I say. I don’t like where I think this is going.
Barclay nods. “Two days later, Eric was dead and a report he supposedly signed with ‘proof’ against Ben was on the server. The order to find Ben and bring him in was issued.”
“That means . . .” My heart hammers in my chest, and I can’t say what I think out loud.
But Barclay knows what I mean. “Someone in IA is involved.”
Which would also explain the liability issue—Barclay was taken off the case because someone above him doesn’t actually want it solved.
Because Ben is a convenient scapegoat.
05:17:01:46
I listen to everything Barclay says while I fight to keep my breathing even and my hands still.
I’m tempted to run upstairs, change my clothes, give Jared a hug and tell him I’ll be back, and bolt through a portal with Barclay—charge off and rescue Ben from these false charges. This is Ben. He saved my life, and I would do anything for him.
This is Ben—and I love him.
Even though I don’t trust Barclay himself, I trust his motives. This is Barclay wanting to do the right thing—get the right guy—and it’s him wanting to do the right thing for his career. Plus he and Eric were partners, and there’s an unwritten rule in law enforcement that says when your partner is killed, you do whatever it takes to nail the guy responsible.
But for me there’s still one very important thing to consider.
“How can I possibly help you?” I ask.
Barclay purses his lips, and I know he must have a well-thought-out reason. He strikes me as a guy who hardly ever asks for help, and I doubt I’m his go-to person. But whatever it is, he’s hesitant to tell me.
“I’m serious,” I add. “Even without IA resources, you’re still way more equipped to handle this alone. At best, I’ll slow you down. At worst, I’ll get in your way.”
He doesn’t say anything—he looks like he’s trying to weigh his words before speaking. Given his ability to offend me pretty easily, I can’t say I blame him.
“Don’t underestimate yourself,” he says finally. “I did that, and you almost shot me.”
“That’s different. We were here.” I shake my head. “How is me traipsing through different worlds with you going to be helpful? Plus, I have my brother to think about and a world to help rebuild.”
He rolls his eyes. “My plan is a little more sophisticated than that, Tenner.”
“So what is it?”
He doesn’t say anything, and that’s when I have my answer. I’m not going to blindly leave my world and put my life in Barclay’s hands, when I can’t think of anything that would actually help me find Ben or prove him innocent. “My answer is no.”
“You can’t say no. I—”
“This isn’t about you,” I say over him.
Barclay stands up and begins pacing around the room in front of me. “This is important. You need to come with me—I can’t find Ben without you.”
“Tell me your plan, and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
He shakes his head.
Stupid prick. “Then get out of my house,” I say as I stand up. I’ve had enough.
I’m halfway to the stairs when Barclay says, “You’re in danger, Tenner.”
I stop and turn to him. His expression is blank, his blue eyes just staring at me, without betraying whatever it is he’s thinking.
I don’t get a chance to ask him why. Because right then, as I’m halfway up the stairs, the front door flies open and Deirdre is there, gun drawn, with about a dozen Marines at her back, screaming at Barclay, telling him to put his hands on his head and get down on the ground.
05:16:53:35
“I can’t fucking believe this shit,” Barclay says as he raises his hands.
From the stairs, I yell that it’s okay, that it’s just Barclay, but no one listens.
The Marines move into the apartment, sweeping into position to cover any possible escape and to make sure no one else is here. Their guns are pointed at Barclay, their eyes only on him.
Deirdre shouts at Barclay and advances on him swiftly but cautiously. The look on her face is absolutely feral—this is Deirdre Rice, FBI agent, and Deirdre Rice, widow and mother of two kids, all in one. Deirdre, who’s not about to lose anyone else. If I was Barclay, I’d be scared.
As she moves in, Barclay keeps his hands raised. He’s relaxed, but with a clear look of annoyance on his face, as if this is inconvenient for him.
He doesn’t even flinch as Deirdre moves in and disarms him,