“See,nowI may be suffering from Prince Charming Syndrome.”
Sawyer laughs and bends down to steal one last kiss before slinking out of my room.
Once they’re gone, I take a walk around the house, nodding in acknowledgment of Tweedle-beef and Tweedle-bulk, who are sitting in the living room with live footage of the perimeter on the TV screen.
After fixing myself a cup of tea and exploring the bookshelves, I finally muster up the courage to make the call, the one that will tell me once and for all if my hunch is correct.
“This is Agent Lawrence,” my uncle answers his office phone with formality.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Maddie?” His voice is edged with panic. I hardly ever call his landline, but it’s the only way to ensure it’s a secure line. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. Look, I need to ask you something.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“Why’d you decide to put an outsourced protection detail on me in the middle of an ongoing field operation?” I shoot my question fast, scared of the answer more than I admitted to myself.
“You’re dealing with a very dangerous man. When I found out you were still on the case and how little protection you had, I did what I had to do to keep you safe.” His response is sincere, and the weight of thinking he might be somehow involved lifts off my chest for a total of three seconds until the full meaning of his words sinks in.
“What do you mean—when you found out I was still on the case?” I ask, my heart thudding at an increasing pace. I thought he knew. That’s what Sidney York, the task force leader, led me to believe when he asked me to keep digging under the radar.
“The Harlow task force is a small, dedicated unit. They don’t share information outside of their team because there are field operatives in precarious situations. Any small leak could compromise them,” Lee explains. “Even other agencies working Harlow are on a need-to-know basis. I only found out you were on it because I wanted to contract you for a different case. It took me a week and cashing in on a personal favor from Gilbert Hankin at the Director of National Intelligence’s office to find out who at the agency contracted you.”
Lee’s explanation makes sense, which has me wondering if I may have misunderstood Sid. Nothing in my investigation pointed to the task force. There’s no indication that Harlow has federal involvement. Except, I know what Sid told me, and just this morning, I concluded Harlow has government ties. And now I have a tangible connection to dig into.
I’m clawing at my sleeves like crazy, wishing Sawyer were here, thinking this is a big enough discovery to call him and tell him to come back.
“Maddie, tell me what’s going on.”
“I may need to disappear for a while.” I wish I could tell him why, but I know it’ll put him and anyone close to him at risk. “Promise you’ll let me take care of this, however long it takes.”
“You can’t take a man like Harlow down alone.”
“I’m not alone,” I assure him. “But I don’t want you in this, Uncle Lee, promise me.”
“Maddie—”
“No, you’ve got Zoe and your grandbaby on the way. You’ve got Luke and Kimber to think of. Please,” I plead with him. “Don’t get involved in this, for them.”
“Okay.” He sighs. “I’ll keep my nose clean, but I’m not lying to your dad when you fall off the grid.”
“Just…” I groan because I don’t want him to lie, but I also need him tonottell the truth. “I need to know Harlow won’t go after any of you, so the less everyone knows, the better, okay?”
“Copy that, Princess.” I smile at the age-old nickname he hasn’t used since I was seven.
“I love you, Uncle Lee.”
“Love you, too,” he replies in a warm voice. “Just make sure I’m not the last one to hear it before you ghost.”
“I’ll try,” I promise and hang up.
Jonah was right. I should never have let things get this far and drag on for so long. Now, I’m holding onto a hot potato in the form of a compromised dedicated FBI task unit, either harboring a mole or working for the same man they’re supposed to be hunting. AndI’mthe one with a target on her back.
It’s time to disappear. Sawyer will want to come with me, and I intend on letting him—I’m not stupid. I just need to know he’s fully aware of what it means and what he’s giving up.
I keep running scenarios in my head as I pack clothes into the duffle Sawyer brought from Boone’s motel. He still hasn’t unpacked, so that works in our favor, but we’re going to have to move tonight and lay low until we can get a ghosting pack.