Chapter 51
“Take a seat.”
Con and Alex did.
“I was going to fire you today,” the Special Agent in Charge said. No, I’m glad that you’re okay. Good job stopping Edward Samuelson before anyone else got hurt.
Just, I was going to fire you today.
At least there’s a was in there, Alex thought, grasping at straws. She still wasn’t sure what she was going to do, what she was going to say.
If she was going to follow Con’s advice and reveal the truth to Marcus Allen or if she was going to stick by his side, sinking ship or not.
“Before you do anything, let me bring you up to speed.”
Marcus looked like he wanted to object but at the last minute forced himself to stay quiet.
Con told Marcus about the videos, about the extortion material, the presumed rape, Julia murdering her husband.
The entire time, Alex watched Marcus’ expression.
It didn’t change at all, and she thought that this was probably how Edward had looked while recording and later splicing the videos into IP’s pirated releases.
It was haunting.
“Now, our colleague over at the OC Post is currently writing an article, an exposé, if you will, about everything that happened since Martin Yeo invited the FBI in on this case. I’ve instructed him to paint you in a highly favorable light. As it stands, it was your brilliance that helped solve the case.”
“What are you talking about, Agent Striker?”
Con held up a finger.
“Now, I’m not going to sit here and say that we have final editorial approval on Dwight Dozier’s article, which, by the way, will be read by millions in this sick, gossip-hungry city, but one phone call and…”
Now Marcus reacted.
He snarled. But when he spoke next, the man’s words weren’t directed at Con but Alex.
“Well, I might have to give this Dwight fella a call. Because I, too, have a story to tell. You see, I just got off the phone with the Head Medical Examiner for the State of California. He confirmed that Edward Samuelson died from a gunshot wound to the chest. But here’s the thing, he mentioned that the man’s hyoid bone was snapped and that there was suspicious bruising around his throat. He wants to know if he should include this information in the official report. What do you think, Agent Frost?”
Alex broke into a cold sweat.
Now’s your chance. Marcus is offering you one final opportunity to come clean, to throw Con under the bus.
You can still save your career, Alex. Tell him that Con strangled the helpless man.
She cleared her throat.
“What do I think? I think that the desert is a bumpy place. I think maybe when he flipped our car, Mr. Samuelson might have struck his throat on the steering wheel.”
Fuck it, I’m going down with the Titanic. My heart will go on. My career, maybe not.
Marcus actually started to laugh. A dry, humorless chuckle.
“I thought you were smarter than that, Agent Frost. Director Stitts told me you were the smartest agent he’s seen in years, probably the smartest since Chase Adams. But obviously, he was wrong. Dead wrong.”
Con started to rise, but Alex pulled him back down.
“I guess so.”
“Your time in the FBI is numbered. Con will fuck up again and one of these times he’ll run out of favors, out of tricks up his sleeve. And when he falls—which he will—you’ll fall right with him. But for now, you’re going back to Quantico.”
Now, Con, unbelievably, laughed, too. The sound had the same brittle quality to it as Marcus’.
“Oh, about that. I reached out to Director Stitts earlier this morning.” This surprised Alex. She’d essentially passed out for twelve hours after the accident. Con hadn’t slept in maybe two days and yet he had somehow managed to keep his eyes open. “I told him about the exemplary job Agent Frost has done here. How she stopped a killer. How her work has, or will, lead to the arrests of four high-powered executives—if not arrests, then at least to their imminent downfall and cancellation. He wasn’t surprised. Like you said, he knows that Alex is smart. I also asked—no, requested —to make this—” Con moved a finger back in forth between himself and Alex, “—a more or less permanent partnership. You want to know what the Director said?”
Marcus looked as if he’d soiled himself.
“He said, and I quote, ‘I think that’s exactly what the FBI needs right now’. ” The wry grin fell off Con’s face as his eyes fell on Alex. “If, of course, that’s what you want.”
Alex didn’t hesitate.
“Yes.”
Con beamed.
“Get out of my office!” Marcus cried. “Get the fuck out of my office, both of you!”
Oh , Alex thought, this ship is definitely sinking. And I think I’m going to enjoy every last gulp of air before it goes under.