Red Widow by Alma Katsu (good books to read for beginners txt) 📗

“Hank’s talked to her,” Raymond continues. “Turns out it’s a little gambling problem. The thing is, she didn’t do the usual online thing because she was afraid of being discovered by us. So, she was doing it the old-fashioned way: with the locals. She’d been losing money steadily and then—voilà, she suddenly scores a jackpot.”

“And you think it’s a gift from the FSB?”

“It’s not impossible, is it? They find out she’s an intelligence officer, try to reel her in. Now she’s in a blackmailable position, accepting bribes from an adversary. ‘If you don’t want CIA to find out about it, do this one small favor for us,’” he says in a bad Russian accent.

“A bit tenuous, isn’t it? What’s her relationship to the three cases?”

Resentment in the set of Raymond’s shoulders: she’s caught him. “That’s yet to be determined. We don’t have the whole story from Station yet. Franklin knew about Nesterov. She’d backed up the case officer on more than one occasion. But I’m not sure yet about Popov and Kulakov.”

The whole thing makes Lyndsey nervous. If this gets out, everyone will think they found the mole. They’ll be relieved to have a suspect, any suspect. Success will be assumed, and CI will slow the rest of the investigation. But remembering Masha’s texts—the FSB knew about him, he didn’t trust Gerald—this sounds to Lyndsey like a distraction from the real culprit.

“I’m not sure . . .”

He rises from the chair, extracting himself from the awkward corner. “It’s not something you need to be worried about, is it? I’m dealing with Moscow Station. That’s the division of effort.”

She’s tempted to snap back at him but that won’t help the situation. “I don’t want anyone thinking we have the guilty party until we’re sure.”

Murphy sniffs like he’s been insulted. “You’re not calling the shots here, if you remember . . . CI has the lead. You’re only here because Eric Newman insisted. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

He wants to make sure she knows her place. And to think she had almost told Murphy about Cassidy, hoped he could dig up something without Eric getting wind of it. Now she’s glad she didn’t. Murphy would only use it to get her into trouble if he saw a chance.

He rolls his eyes. “And it’s not like our investigation against you has been dropped, you know. It’s been put on hold. They’ll open it up again as soon as this is over. And then we’ll see.”

The look on his face is petty and exulting, the face of the mob outside the jail, waiting for the hanging. He glares at her, as though she personally did something to hurt him. What she did was a minor bending of the rules, she reminds herself. It should be a minor infraction. It’s only a big deal because someone has it in for her.

She turns her attention to the computer monitor. “Are you done? Because I need to get back to work.” She waits until he’s left to react. She pushes the keyboard away, pressing her hands into the desktop to stop them from trembling. She feels like she’s been hit by a truck. This is getting a taste of what Franklin must’ve felt: that once you make a mistake at the Agency, there are some people who will never let it go. Who will make sure it haunts you for the rest of your career, if not your life.

Lyndsey doesn’t return to the present until she realizes Theresa is standing in the same spot where Murphy was just a few seconds ago. Staring at her.

Her smile is tentative. “Something happen?” She nods in the direction of the front door, where Murphy undoubtedly has just left. “Want to get some coffee?”

The cafeteria is near-empty, for which Lyndsey is grateful. People stroll by in twos and threes on their way to the steam tables and cashiers, but she and Theresa have the seating area to themselves. Two steaming paper cups stand on the table between them.

She turns the cup gingerly in her hands. It’s blisteringly hot but she barely feels it.

Theresa winces as she watches. “Do you want to talk about it? I assume it had something to do with the guy I saw leaving your office?”

Theresa is right: Lyndsey feels the need to talk about Davis pushing against her chest, but who can she talk to? It’s not the kind of thing she can talk about with anyone outside the Agency, and it’s not the sort of thing to confess to someone inside. The idea of calling Davis suddenly flits through her head but that would be the last wise thing to do, especially with the investigation still open. During the exit interview in Lebanon, she told Security it was over with him. It had hurt like hell to say that but now it hurt even more to make it stick.

If she tells her secret to Theresa, it will change everything between them. Or . . . maybe not. Maybe Theresa’s not like that. She’s been through a lot, after all. Suffered more than her share.

Theresa is throwing her a lifeline. Lyndsey decides to take it.

“I’m under investigation.”

Silence. Theresa leans back in the plastic chair. “Wow. No offense, but you seem like the last person who’d break the rules.”

“Am I that much of a goody-two-shoes?”

“It can’t be too bad if they’re letting you keep your badge.”

A half smirk. “It’s only because of Eric. For the investigation.”

Theresa’s eyebrows shoot up. She seems to start to say something, then hesitates. “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to . . .”

Say it fast, like pulling off a bandage. “I dated a foreign intelligence officer while in Beirut.” Theresa is working hard to suppress whatever thoughts she’s having. Lyndsey can’t tell if she’s being judged at this moment.

“He’s a Brit,” she adds, knowing that will make a difference.

“Did you get any good intel from him? If you got any reportable information out of it, all would’ve been forgiven,” Theresa cracks. She’s trying