40
“You’ve raised quite a talented little girl, Hayes,” a familiar voice says.
My heavy eyelids seem sealed shut, my body throbbing in far too many places to move. I wiggle my arms but meet resistance in the form of a round object sitting between them. The giant beams. We’re at the agency. How the hell—
“I’m not sure what your part in this operation is,” I hear my dad say, “But it doesn’t need to come to this. Let’s chat like old friends, figure out a compromise. I don’t see why this can’t be a win-win situation.”
Finally, I pry my eyes open, sit up slowly. Blink several times until the wide-open agency comes into view and then Sharp’s face, ten or fifteen feet away, his gun pointed in my direction.
“That was the plan. Wasn’t it?” Sharp says. “In fact, I was never supposed to be out in the open for this side. I needed that FBI job. But then you and your daughter had to betray us. Who are you working with? CIA? NSA? What did they offer you to give up names?”
My dad is handcuffed to the same wooden beam, right beside me. I turn to look at him, and both relief and worry cross his face. “Look, I don’t know anything about whatever names you’re referring to. As a rule, my family and I steer clear of any organized government groups.”
Sharp offers me a sarcastic smile, then turns to my dad. “Is that right? You and your family?”
My heart picks up, my body finally awake. Please don’t do this, Sharp.
“Ellie’s just a kid,” my dad says, glancing at me. “Let her go; she’ll vanish without a trace. Nothing to worry about. Then you and I can work out our issues.”
Sharp leaves us, drags a chair across the beautiful wood floors, creating a screech all the way. He sits in the chair, looks us over with great interest. “Eleanor, maybe you should tell your dad what you’ve been up to over the last year? It’s quite a story.”
I shake my head, refusing. This is why Miles wanted me out of this job. He didn’t want me taking the fall for his work. Miles…did he know about Sharp being in the league of bad agents? Was Sharp’s one of the coded names on the wall in his secret lair? He wouldn’t have kept that from me, would he?
My hands start to tremble. Dad must notice this, because he leans closer to me, his mouth near my ear, and whispers, “It’s okay. He would have shot us already if that were the plan.”
I turn my head, look at my father, whose expression is filled with the same guilt that fills my gut. “Dad, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry; this is all my—”
“So it’s true?” Sharp cocks his head to the side, surprise on his face. “Your dad isn’t involved?”
“No, he’s not,” I say in a rush. “Not even a little.”
Sharp laughs. “Wow…you’ve got balls, Ellie. I’ll give you that. Putting both of us on the FBI’s wanted list—one teenage girl. And neither of us saw it coming. Like I said, talent.”
Confusion fills Dad’s face, but he says nothing.
I glare at Sharp. “You got yourself on that list. I trusted you!”
He holds his arms out wide. “And I trusted you. Even taught you how to disarm. Didn’t know you were going behind my back, working against me.”
“I could say the same thing,” I retort.
Sharp waves his free hand toward Dad. “Go on…tell him. I can’t wait to see this.”
“Tell me what?” Dad says.
My face flames, and fear bubbles in my stomach. But I turn to Dad anyway. “It was me,” I whisper. “With Mom. I tipped off the FBI. Got her arrested.”
Dad shakes his head. “Did they—” His voice cracks. “Did they threaten you?”
“No one threatened me.” I squeeze my eyes shut, lean my forehead against the wooden beam. “I wanted to see Harper, and Agent Sheldon told me if I—”
Just speaking Sheldon’s name again, all I can see for a moment is her, lying face up, the red blood against her white blouse.
“We switched places,” Dad says, his voice breaking a little. “Your mom and I. It wasn’t supposed to be her.”
I look at him again, my heart shattering, seeing his pained expression, like someone punched him in the gut. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“And here? In New York?” he asks, his voice flat as he turns back into the skilled con. “What was your game plan?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. I’m such a coward.
“Trading your mom for me?” he guesses, the pain returning to his face for a brief moment.
“I didn’t know about the judge,” I plead. “To me, it seemed like you just forgot her, didn’t care, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her.”
“Every man for himself,” he says, staring over my shoulder, shaking his head. “Guess I had this coming to me, raising you like that.”
The room blurs around me. A couple of tears trickle down my cheeks.
Dad just shakes his head. “Clearly my feelings are not the priority at the moment.” He turns to Sharp. “Now that you’ve given us our Jerry Springer moment, mind telling me what your end game is?”
“I thought that was pretty obvious.” Sharp checks his cell and then stands. “Miss Teen Informant is going to tell me exactly who she’s been talking to, and then my friends are going to kill both of you. And lucky for us, the cleanup should be quite easy, considering you’re practically invisible to the world.”
I stare at Sharp, showing my fear, I’m sure. Beside me, I feel Dad move closer. He waits a beat and then says, “Friends? What friends?”
Just then, the stairwell doors open and two people enter the room—Faustino Zanetti and Miles Beckett.