“You killed Fred,” she said.
JENNA
For the first time since she’d laid eyes on him, his cool demeanor fractured. Jenna hid her surprise—it was not the reaction she’d been expecting.
“What did you say?” he asked, his voice thick as his black eyes swirled.
“You heard me,” she said. She was not afraid, not since he’d captured her in the square. Lisa had always told her there was opportunity in every situation. She would say just enough now to stay alive without revealing anything they could use against Lisa. Jenna needed to bide her time until she worked out how to get out of this situation. She needed to be useful enough for them to want her alive.
James studied her, and she felt like an insect under a microscope.
“I didnotkill Fred,” he said, seeming to have to force the words from his throat. Like the idea was so inconceivable to him.
She raised an eyebrow. “You had everything to gain from his death. You became one of the most powerful men in America the day he died, second only to the president.”
He stared at her, his jaw set. “If you knew anything about me, you would know how false that theory is. Power is the least of my concerns. I had no ambition to ever return to the CIA. I would never have gone back if not for Fred, and I had no idea he’d named me as his successor. That was the biggest surprise of my life—excluding the web drawn on the back of his neck.”
Jenna nodded. “That was a nice touch,” she said. “You threw everyone off with that move. You then had full clearance and whatever resources you needed to hunt... Lisa,” she said, giving James Widow’s real name because Lisa wasn’t the only one with ambitious plans and Jenna was tired of having her plans ignored. She was in this very situation because of Lisa’s failed plan—a plan Jenna had never liked.
She continued. “You forced her into hiding, into a miserable existence. You dedicated years of your life to finding her, to ensure she could never speak a word of your treachery.” Jenna scoffed.
James eyes darted to his brother’s, then back to hers. “Lisa told you all of this?”
“Yes,” Jenna said.
“Then she has been playing you for a fool,” James said, his eyes locked on hers. “She’s been brainwashing you, priming you for whatever she is planning next.”
“There’s one problem with that,” she said, meeting his cold stare. “I was with her the week Fred died. We were in Italy. There was absolutely no way she killed him.”
“Where in Italy?” James asked.
“Rome,” she said.
James frowned. “What were you doing in Rome?”
“Training camp,” Jenna replied. “You know... knife throwing, poisons classes, anatomy lessons... Lisa has a house in Rome. She’d been living there for a few years. She worked as a tour guide, which she said she loved because she got to spend all day with people, which is quite ironic when you think about it. All day she played tour guide, and all night she trained to kill people.”
James looked at her a long minute then turned and left the kitchen without another word.
She looked to the man seated beside her, who looked back at her calmly. She knew from the photographs Lisa had shown her that he was Deacon Thomas.
“Why did she recruit you to work with her?” he asked.
“I asked her to. I was studying linguists and struggling to make ends meet. I met her one night, at a bar. I saw her sitting alone and she had a confidence about her that I’d never seen before. And she looked rich. Her nails were immaculate, her hair perfect, and she wore a Chanel dress. She seemed wealthy and put together and nothing like the person I was at that time. I pulled out the seat next to her and asked her what she did for a living. She turned to me, smiled, and said, ‘I kill people for a living.’ I laughed, because what else do you say to that? I thought she was joking, obviously.”
The corner of his lips turned up, surprising her. “Then what happened?”
“I bought her a drink, which was ridiculous seeing as I didn’t even know how I was going to pay my rent that month. When I gave them my card, it was declined. I tried to make up an excuse, but she dismissed it with a wave and handed the bartender her card. She told me she needed a personal assistant and offered me the job. She said she would pay me well. I was flat broke without a penny to my name. I took the offer. That’s how our relationship started.”
His eyebrows wove together. “So you’re not related?”
“No,” she said, then added, “why would you think that? My parents live in Elkhorn.”
He nodded, and she sensed he already knew that.
“Did you ever meet Fred?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. Somehow, he found out about me. He went to my parent’s house one day, but I was in Rome with Lisa. I never got the chance to know him.”