Page 12 of Forever Gone

“It’s falling apart, Meg.”

“I sense you’re not happy.”

The faint amusement in Meg’s voice loosened Selena’s irritation without removing it.

A breeze moved across the lot, lifting grit around the tires. Beyond the school grounds, Eagleton’s main road curved between a hardware store and a low brick church. Morning traffic amounted to two pickups and a county bus carrying no visible passengers.

“I don’t know,” Selena said. “It’s weird being back permanently.”

“Nothing’s forever.”

“You keep saying that.”

Meg paused. “Because it’s true. If you set up and head the Harlan County office for a year or so, I am certain an opportunity to come back to the Washington office will present itself.”

Selena walked toward the front steps but stopped at the first one. The school’s double doors reflected her in pieces where the old glass had warped.

“And then what?” she asked. “The higher-ups in Washington welcome me back with open arms?”

“It’ll work out, Selena. We just need things to calm down.”

“Things were calm until they decided they weren’t.”

“You ruffled feathers here by going against them in a case that was covered by national press.”

“I disagreed with people who were wrong. It was about catching the real killer, not massaging their egos.”

“Yes, and you did it publicly, repeatedly, and in a way that allowed them to remember every word,” Meg said.

Selena shifted the phone to her other ear. “I was asked questions under oath.”

“I know.”

“I answered them to the best of my ability.”

“I know that, too. It isn’t fair. But I’m trying to protect you and your career.”

Meg’s voice had lost its humor. The change brought Selena back to a conference room in Washington, where three senior officials had asked why she bypassed a supervisory chain during an investigation. The answer had involved an endangered witness, withheld information, and a decision Selena would make again. That had not made the answer popular.

Meg continued, “This is the best option for you to do what you do best and not lose your career.”

Selena ran a thumb along the edge of her phone case.

The field office had been presented as an opportunity. A regional violent-crime post in an underserved county. A chance to develop better cooperation between federal agents and rural departments. The word exile never appeared in the paperwork, but the arrangement carried the same message.

“I suppose,” Selena said.

“You don’t have to sound so grateful.”

Selena looked at the place in dismay. “I’m standing in front of a condemned school pretending it’s a federal facility.”

“It isn’t condemned. Now you’re exaggerating, Selena.”

“Maybe.”

Meg sighed. “Send me the property report. I’ll push it again to see if we can get someone in to look at the place for you.”

“I already sent it after the IT team finished installing everything.”