Chapter 32
“You’re still with us,” Fox notes.
“I’d rather be somewhere else.”
“That’s understood, sir. But on behalf of the Department of Justice, we appreciate your time today. We also appreciate this is a unique circumstance as this is not for hiring purposes, witness security, nor for you to join one of our Sensitive Investigative Units.”
I wiggle my hands. “Then are we done? I have somewhere to be.”
Deere and Pamola make their way over and begin to loosen the wires from the extremities to which they are attached.
As they do, the camera recording our session shuts down, and the door unlocks.
A friendly face steps inside even as I rub my wrists.
My second polygraph in as many days, I think, wryly.
Fox takes note of the look on my face, and her own turns wary. “What’s that look for?”
“Do I get a frequent flyer card to punch?” Turning to Cal, who is standing just inside the door, I wonder, “Think I can get out of my bi-annual poly for enduring this torture early?”
He snorts. “No. Besides your clearance is held through a different agency.”
“Killjoy.” He rolls his eyes at me before I ask the trio I’ve been working with all day, “I’d ask if it would be accepted in court, except that doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Fox’s smile turns malevolent. “No, sir, it doesn’t. Whether or not your polygraph would hold up as testimony doesn’t matter since they’re all dead. The president just wanted to have it on record if there was any blowback.”
“Understood.” I push myself out of the chair and ask Cal, “Any changes?”
“Libby and Iris brought food a while ago. They said you should bring flowers.”
I can’t prevent the smile from spreading across my face. “Mind if we stop at the house?”
“Nope. Besides, tracksuits are not your best look.”
Throwing him the finger, I’m about to storm past a gawking Fox, Pamola, and Deere.
Instead, I pause and offer, “Let me know if you three are looking for a job. As of yesterday, I lost a team of polygraph examiners.” Permanently.
As in, they’re in a federal prison somewhere I can’t get to them—more’s the pity. “You three did a hell of a job today.”
Cal breaks in, “Despite who you were interviewing.”
I roll my eyes. “How about you shut up and take me to my wife?”
He snaps off a salute. “Sir. Yes, sir.” Then he mutters, “Only because my wife is with her.”
Still, the minute we clear the door, Cal’s hand comes down on the back of my neck and squeezes hard. We’ll always be at each other’s throats, but when it counts, when the waters are troubled, there are a few people Bethany and I know we can count on without question.
Who knew love would save all of us after the way we were all brought together, which was the travesty of it being torn apart?