Page 55

“Uh, no thank you,” said Jack.

“I have intel.”

Jack shifted in his kitten heels, trying to make sense of the whole situation. It wasn’t every day, or even most days, that his nosiest colleague popped a head over the cubicle and muttered cryptic phrases at him. In fact, despite all the nosing, The Eagle rarely said much of anything at all.

“Intel?” Jack whispered back.

“Come with me,” The Eagle repeated.

Jack contemplated the ham sandwich in his bag. He’d grabbed it from the grocery store on his way in that morning and it already looked as though it had seen a good handful of previous mornings before he’d purchased it. Was a clandestine meeting with his mysterious coworker the more appealing option of the two? He looked back up at The Eagle and decided that, by a very narrow margin, maybe.

The Eagle led Jack into the same accessible toilet Jack had used as a soundproof booth for his secret phone calls and Jack found himself hoping this guy wasn’t looking for a little bit of workplace romance. The Eagle clicked the door lock and let his bony shoulders relax.

“You’ve been hiding something,” he said, his words indicating that, while he may not have been expecting a fling after all, Jack might very well still be screwed.

“I have?” Jack swallowed hard. If anyone in the office might be onto the fact that Margaret wasn’t really Margaret these days, it would be The Eagle. Had Jack let something slip? Something his office neighbor’s unnervingly sharp hearing could have picked up? Was the whole “intel” thing a ruse to trap Jack into a confrontation? He’d spent all morning wondering if it was even worth holding on to this second life, but now, faced with the possibility of having it taken away, he knew he wasn’t done yet.

“You have,” said The Eagle. “But I know what’s going on here.”

Jack took stock of his options. The Eagle stood a solid foot and a half taller than Jack’s borrowed body, opening up the possibility of a good head ram to the stomach. He could strike out, knock The Eagle to the floor, and flee. He’d have to leave the city, maybe even the state, but he could start over again, a third life in a second body. The You Agains could come with him. They didn’t have anything keeping them here. Carter could find another job somewhere else, and Eli could start fresh. Greer—well, Greer would never have run away with him even if she didn’t have a family, would she? After last night, he didn’t feel he could say much about her for certain.

He braced, ready to strike.

“You’ve been asking around about the archivist,” The Eagle continued.

Jack unbraced just a little.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. What did that have to do with anything?

“It’s an important job,” said The Eagle. “One of the most important at each branch. The information keepers. So why did they replace ours in such a hurry?”

“Because Gerard died,” Jack said, trying to catch up to this new conversational direction.

The Eagle tutted. “Investigate the archivist, then you’ll have your answers.”

“My answers to what?” Jack tried. Why couldn’t the man just speak plainly?

“You’ll know when you find them.”

“This is weird,” said Jack. “You see this is weird, right? Why can’t you just tell me what you know?”

“Because I value my job,” said The Eagle. “But I also value the truth. You’re seeking it already, I’m just doing my part to help you find it.”

Jack chewed his lip, mind still a few steps behind wherever they’d landed in this bizarre discussion.

“Okay, but—”

“The archivist,” The Eagle said again. Then, with what might have been a salute, he shuffled out of the bathroom, leaving Jack with a head full of swirling questions and the bashful hope that no one in the office had seen them go in there together.

34

Jack stopped mid-step halfway up the concrete path from the driveway to Margaret’s house. Someone sat hunched on the front stoop, just in front of the doorway, knees tucked to chest.

“Greer?”

Greer’s sandy head rose. She looked at him, then quickly looked away. In a flourish of limbs, she rose to her feet and hurried down the lawn, brushing past Jack.

“I shouldn’t have come,” she muttered as she made her way to the curb.