“You were placed in Calusa Cove to watch Sterling and the people around him. Not to reopen Mark’s death.”
“What exactly is Pike doing for you?” she asked.
“You know I can't tell you that," Bea said. “I’m starting to worry about you.”
“Why? Because I’m making a connection between Shrike, Doyle, Sterling, and a man who survived the raid that killed my husband,” Juniper said.
“When it comes to Pike, you're making a huge leap. He wasn’t part of Mark's death, and he's not part of this. You're not focused. You're spiraling, and that's not good. You remember what happened the last time you did that?”
"I'm not losing my mind." Juniper had spent years listening to suspects lie. They covered things in different ways. Some talked too much. Some repeated the question. Some gave clean answers to dirty questions because they’d practiced in the mirror.
"I need you to focus on Sterling and the job, or I'm pulling you."
"You can't do that."
"I can and I will."
Juniper reached for her water bottle and took a drink because her mouth had gone dry. “I'm focused.”
“I’ll look into pulling you.”
“Don't do that. I'm fine." Juniper hated the plea in her own voice. Hated that she had to use it. Hated more that it might work. “Give me a day. Let me get my head straight. If I still sound like this tomorrow, then we talk about extraction.”
“One day,” Bea said. “You stay close to routine. You do not chase Pike. You do not confront Sterling about anything outside your assignment, and you do not let Nick pull you into whatever he and Sterling are building.”
“Understood.”
"Take care of yourself."
The line cut.
Juniper stood in the buzz of the fluorescent light and listened to the pub breathe around her.
Bea had lied.
Not a small lie. Not a protective lie.
A lie with teeth.
Juniper closed Mia’s report, shut down the secure window, and sat back in the chair for one second. Maybe two. Long enough to keep from picking up the laptop and throwing it at the wall.
Then she locked everything down, slid the computer into the drawer, and stepped out of the office.
Manny had the kitchen door propped open with a case of tomatoes, and steam rolled out from somewhere inside. Juniper moved past it, through the short hall, and into the bar.
Sterling sat on his usual stool. Of course he did. One elbow on the bar, one hand wrapped around a glass of water, his gaze already fixed on her. He pushed off the stool the second she reached the bar. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
She glanced around the room. Tara was near the far end of the bar with two regulars. Manny had disappeared back into the kitchen. A couple from out of town sat in the corner booth arguing over a map on a phone. Normal. All of it normal.
None of it safe.
Sterling lowered his voice. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I need air,” she said.
