Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Michelle spent about five hours wandering through cyberspace before making her way back to Fletch’s apartment.
She wasn’t sure when he’d be back, but that didn’t stop her from starting dinner.
She was currently in the kitchen chopping vegetables from the groceries Fletch had gotten a few days ago.
After surviving on truck-stop and fast food for a week, she was enjoying cooking real meals.
When she arrived back to the apartment, she placed two chicken breasts in a teriyaki marinade.
Those were now in the oven. As it turned out, Fletch had never in all his years in the complex used his oven.
Brown rice and chives were simmering on the stovetop, and the salad she was creating was almost complete.
Michelle reached for the glass of merlot she’d poured earlier and took a sip. Her thoughts went to today’s earlier episode of Crime Daily Podcast. Out of habit, she fidgeted with the locket hanging from around her neck.
Could her name really be cleared by two podcasters?
She popped the clasp open. Her parents’ picture fluttered to the ground. There was another picture beneath it. Michelle strained, looking down at the faded child. A smile curled her lips. The little girl would be her. Her mother had it hidden beneath the other picture.
Michelle bent down, recovering her parents’ photo as the front door opened and Fletch came home.
As he stopped inside the entry and inhaled, his shoulders straightened. With an exhausted grin, he walked to Michelle, took the glass from her hand, and placed it on the counter. Before she could say a word, his lips were on hers.
The concerns she had about Fletch and Olivia evaporated as his tongue tangoed with hers. She lifted her arms over his wide shoulders and pressed her breasts against his solid chest.
When he pulled away, his gaze was fixated on hers.
“I like how you say hi,” she said with a grin.
Fletch stared, still silent.
She tried to read his thoughts, but there were too many to decipher.
Finally, his baritone timbre broke the spell his eyes had cast. “I want to tell you something.”
“After that greeting, you can tell me anything.”
“I’ve never in my recollection, ever, in my thirty-six years, come home to a home.”
Michelle tilted her head.
“I’ve come home to a place I can rest, but damn” —he lifted his chin and inhaled— “when I was a kid getting moved from place to place, I imagined what it would be like to be like one of the kids on television, the ones with a family that sat around a table to eat.” Fletch pressed his lips together.
“I think I gave up on that dream when I was around ten.” He cupped her cheek.
“I forgot about it. And then, walking in here, the delicious aroma, the clean apartment, that dream came back to me.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry you never had that growing up.”
“Don’t be. It makes me appreciate you all the more.”
Michelle pushed up on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss over his lips. “I appreciate that I’m here. I wouldn’t be without you.”
Fletch reached for her wine glass and took a hearty sip before handing it back to Michelle. “I want to talk to you about what I learned today.”
“Is it about the grand jury?”
“It’s all connected.” He went to the cabinet and found a second wine glass. As he topped off Michelle’s glass and poured his own, he asked, “How did it go with Olivia?”
“She said today went well. I guess I’m supposed to meet with Peterson tomorrow and discuss the results.”
“He’s a blowhard, but he’s a good man. Don’t be concerned.”
“I wasn’t.” She narrowed her gaze. “But now I am.”
Since the dining table was now Michelle’s office of sorts, she had two place settings on the breakfast bar. She set her wine glass at one of them. “Once the salad is done, we can eat.”
“You don’t have to cook for me. I can get us food.”
She laughed. “You did that for a week. I’ve had my fill of burgers and breakfast sandwiches.” Michelle opened the oven door, and the scent of teriyaki came out with a puff of hot air.
Soon they were seated at the breakfast bar. “I should move my computer someplace else,” Michelle said.
“Where and why?” he asked between bites. “Damn, this is good. I usually buy frozen shit that tastes about as good as it sounds.”
Her cheeks lifted at the compliment. “Thank you.”
“You can take a compliment about your cooking but not your appearance.”
She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a comment, but she responded, “I enjoy cooking. It’s even more fun to cook for two instead of one.” She offered him a shy smile. “I’m getting more accustomed to the other compliments.”
“Seriously, I can barely boil an egg. Who taught you to cook like this?”
“My mom.” She turned to Fletch with a grin. “My mom who was also a secret badass agency spy, apparently. If she did both, maybe I can too.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I think you were the one who said my choices were limited.”
“If they weren’t…?”
Michelle put down her fork and reached for the stem of the wine glass.
“I can’t think about it too much. Dad used to quote Aristotle—‘Choice, not chance, determines your destiny.’” She shrugged.
“I think it’s both. I made the choice to visit him.
You made the choice to stick around and help me.
You chose to come back for me after the deputy tried to kidnap me.
If those choices led me here, who am I to say it’s not my destiny? ”
“Ralph Perkins is dead.”
Michelle reached for the globe of the glass to steady it from its sudden wobble and set it back on the countertop. “How? What happened?”
“No foul play is suspected. They’ll know more after the autopsy.” Fletch took another bite and swallowed. “I don’t buy it. I think he fucked up. Denny’s case and your disappearance shed too much light on Iron Falls and whatever operation they have going there. I’d wager they got rid of him.”
“Who is they?” She’d asked him that question before.
Fletch inhaled. “That’s what we need to find out.”
“You don’t think Sheriff Perkins was acting on his own when he killed Dad.”
“I don’t. I think Perkins was a soldier carrying out orders. He fucked up with you there. Think about it. If you hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have been there. Leo wouldn’t have known to clean out Denny’s shed.”
“I would have gotten a call,” Michelle said, “from Sheriff Perkins, and I would have believed that it was an accidental fire.” She shook her head. “He couldn’t have convinced me that Dad took his own life, but an accident…I would’ve believed that.”
“You also wouldn’t be a suspect.”
Michelle sighed. “How will the agency do it?”
“Do what?”
“Kill me. Make the world think I’m dead. I don’t want to spend forever in this complex. I need to die and be given a new identity, like you, right?”
“They have their ways.”
Michelle stood. “There’s more chicken and rice. Would you like more?”
A smile spread across Fletch’s face. “I’ll lick the dish clean, and then do the same to you.”
Warmth filled her cheeks as her core did its familiar twist. “We’ll start with the chicken.
” Walking around the counter to the stove, she jutted her chin toward the dining table.
“I started writing today when I got back from Olivia’s lab.
” She dished more chicken and rice onto Fletch’s dish and handed it across the counter.
“In Olivia’s lab, it felt good to be typing and researching.
The access the agency has to infiltrate other sites is phenomenal. I even checked on my airplane ticket.”
Fletch stopped eating and stared at her. “Why?”
“I wanted to see if the agency had the ability to make it look like someone was where they weren’t. And I found my name.” She shook her head and took her seat. “It’s truly astounding. I thought this stuff was fiction.”
“What did you start writing?”
“I know it will never be published, but I started writing what we’ve gone through. I’ll change it some. No mention of the agency. I know that.”
Fletch leaned back and stretched. “After your conversation with Peterson, I’d like you to help.”
“Help with what?”
“Leo backed up your dad’s data on a hard drive. I spent most of today weeding through it. I believe Denny was on to something. That something got him killed.”
“The Timothy Wells case?” she asked.
“He’s one of hundreds if not thousands of children. I remembered something. Denny mentioned Crossroads the night before he died.”
“That network that was exposed due to Frank Loews’s trial?”
Fletch nodded. “Denny believed there is a new one. I hope he had the proof and didn’t realize it. Will you help?”
“If you answer a silly question for me.”
He lifted his brow. “Oh, we’re making conditions now.”
“I was just curious. You and Olivia seem to know one another.”
“You’ll know everyone here soon. Many agents come and go, like I do. The ones who stay here everyone knows. Olivia stays here.”
She lifted her glass to her lips, suddenly feeling foolish for her concern. “Oh.”
Fletch studied her face. “Are you asking if I’ve fucked her?”
“No.” She batted her eyelashes. “I mean, like you said, there aren’t a lot of people here, and she’s pretty and petite.”
“She’s built like a teenage boy.” He turned his stool and twisted Michelle’s until her knees were between his.
After taking her wine glass and setting it on the counter, Fletch leaned closer.
“I’ve never fucked Olivia. I prefer women who are shaped like women.
” He leaned closer until their noses touched.
“I like breasts, curves, and a sexy ass.” His lips curled.
“There is one asset that makes me do a double take every time.”
Michelle wasn’t sure if she wanted to know. “What is that?”
Fletch reached for a stray curl of Michelle’s hair. “Gingers make me hard.”
Her smile grew. “I don’t know how in all this trauma I ended up here with you, but I’m glad I did.”
“I’m not letting you go, Chell. We’re going to be a team like Denny and Tracy.”