Wasted Lust - JA Huss Page 0,24
one who reacts out of emotion, but one who calculates and plots her actions. And the reason she has not fucked up and made contact with anyone is because she’s on a course I haven’t yet recognized.
What is that course she’s on? Where is she headed? What was she doing that day I confronted her at the airport?
It occurs to me that I would’ve found out if I had not approached her. But how was I to know Nick wasn’t making contact with her? Everything pointed to it. It felt so… imminent.
I stop in front of her door and hesitate, shifting the bags in my hand to free up a finger to push the doorbell. There’s something else that’s been nagging me since I walked her home earlier as well. Why choose this path of academia? It’s always seemed like a copout to me. A way to prolong an entrance into the real world. A reason to push life away.
What is she hiding from?
She has plenty of reasons to hide from her past. Growing up the way she did would make anyone want to prolong an entrance into society. But I don’t think that’s it. I don’t think it’s Nick, either. I have an idea of what they were to each other, but why join this small world of ambitious nerds, a world she so clearly does not belong in, only to push it all away and cloister herself in this tower of her own making?
It doesn’t add up.
I sigh as I push the doorbell. I can’t hear it, so I’m not even sure it works. But after a few seconds I hear a whirring noise of some well-hidden camera trying to focus. “Sasha?” I ask out loud, knowing full well she is watching me. “Open the door.”
“I’m not interested in your date, Agent Jax. In fact, I’m very busy tonight. You have five seconds to remove yourself from my porch before I call the police.”
I bow my head so she can’t see me smirk, and then look up. “I am the police, Miss Aston.”
“No,” she says calmly from the safety of her intercom. “You’re some kind of rogue agent. I’m not sure. I really haven’t thought about you much over the past few months. But if I wanted to figure you out, if I were interested enough, I would have you all figured out. And you are here under someone’s orders, but I’ll bet they are not legitimate. In fact, you’ve been here far too long. So I’m betting that you had to make contact today for some specific reason. Perhaps you’ve been called back. Perhaps your rogue superior has had enough. Or perhaps there is another lead that you must follow. Either way, I have a feeling that if I just hold out a little bit longer you will disappear as quickly as you came.”
Jesus Christ. She’s a fucking mind-reader too. I straighten my tie to buy me a moment to gather myself, and then say, “Astute observation, Miss Aston. But you’re wrong. I have carte blanche in this case. All the time in the world, in fact.”
“Whatever—”
“But listen,” I say, lowering my voice. I imagine her leaning in to the speaker on the other side of her fortress to hear me better. “We had a date. It’s eight o’clock and I’m here to make good on my promise this morning.”
“Not interested, Agent—”
“You can’t possibly know that, Miss Cherlin, until you hear my offer. So please open the door and let me explain your options face to face.”
“This conversation is over. Goodnight, Agent.”
I drape the one bag over a nearby porch chair, set the other bag down on a small table next to it, and then remove the photograph from my breast pocket and hold it up. Her cameras are not visible, so I pan it across the front entrance. “We made contact with Nick Tate, Miss Cherlin. We don’t have him in custody and we don’t know where he is. But we know he’s about to make contact with you. We think he’s going to kill a lot of people, Sasha. And we need your insight to stop that.”
Silence.
And then the whirring of the camera lens. I hold the image still. It’s a much better photo than the ones I showed her months ago.
“I know you two have a history. If you open the door and talk to me face to face right now, I’ll let you have this photograph.”
Silence.
And then the unmistakable sound of disengaging locks