He watched her a moment then gave up and nodded, glancing out the window toward the Golden Gate Bridge over the San Francisco Bay off in the distance, obviously having far more patience than she would have.
Fifteen minutes went by, and when the taxi drove up to the cemetery, awareness washed over Rowan’s face. He slid a hand across her thigh and held, without saying a word, and somehow that felt like exactly what she needed him to do.
She waited for the taxi driver to drive up the hill before she said, “Here’s good.”
Before Alex could fetch her credit card from her purse, Rowan handed the driver his. “Thanks,” she said with a smile at Rowan, noting the flexing of his jaw muscles.
Maybe he anticipated the conversation ahead wasn’t going to be an easy one. She felt the same tightness roll over her when she exited the taxi, slamming the door behind her. A moment later, she heard Rowan following her, telling the guy to wait for them, while she headed toward the big shade tree in the middle of the cemetery along the gravel pathway. Three headstones away from that tree was her sister: Lena McCoy. Love is holding on to the memories only the heart can see.
Rowan settled next to her and his fingers brushed gently over hers. She glanced up into the warmth of his eyes, not regretting her decision to bring him there. He wanted to know her, and this was one thing she never shared with anyone. “You’re thinking this spot is most important to me because my sister is buried here, aren’t you?”
He nodded, grazing his fingers along hers again. “Am I wrong?”
She considered that and then shrugged. “Well, I guess it is part of the reason. I mean, I know Lena’s not here, and I’ve never really been a spiritual person, but I like having a place to see her. Helps me remember her. Sometimes, it even makes me feel a little less alone. But the reason this spot means something to me is because here is where my life changed.”
His head cocked, eyes becoming inquisitive. “Changed how?”
She stared at her sister’s headstone, seeing the dead flowers laying there since the last time she visited, but she turned to him, wanting to gauge his reaction. “This is where I met Mickey Finch.”
Rowan’s brow slowly arched. “The Mickey Finch?”
She laughed softly, not surprised he recognized the name. “Yeah, that Mickey Finch. Legendary hacker. I take it you know his story, then?”
Rowan examined her, reassessing, then nodded. “Back in the nineties, Mickey had nearly gone to jail for hacking into the CIA, but of course, the charges were dropped.”
“Yup,” Alex agreed. “Mickey never made the same kind of deal I did. He was just too good to ever get caught. No matter what they got on him, he always made the charges go away.”
She glanced over her shoulder as another car drove by, then refocused on Rowan as he chuckled and said, “Mickey’s picture is up in the cybercrime department to remind those working there what people can do.” The amusement faded from his eyes, and his head cocked in question. “Did you know him before he met you here?”
“No, we had never met.” She stared back at her sister’s tombstone, feeling a lot less lonely than she felt the last time she was there. Being with Rowan had a lot to do with that, and Alex felt the constraints around her heart tighten. “I’d heard about him, of course, but at that time, I had learned what I knew from others that I’d met along the way, and had picked up things on my own. But that’s why I got caught when I hacked into the CIA. I was stupid and reckless and made mistakes.” She drew in a deep breath, glancing up into
Rowan’s tender eyes. “When the CIA released me after my arrest, I came here, and that’s when Mickey showed up.”
“What did he want?”
“He offered to mentor me,” she explained as the slight breeze rustled the leaves on the big shade tree. “He told me that he had too much heat on him, and that he wanted to do right by the world while he was still here.”
It didn’t surprise her Rowan picked up on the most important thing she said. “Was he planning to leave?”
She nodded, swallowing the thick lump that suddenly made its way into her throat. “Mickey had cancer. He was dying, and he wanted to pass on his knowledge to someone else.”
“I take it that was you.”
Alex still couldn’t really say why he’d found her. “For some reason, he picked me. I’ll never know why. He never told me.”
“Talent.”
She shrugged. “I guess, but I think it had more to do with what I’d been through. What I’d do with the knowledge that he taught me.” She was never into hacking for herself. Never wanted to shut anything down or cause havoc. She wanted to save lives. “When I wasn’t working for Ryder, or the Feds and the CIA, I was with Mickey. I spent every minute learning from him.”
“Where is he now?”
“He died two years after I met him.” She inhaled again, feeling like her chest just couldn’t get enough air. Rowan took her hand then, lacing his fingers with hers as she went on. “For a long time when I came here, I only thought of what I lost. But then over time, I started to see what I gained. Yes, Lena died. Yes, I can’t ever change that. But here is where my life changed and I found my purpose. I realized that it didn’t matter where I came from, or the demons I had run from. Anyone has the power to choose to better their life and themselves and to do the right thing.” She hesitated, emotion filling her throat, but she pushed past it, feeling like she needed Rowan to know this about her. “I’ve never brought anyone here, or told them about Mickey.”
“Not even Ryder?”
She glanced up into the warmth of Rowan’s eyes. “Not even Ryder.”
The air suddenly felt red-hot around her, the ground unsteady, as she had no doubt that Rowan realized she’d told him something that the CIA would clamor to get their hands on. To know more about Mickey Finch, and who he worked with—that kind of intel was right up the CIA’s alley. “So, what do you think about all that?” she asked, shifting on her feet, feeling like she stood there naked in front of him.