longer.
I’m tired.
Broken.
Hurt.
“Why don’t I make this easy for you?” I say, licking my lips. “I know nothing about what my father does. And you know this because you talked to my sister. I have a flower shop on 1709 R Street NW, and I live in the apartment above it. I inherited the building from my grandmother, on my mother’s side, and six years ago I started Lucille’s, my flower shop, named after her.”
I pause because my throat hurts. Grandma Lucille would be disappointed in me for trusting so foolishly.
“I see my father, maybe, a couple of times a year, more in the past six months, because Nick asked me to say yes to his many invitations.” And like a chump, I just went ahead with it, believing him when he said,“Family is important, baby, you should try and patch things up with your father.”
Well, he obviously couldn’t say,“I need access to your father because I suspect he’s committing treason, so, say yes to the dinner party, baby.”
“Ms. Cahill,” Agent Ruiz says this kindly, “based on our review, we have no reason to believe you were aware of, or involved in, the investigation.”
“I was involved,” I reply bleakly, “I just didn’t know it.”
Agent Ruiz nods, his lips pursed.
The questions keep coming. I keep answering. And each one shaves me down until there’s less of me left to give.
