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The Double

Page 17

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I drew in my breath but it went shaky and gulpy. I realized my eyes were filling with tears.

“Oh dear,” said Christina innocently. “Did I hit a nerve?”

I very nearly ran. But if I folded now, I’d never have the strength to come back in here. I took two long, shuddering breaths. “Look,” I said desperately. “I know you want to protect him. I get that you’re loyal to the man you love, but you—”

“Love?!” Christina sounded genuinely bewildered for a second. Our eyes locked. Then she burst out laughing, her shrill peals ringing around the room. “That’s what you think? You think it’s all fluffy toys and walks in the rain?! You think I love him? You think he loves me?”

I tried to get her on my side. “You’re beautiful. Why wouldn’t he love you?”

She looked at me as if I was an idiot child. “Because a man like Konstantin isn’t capable of love.”

“Then why are you together?”

“Why do you think? It used to be a different woman every time, but then some girl played him, distracted him while her hitman boyfriend sneaked in. Having me is easier and safer.”

“And you….”

“I get to live like a queen, Hailey. I get a bottomless credit card and shopping trips to Milan.” She smirked at me. “You think I’m a cold-hearted, evil bitch?”

I hesitated, then nodded.

“That’s what makes me perfect for him.”

* * *

I walked out of the interrogation room still stinging from how she’d humiliated me and still trying to work out how the hell I was going to pull this off. She was sexy, glamorous, ruthless... I was nothing like her. She was the perfect match for Konstantin.

And the revelation that they weren’t in love with each other! So it was just convenience, just about sex and money? I couldn’t even imagine that sort of relationship and I was going to have to live it.

I headed up to the tenth floor, but slowed when I reached the hallway outside Carrie’s office. I could hear a familiar, deep voice yelling. No, bellowing. Oh God. I could make out a quieter, more measured voice between the rants: Carrie. I could only make out the odd word but I heard my own name several times. There was a thump that sounded like a big, male fist coming down on a desk. That triggered a threat from Carrie about gross insubordination and then, as her voice rose, exception this one time because you’re clearly acting on personal feelings.”

I flushed.

Calahan stormed out of Carrie’s office. As he passed me in the hallway, he spat one word from the corner of his mouth. “Garden.”

I ran after him. I should have talked to him first, as soon as I volunteered. But I hadn’t been able to face telling him. Some FBI agent I was.

The garden is where Calahan and I go when one of us has had a bad day. It’s a big, oddly-shaped section of neatly-mown grass with a monument in the center. There’s no shade or trees or benches, it’s designed to be ornamental rather than a place to hang out. But in summer, if you don’t mind getting some funny looks, you can sit on the ground, close your eyes and feel the grass against your fingers and it’s a little bit like being back in Wisconsin.

Now, though, it was fall and the sky was an ugly gray. I pulled my jacket tight around me: it was too cold to be outside. But the garden had another advantage: it was private.

Calahan had managed to bottle up his rage all the way there. Now he finally unleashed. “You’re out of your fucking mind!” he snapped.

“I know what I’m doing,” I told him. I was pretty sure that was a lie.

“This is Konstantin. He scares the other crime bosses. He scares me.” He grabbed my wrist and hauled me with him as he stalked across the grass to the monument. “Look. Look!”

I looked. The monument is a big slab of black marble with a list of names etched into it in gold. The names of agents who’ve fallen in the line of duty. “You want to be one of them?” he demanded.

I relived the sickening fear when Konstantin had grabbed me and pinned me against the wall: the brute strength of him, the coldness in his eyes. I felt myself crumpling. Of course this was a mistake. I needed to tell Carrie I was backing out.

But if I did that, we’d lose this fight. We’d lose our city. And all those people who died in the coming gang war... that would be on me.

Someone had to do something. I was the only one who could.

I turned to Calahan. “If it was a guy they wanted to impersonate, and you were a match, would you do it?”

He sighed in exasperation and glared at me. But one thing Calahan always is, is honest. “Yeah,” he said at last. “But I’m me. You’re….”



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