Blood Line (A Tom Rollins Thriller Book 1) by Paul Heatley (book recommendations based on other books .txt) 📗

at this. “Seedy little places,” he says. “Every time I step foot in one, I can’t help but wonder, what did the last occupant get up to? Or the one before? And the one before that, all the way back to the day it opened. What is that stain on the ceiling, this one on the floor, this on the bed sheets? Why is there a handprint on the wall, above the headboard? Of course, I can usually guess what caused these things. Sometimes I’ll lie awake at night, and I’ll focus on one of these questionable things, and I’ll wonder how many junkies have been in here, shooting up in this very bed, on this chair, in the bathroom, in the corner. I’ll wonder how many fugitives have hidden out here under assumed names. How many people have breathed this same air, walked through this same space?”

Carly doesn’t understand why he’s saying this. She sits, listens, nods along politely.

“But mostly, I’ll know that most of the people who come to these places have come in twos. They’ve come together. A secret place for their illicit gathering. And then the question turns to, just how much fucking has gone on in this room? It makes you see every stain, every handprint, in a new way. How well do they clean these sheets? I wonder. Something is always left behind.”

“It’s crossed my mind too, I have to admit – on occasion,” Carly says, just to say something, to prove that she hears what he’s saying, despite its seeming irrelevance. “I just try not to think about it too much.”

“It’s a dirty little business, isn’t it?” Eric says. “Sex.”

“I … I suppose it is, if it’s, y’know, extramarital, as you suspect.”

“You’ve never been married, have you, Carly?”

“No.”

“Ever come close?”

“Once. Back in college. I’m glad I got out before it was too late.” She laughs.

“That’s when it was for me, too,” Eric says, holding up his left hand, tapping the wedding band. “Just after, anyway. Arranged by my father and her father. It was far more mutually beneficial to them than it ever has been for us, really.”

“How, er, how is your wife?” Carly says, again to be polite.

Eric waves the mention of her off, dismisses her. “Fine,” he says. “My point is this – marriage complicates, but sex complicates further. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose I do.”

He looks at her, looks deep into her eyes. Carly feels herself begin to fidget. “I don’t believe you do,” Eric says. “Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

“I, uh … I thought I did.”

“What has Ben found?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly, grateful for a question she knows the answer to. “Not that I know of, and I’ve been keeping a close eye on him. I’m with him most nights.”

“But not every night.”

“Some nights I’m busy,” she says, defensive. “With the operation. Following your orders.”

Eric leans back, taps his fingers again. “This has been ongoing for a long time now,” he says. “And I’ll admit, the discovery of his undercover within the Right Arm may well have saved this entire mission, but I can’t help but feel things have stalled somewhat since then.”

“How do you mean?”

“We need further answers, Carly, and you’re not delivering them.”

“I told you, he doesn’t have anything.”

“Are you so sure? A man like Ben Fitzgerald, a man who will insert an undercover operative off his own back, damn the consequences, you really believe he doesn’t have anything going on?”

“He plays his cards close to his chest. He always has,” Carly says. “But he’ll slip up. He’ll leave a trail eventually. He did last time.”

“We don’t have until eventually. We need to know now – everything he’s thinking, everything he’s doing, we need to know right now. Do you think he suspects you?”

“No,” Carly says. She’s adamant about this.

Eric strokes his hairless chin. He’s so smooth she doubts he could grow a beard. “Sex complicates, Agent Hogan,” he says. “For people with no control, it complicates further. They begin to believe in a thing called love.”

“Are you asking me if I love Ben?”

“Perhaps he loves you.”

“Perhaps he does, but that’s not a concern. If anything, it helps us.”

“Only so long as it remains a one-way street.”

“I don’t love him,” she says firmly. “I don’t have any feelings for him. I’m a professional. This is my job. This is for our country. I’m doing what I have to do.”

Eric says nothing. She can’t tell if she’s convinced him or not.

“Is this all you called me out here for?” she says. “We couldn’t have discussed this nonsense in a phone call?”

“I wanted to see you,” Eric says, “face to face. To gauge for myself.”

“And am I gauged to your satisfaction?” Carly can’t hide her annoyance.

Eric grins. “Close enough.”

Carly bristles.

“But no, this isn’t the only reason I called you here.” Eric glances down at his nails, inspects them, doesn’t say another word until he’s done. “I have a task for you.”

“Oh?”

“I need you to go and check in with our friends,” he says. “They should almost be ready to go by now, but with the radio silence between us and them, it’s impossible to know where they’re at. I’ll admit, this lack of knowledge is making me irritable. The time is almost upon us. I need to know they’re prepared.”

“You haven’t been watching the news?”

“Of course I’ve been watching the news. I’ve seen what they’ve done in that regard, but that doesn’t mean anything. Go and see them. I’d do it myself, but I can’t go back to Dallas yet, can’t risk being seen.”

Carly nods. She understands.

“Then report back to me.”

Carly nods again, buoyed up by this responsibility.

“They can be an uncouth bunch,” Eric says, almost as a warning. “Don’t let them intimidate you.”

“I’ve faced down worse.”

“I’m not so sure you have.”

They sit in silence for a moment; then Eric abruptly says, “We’re done here.”

Carly blinks. “Oh.” She gets to her feet. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

“Put the chair back,” Eric says. He doesn’t stand.

Carly