was looking, he seemed to be looking, but the months stretched on without an offer.
She stopped being polite. Every night after they put the kids to bed she pushed him to find a job.
“You’re smart, you’ve got ConocoPhillips on your résumé—”
“All the coding work up here is classified. They want guys with more experience than me.”
“You know I can help. If you’ll let me.”
He shook his head like she’d wounded his pride. And she guessed she understood. But they were way past wounded pride.
“I’ll bet, a little push, you can get into the NSA.”
He’d walk away, and she’d follow, trying not to lose her temper.
“You like living this way, Bri?”
“I’m trying, Becks. Just let me be.”
Trying, sure. Sometimes he’d go downstairs. Sometimes he’d walk out the front door and she’d hear him drive off. Always quietly. He wasn’t a door-slammer. Didn’t raise his voice. If she started to yell he would silently nod at the children’s bedrooms, put a finger to his lips, Shh. He was right, too, she knew. Tony and Kira were old enough to understand these fights.
She feared she was turning into a shrew. A pushy middle-aged wife. But they needed the money, and he should find a job. Wasn’t like he was taking care of the kids. Between classes and after-school activities Kira and Tony were scheduled until six.
Maybe if she’d stopped asking, he’d come through.
Or maybe he’d just sit on his ass and watch the past-due notices come in.
* * *
She had no one to talk to about what was happening, either. She was too new in D.C. to be close to anyone. Though she’d made a few friends in Houston and Birmingham, she’d always known she was leaving, so she’d never tried too hard.
Her friends from high school and college were hardly part of her life these days. They viewed her choice to join the FBI as exotic and bizarre. Must be so interesting, they said. They weren’t being sarcastic. They would have listened to her stories, if she’d shared. She didn’t.
She told herself she kept her mouth shut because so much of what she did was confidential. But she had another reason. Somewhere along the way, she’d become a cop through and through. Like her uncle, she didn’t think anyone outside could truly understand.
But Ned and his buddies didn’t need to vent to civilians. They had each other. They had lived and worked in the same city their whole lives. She didn’t have close friends inside the bureau. Partly because of the moves. And she couldn’t show weakness to male agents. Most of all, she couldn’t hint at problems in her marriage. She would be inviting any guy she told to caricature her as a ball-buster—or hit on her. With the possible exception of Fred Smith. He was retired now and every time she asked him how he was doing, he said, Bored to death. But she just couldn’t see asking him for marriage advice.
She wanted desperately to talk to Ned. But Ned had suffered a stroke while she was in Houston. Too much whiskey, too many unsolved cases. He’d died quickly, a small mercy. She couldn’t have imagined seeing him in some hospital bed, unable to speak.
She wasn’t pitying herself. She’d put herself in this box. She should have been less stubborn, done more to keep her old friends close.
* * *
Turned out she hadn’t given Brian enough credit.
“Guess who’s got two thumbs and a job in Fort Meade?” Home of the National Security Agency.
“Working for the man. How’s that feel?”
“Like sixty-eight thousand a year, plus a 401(k), plus vacation. Full and productive member of society. Once they confirm I’m not a serial killer.”
“They don’t care if you’re a serial killer as long as you’re not a Chinese spy.”
“Noted.”
Of course, the background check would take six months to complete. Until then he’d be stuck on part-time unclassified work. But just knowing he had a job changed everything. For the first time since Houston, she felt safe financially. She even bought a couple of new outfits.
Sure enough, he completed the check, no red flags, and to the NSA he went. He didn’t talk much about the job, but he seemed to like it. Then he took an internal exam and wound up at Tailored Access Operations—the NSA’s most elite division, its hackers. A genuine accomplishment.
For the first time in she didn’t know how long she was proud of him. Though even then her pride had irritation mixed in; she wondered why he hadn’t