Chapter 15
“So, how have the first couple of weeks at the new job been going?”
“Umm…” Solace’s eyes widened on the full plate being placed in front of her, then flashed her gaze toward her mom.
There was no way she would be able to eat this.
If she’d been allowed to make her own plate, it would have had way less food.
But no matter how much she’d objected, her mom had insisted on serving her, saying, “I’ve finally got you home, so let me take care of you. ”
“It’s been good,” Solace said, trying hard not to gag while contemplating ways to keep Mariana Davidson from getting suspicious.
If she made it through this meal without rushing toward the bathroom, she’d look at it as a victory.
But it was questionable. She might be able to stomach some of the pasta salad, oven-baked Brussel sprouts, and roll.
But the fried pork chop smothered with gravy? Not a chance.
“I still can’t believe you quit the colonel.” Her mom took the seat across from her at the kitchen table, all while having no idea how her choice of words had cut. She hadn’t quit anyone.
“Neither could the team,” she said, hedging and attempting a smile, despite the nauseating smell wafting up from her plate. Her mom’s speculative golden-brown eyes, so much like her own, skewered her. She had to have been expecting Solace to dig into what was usually one of her favorite meals.
But that smell—not to mention her stomach—was telling her it was far from a favorite this time. Maybe if she just cut the pork chop up and ate little pieces along with some of the pasta and vegetables, her mom wouldn’t notice.
Right.
“Mom, this is way too much,” she said, setting up her excuse for not cleaning her plate. Her mouth watered, but not in a good way, while cutting up her meat. “We had a big lunch late this afternoon.”
That was the truth. So, she hadn’t lied to her mother. It didn’t mean she’d eaten more than a few mouthfuls of that meal either, though.
“Well,” her mother said, frowning toward Solace’s plate. “Eat what you can, you’re looking too skinny. In fact.” Solace’s eyes widened in horror when her mom reached out for the gravy boat and poured more of the brown mixture onto her plate.
She has no idea she’s trying to kill me.
“So,” her mom continued, tilting her head as she lifted her own food-laden fork and gave Solace a pointed look. “You do like the job?”
“Yes.” Solace let out a long breath, while going back to cutting the meat into smaller-than-bitesize pieces and doing her best to inconspicuously scrape away the gravy.
This she could be truthful about. Working as an investigator for the District Attorney’s office had ended up being a job she could see herself wanting to keep.
“And you’re working directly for Declan’s sister?”
“Yes.” Solace spread the meat around on her plate, before bringing the smallest forkful she could to her mouth, then chewed—very slowly. It was a struggle, but she managed to swallow it.
“She and Declan are twins, right?”
“Yes.” She took hold of her iced tea and took several large swallows.
“And they each have a magical unicorn horn in the middle of their foreheads?”
“Yes,” she said, before her mom’s words registered. “What did you say?” she asked, flicking her frowning gaze up at her chuckling mother.
“You’re not paying attention to me.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” she said, placing her fork down onto her plate. The only way she was picking it up again was going to be by force. “It’s just this case I’m working on. It’s troubling.” That much was another truth she could share with her mom, whose eyes widened with interest.
“Oooo… Is it?—”
“Mom, I can’t tell you anything more about it.”
“Spoilsport,” her mom said, frowning in disappointment before eyeing Solace’s plate and tsking. “Well, if you’re not going to tell me anything juicy, eat.”
At this point, Solace would rather have her mom interrogating her than take another mouthful. But she couldn’t answer her questions, meaning she had no other choice than to pick up her fork.
So, yeah, by force.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said, eyeing the congealed gravy and meat with dread, before gathering what might be considered a mouthful onto her fork.
Come on baby, let mama keep this down.
“It’s delicious.”
Solace stared out through the plexiglass-enclosed cubicle, beyond the administrative assistant’s desk, to Mercy’s slightly open office door, then glanced around her own space.
Maybe cubicle was the wrong word for it.
It was framed out, and she did have a door, but the walls surrounding her only went to just above the door’s height.
But for the purposes of her job here—not the one Mercy had hired her for, but the one for the team—it gave her the best vantage point of watching over her principal.
If Mercy ever hears herself being called that, she’s going to hit the roof.
Hopefully, it wasn’t going to come to that. Although…
She glanced down at the report from Cal on her laptop and frowned at the latest information on Spivey.
Russians.
That particular block had not been on her bingo card. She glanced once more at Mercy’s door. The ADA hadn’t mentioned any connection before, so it was going to come as a surprise to her too.
None of the intel to date or financial records Solace had examined had revealed any foreign ties, much less Russians.
Another surprise?
Duncan had been within walking distance to Cal and Declan for almost a week, while they’d both surveilled the Spiveys. They’d each ignored the other, until it had been decided whatever the threat was to Duncan had nothing to do with the politician.
When Cal had told her he’d spoken with Duncan again, a little twinge of jealousy hit her out of nowhere. He’d spoken to the man twice, while he’d been radio silent to everyone else. On the heels of that thought, came a bit of guilt.
Haven hadn’t been able to speak with her dad either time. If it was hard for Solace having no communication with him, it had to be even more so—not to mention hurtful—for his daughter.
If he?—
Mercy’s door opened and Solace stood, then headed to her own door and opened it.
“…this case, Nichola.” Whatever Mercy had been saying, her assistant nodded. Then she’d finished with, “Your coffee cup’s empty,” and laughed.
“I’m about to head to the break room,” Nichola said, grabbing up her cup. “I’ll be right back.”
Mercy’s smile lit up her face, making her even more beautiful. What she had to say was going to wipe it clean away.
“Mercy,” she called out, as the other woman turned toward her office. She immediately pivoted in place and gave Solace a quizzical look. “Can we talk?” Mercy’s eyes narrowed at her next words. “In private.”
“Of course,” she said, turning once more toward her office door. Solace followed, shutting the door behind her before taking a seat across from her new boss who looked every bit the imposing assistant district attorney she was. “What do you have?”
“Believe it or not, Russians.”