by Violet Paige
“I think there’s one more cocktail party to celebrate the pre-wedding season. I should definitely attend. I need to support her.”
Agent Canson cleared his throat. “Is this couple relevant to any recent events?” He tried to steer us back on track. “Should I know something here?”
I was stuck thinking about the life AJ and I used to have. Life inside the townhouse together. Life living next to Becca and Travis. Our double dates. The soccer games. TV nights. All the things that came with coupledom. There was never a way to untangle the way AJ and I were reintroduced after college from the relationship Becca and Travis had. It was enmeshed.
I distanced myself from her after the breakup. At first it was little things like not showing up for cocktail hour. Or being too tired for a shopping trip. What she didn’t know was that I couldn’t handle seeing the bench on her patio where AJ and I drank wine. I didn’t want to hear about Travis’s soccer games. I couldn’t bear the PDA. I slipped out of view and out of touch as soon as I moved off the street. I had already left DataCorp. Disappearing was easy. I was too embarrassed to tell her what a wreck I was. Too ashamed to admit how hard I had fallen.
I walked back over to the table and picked up invitation. I held it in my hand. My relationship with Becca was one more thing I felt guilty about. I had been a horrible friend. AJ and I were committed to our second chance. This invitation symbolized one as well. I needed to take it.
“I think we should go.” My eyes lifted to AJ’s. “Don’t you think?”
He laughed. “Show up at the wedding together?”
I bit my lip. “Yes. Can you imagine what they would say? Becca would be thrilled.” I grinned. “And I’m going to buy them the most amazing wedding present. I’ll buy all the wedding presents. Whatever they want. I have a lot to make up for. Do you want to go with me?”
“Yes, babe. I’ll go to Becca and Travis’s wedding with you. Could be fun. I’m sure there will be a band. Plenty of booze.”
“Oh yes. You know Becca will have everything.”
I had almost forgotten about Agent Canson. I was sinking in the waves of what I had rediscovered with AJ. How quickly it all came back.
“Ms. Mil—Sydney, we need to get back to your debrief. If this couple is not a relevant part of Flight 552 or what happened today, I suggest we move on.”
I ripped open the envelope, searching for the RSVP card. I stood and opened kitchen drawers until I found a pen. I quickly scribbled my response on the linen paper. Two guests. One chicken and one steak entrée. I’d let my plus one be a surprise.
I sealed it inside the self-stamped envelope and handed it to AJ. “Will you make sure this gets mailed? I know I’m not allowed outside or I would take care of it.” I shot an accusatory stare at Canson.
“Of course, babe. I’ll handle it.”
“Please, Sydney,” Agent Canson grumbled. “Is there any other item in this distribution that looks unusual to you?”
I folded my hands across the table. “No. There is no other mail in here that looks out of place. It’s all junk. You can throw it away.” I pushed it back toward him.
“All right, since that is taken care of.” He shook his head as if he was clearing the last five minutes from his memory. “I want to clarify a few other items.”
I took a sip of coffee. The creamer was laced with something sweet. I puckered my lips.
“What are those?”
He lifted a photo from his briefcase and placed it in the center of the table. I couldn’t see what it was a photo of under his hand.
“There is a classified situation we need to discuss. My understanding is that Agent Hart has been debriefed. Because of the high level of intelligence being discussed, you will have access to certain briefings. This is one of those briefings.”
I didn’t know if he was about to identify Jack. Maybe he knew Beechum’s identity. Any of those would be a win. Taking down the dark web buyers and sellers was now one of my priorities. I realized how closely it all tied together with the stalker. I couldn’t easily separate one part of my life from another. Just like I couldn’t separate on the why I loved AJ then and the way I loved him now. They were interconnected.
That’s why when Agent Canson spoke his next words, it was if something had thrown a bucket of ice in my face. Hard, unrelenting cubes. Shards of frozen glass. His words had the same effect.
“Sydney, we need to talk about this woman. We need to talk about Farrah Hart.” His fingers lifted and I saw the face staring back at me from the photograph.
“What the fuck?” AJ barked. “No, Canson. Not now.” He slammed his fist on the table, raking the picture out of sight. “You son of a bitch.” He jumped up, grabbing Canson by the collar. He yanked him from the table.
I tried to get my bearings. I reached for the picture that had drifted to the floor. I held it in my hands. I saw the blond woman. She looked familiar, but too much was happening around me.
Canson was swinging his fists, trying to break free.
“AJ! Stop!”
The scuffle ceased for a second. My hands trembled.
“Wh-who was that?” I knew what I heard, but I also didn’t believe it. I didn’t trust myself. My instincts had been all over the place lately.
“No one,” AJ snapped. “No one,” he emphasized. “Give me the picture, Syd.” His hand was outstretched.
I looked between him and Canson. One of them was lying.
“AJ, who is this?”
Canson’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. “Agent Hart, she doesn’t know about your wife?”
“Shut the fuck up, Canson.” AJ pushed the wiry agent into the kitchen wall.
“Wife? Did you say wife?” I looked at AJ. “What is he talking about? You’re married? You have a wife? This woman is your wife?”
AJ held up his hands as if I was a scared baby deer. As if he could coax me into a tranquil state. “No. Stop. Stop right there. I do not. This was the conversation I wanted to have with you tonight. But not like this. Syd, you weren’t supposed to find out this way.”
I pushed back from the table, almost knocking my chair to the floor. There was nowhere to go. I wanted to run on the sidewalk and escape into the French Quarter. I’d buy a cheap Mardi Gras mask and get lost in the crowd. I’d pull money from the ATM and take a cab out of the city. I’d hitchhike if I had to. I wanted to be anywhere but here. But I was locked in this damn safe house.
Agent Canson was rambling. I couldn’t listen to him. I couldn’t block the sound of his voice. I ran into the bedroom. AJ was on my heels before I could lock the door.
The adrenaline pumped through my veins. The anger shot through my muscles.
He grabbed my shoulders. “Listen to me.”
I blinked as the tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. “You’re married,” I whispered. “This entire time you kept it from me. You kept your marriage from me.”
“No, Syd. I’m not married. I was.” He sighed. “Damn it, I’ve tried to talk to you about this. I’ve wanted to tell you the story. Look at me.”
My eyes lifted to his as the first heavy tear drop rolled down my cheek.
“Where is she?” I gritted my teeth. “Where is your wife?”
“This is what I’ve been trying to tell you, Syd. Farrah’s dead.”
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