The Whole Truth (A. Shaw 1)
He put the cigar away. “My world doesn’t strictly involve good and bad, right and wrong. Shaw would be in prison right now, but for one thing.”
“What’s that?” she said fiercely.
“Your fiancé possesses some pretty incredible skills. No one I’ve
ever worked with in the field can touch him. He can walk into a room full of terrorists loaded for bear, con the turbans off them, take ’em down, and walk out alive. Pretty much one-of-a-kind stuff. And for that we make exceptions.” He tapped the dent in his head. “Even if the exception almost killed me.”
“So he works for you. He told me he worked for a law enforcement agency.”
“He did, huh? And that he runs around the world never knowing if he’s going to come out alive?” He studied her closely.
Anna nervously twisted her fingers. “He said… he said he worked behind a desk now.”
“A desk?” Frank grinned. “And he said he was retiring too.” He leaned so close she could smell his tobacco breath. “Let me tell you something. People like Shaw don’t retire. He goes until he either dies or we don’t need him anymore. He tries to leave before that, his ass goes right to the scummiest prison I can find.” He leaned back.
“Why did you come here to tell me this?
“Because I thought you needed to know the whole truth.”
“The man you have described to me is not the man I know. He saved my life in Germany. He is the most kind, most wonderful man I have ever met.”
“He kills people, Ms. Fischer. They’re bad people, for sure, but he still kills them. I do too. Or did. See, I actually have the desk job. Your fiancé is a brave man, I’ll give him that. Nerves like I’ve never seen before. But I’ve also seen him gut a man, here to here.” He drew his finger from his navel to his neck. “Guy deserved it, but Shaw doesn’t bake cookies. When the man’s on the hunt he’s an alpha with a capital freaking A! You know what I mean?”
He stopped and studied her again, a smile edging across his face. “You know, I have to tell you, I’m impressed. I figured you’d have started crying five minutes ago.”
“Have you ever loved anyone, Mr. Wells?” Anna said suddenly.
Frank’s eyes narrowed and his jocular manner faded. “What?”
“You seem to think all of this is funny somehow. Do you so enjoy the pain of others? Is that what your agency looks for in its employees? No soul? No compassion?”
“Look, I came here to tell you the truth.”
Anna went to the door and opened it.
Frank stood stock-still for a moment and then shrugged. “Okay, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
As he passed her Anna said, “Why do you hate him so much?”
“He shot me in the head, lady!”
“I don’t think that’s the real reason.”
“What are you doing, playing shrink?”
“You’ve never had anyone in your life, have you? That you really cared about? Or that cared about you.”
“This isn’t about me!”
“I guess you’re the only one who can really answer that truthfully. Good night, Mr. Wells.”
As she closed the door behind him, Anna clutched at her face, stifling a sob.
Her phone rang. She almost didn’t answer it.
The voice said, “Anna Fischer, please.”
“Speaking,” Anna said a little hesitantly. “Who is this?”