Page 67

Madeline didn’t look shocked.More like…disappointed?But she nodded.“The same affliction that plagued Hudson.”A soft sigh.“Be careful, Eb.I really don’t want to lose two agents.”
Fuck this.“Was Hudson a killer?”Don’t think about what she said regarding Naomi’s past.Not now.
“Ah, come on.Don’t play the faked shocked role with me.This is the CIA.”Madeline’s gaze flickered toward the one-way mirror.“We’re all killers.”Low.Mocking.
There was a difference between cold-blooded murder and stopping someone who was about to detonate a bomb and kill dozens of people.Or stopping someone who was running at you with a freaking machine gun as he fired wildly and took out innocents in a crowd?—
“Tell yourself whatever you have to in order to sleep through the night,” Madeline added.“But at its core, you know the job.You know agents have to do things that push them to the edge.And sometimes, beyond that edge.It takes a certain personality type to handle the job.Otherwise, guilt would eat you alive.”Her gaze flickered over him.Then shifted toward Naomi.“Every employee at the Agency is given a personality assessment.A deep psychological analysis.We have to make sure that people are in the positions that fit their individual talents.”
“Yeah.”Annoyed, from Naomi.“Was Hudson’s individual talent his ability to kill women?Because I’ve been told by someone with a pretty damn good bit of knowledge about killers that he did, indeed, have a talent for?—”
“Memphis Camden is wonderful at tracking down runaway criminals,” Madeline cut in to say.“He’s got a knack for understanding the dark motivations of killers, but he is far from infallible.”
Eb sucked in a deep breath.“Memphis came to you.He told you about his suspicions.”
She tipped her head forward.“Memphis came to me.AfterHudson’s murder.”A quiet admission.“But I informed him that he didn’t have a full picture of Hudson.Or of what he thought Hudson was doing with the, ah, international victims, that Memphis had compiled.”A shake of her head.“One person’s victim is another’s monster who must be stopped.Things are not black and white, and Memphis should have realized that much, much sooner.Especially with his own past.”
Shit.Eb’s heart slammed into his chest.“They were sanctioned kills.”The international victims that Memphis had tried to link to Hudson hadn’t been part of a serial killer’s twisted bloodbath.They’d been targets that the CIA had wanted eliminated.So Hudson had eliminated them.
Madeline stared back at him.Not confirming.Not denying.Just as the silence stretched a bit too long, she finally said, “I think we’ve shared enough in this police station, don’t you?Let’s head to a different location.”A quiet clearing of her throat.“Memphis was made to see the error of his profile regarding Hudson.Memphis is not, after all, a professional when it comes to creating profiles on killers.”A wave of her hand toward the one-way mirror.“Memphis actually had told his story to Detective Anderson.A very inconvenient tale.I closed down that line of investigation because there are some things that my bosses at the CIA refuse to be allowed public.”
Damn.Hudson had definitely killed some of those women, but it seemed that he’d done it under orders from the CIA?
“Don’t look so judgmental, Eb,” she chided.“You’ve had similar orders.You know evil comes in all shapes and sizes.”
His back teeth ground together.The people he’d taken out had been the worst of the worst—and they’d all been moments away from destroying innocent lives.Sick, sadistic torturers who?—
Naomi called Hudson sadistic.Twisted.
And now she probably thinks I’m exactly like him.
“If it’s any consolation to you, Hudson didn’t kill the girl from his teenage years.Memphis was wrong about that situation.Hudson loved Mary and mourned her for years.”Madeline’s tone was brisk.“The real killer from that time period was eliminated ages ago.By Hudson.Now, as I said, it’s time to leave this station.Any other reveals will have to wait.Or rather, just not happen at all.Naomi, frankly, you don’t have clearance for more.And, Eb, seeing as how you just reminded me moments ago that you no longer work for me…well, you don’t have clearance, either.It’s the end of the road for you both.As far as CIA intel is concerned, that is.”
He didn’t need clearance.He had shady-ass friends like Hunter and Declan who would help him retrieve the information he needed.
“The CIA will be heading up the investigation into Ivan’s murder,” Madeline announced.“The locals will understand that we are in charge.”
“Uh, yeah, the CIAhasno law enforcement function,” he reminded her because this was absolute bullshit, and he wasn’t some deluded local cop to fall into line just because some government official intimidated him.“Our job is to focus on intelligence gathering.”
“Right.”She winked at him.
“We only do domestic intel collection on a limited basis.”An extremely limited basis.“Our primary work is international.”That was why he’d bounced from country to country and why his ability to pick up new languages had been so important to the CIA.“You don’t have the power to take over this case.Even Detective Anderson will realize that.”
“Ivan Sokolov was an international criminal.Wanted in four countries.He had valuable intel to offer to us, particularly regarding organized crime, arms deals, narcotics, and even terrorism.I can assure you, his murder—correction, his assassination—falls within our jurisdiction.A call to the governor of Louisiana will make sure that he has my back on this.”
Yeah, Eb was sure the governor would back her up.The CIA always got backing.
“If you should change your mind and want your old job back, then perhaps I will be able to share additional intel with you, but until then…” A shrug of her delicate shoulders.“How about you stay away from baseball bats—sorry, softball bats?And you be very, very careful with the company you keep.”Her gaze darted to Naomi.Lingered.“Because some people can just be absolutely killer.”
There wasn’ta crowd waiting outside.The soon-to-be-setting sun was bright.Blaring.And when Naomi left the police station, she wasn’t immediately greeted by shouting reporters.
So Ivan’s murder—and her link to him—hadn’t been shared by the cops yet.Or by Eb’s CIA buddies.Great to know.
She marched toward the sidewalk with Henry close to her side.
Eb wrapped his hand around her shoulder.“My car is this way.”
“Fantastic.Go jump into it.I’ll message a driver and find my own way home.”Or she could find her own hotel.No, scratch that—she didn’t have enough money for a good hotel room.Let’s circle back to the safe house idea…If Eb would cough up the address for the place, she’d get there on her own.