Page 43 of Girl, Empty (Ella Dark #27)

The TSA agent did a double-take at Ella’s passport photo, then at her face, then back to the photo like he was trying to solve a spot-the-difference puzzle.

‘Rough night?’ he asked.

‘You should see the other guy.’

‘Very good.’

Ella and Ripley passed through security, then came the fork in the road. Ella’s gate went to the left, Ripley’s to the right.

‘You sure you don’t want me to come with you?’ Ripley asked.

‘No. You hate where I’m going.’

‘That’s true. Did you… sign the thing?’

Ella felt the affidavit in her jacket pocket. The folded piece of paper had been prodding her in the ribs for the three days now, but she kept it there out of some masochistic urge to remind herself that she still had the nuclear option at her disposal.

‘No. Not yet.’

‘Are you going to?’

Ella didn’t have an answer.

‘I’m going to stop by the office if I have time. If Edis still has a job, he’s probably there. I’ll give him the rundown of everything.’

‘Thank you. I’ll be back in a day or two. Don’t do anything stupid without me.’

‘No promises.’

And with that, Ella went to Gate 13, carrying her burdens toward whatever truth waited for her on the other side of the sky.

***

It was after midnight by the time Mia Ripley got back to D.C., and she’d stopped by HQ on the way home to begin the arduous paperwork process. Even as a consultant, the admin work hadn’t lessened, even if the responsibility had.

On the top floor of the building, she passed Director Edis’s office, and noticed his blurry silhouette on the other side of the frosted glass. Ripley figured that he was probably spending his last few days tying everything up before his ceremonial kicking to the curb.

One knock. The silhouette moved a little. ‘Come in.’

Ripley pushed inside and closed the door behind her.

The paper mountain on Edis’s desk had been replaced with cardboard boxes, and the director was rifling through the closet where he kept his spare suits.

Ripley always thought it took an impressive level of self-assurance to install a private closet in a federal building, as if you never expected to be cleaning it out one day.

‘Will. Saw your car in the lot. Thought I would come and pick my roses up while you were here.’

‘You came at the right time,’ Edis said. He gestured to the boxes. ‘This is my final hour.’

‘You’re going? Now?’

‘Correct.’

Ripley’s stomach went into free fall. She’d seen a grand total of five directors come and go during her time here, but for some reason, she struggled to imagine a post-Edis Bureau. He was as much a part of the furniture as the flags outside.

And if he was going, it meant someone new was taking his place.

‘Who’s the replacement?’

‘Oh, no replacement yet, but my federal authority expires at midnight on the ten-year anniversary of my swearing-in. That’s today.’ Edis checked his watch. ‘Well, yesterday. As of five minutes ago, I’m a civilian. You don’t have to answer to me anymore.’

Ripley wrestled with two sudden conflicting truths. William Edis, the man she’d endured the past ten years with, was leaving, and that stung. This was the end of an era, and endings deserved a moment of sadness regardless of how turbulent the journey had been.

The second truth was that there was apparently no new director on the horizon, and the speed of which she imagined herself behind that desk felt like a betrayal of the man who was still packing up his suits.

‘Thank you for clearing up that mess in Indianapolis, by the way,’ Edis said.

‘It’s what we do.’

Edis removed a hanger of blue ties and set them in the box on his desk. He smiled and said, ‘You know, I don’t deserve you and Miss Dark. You’ve been my best assets for years, and if not for you two, I’d be leaving this place with a lot less dignity.’

‘Yes you would.’

‘All those demands, some of them downright crazy. And you two answered the call every time and never let me down. So, thank you. I mean it.’

‘You took a chance with that rookie program, and it paid off. It was all your idea, and if you remember rightly, I was dead against it.’

‘Yes you were, but nothing ever changes by staying the same. We took a risk.’

There might never be another chance to do this, Ripley told herself, so she had to do it now. She had no idea if this was the right way to go about it, or even if the director had any sway in this. Still, if she didn’t do it, she’d regret it forever.

‘Sir, I…’

‘Sir?’ Edis laughed. ‘You haven’t called me that since the day we met. When you and Byford took me and the Attorney General to that sports bar. Pretty sure I’ve got some photos of that night in my drawer somewhere.’

‘Good times,’ she said.

‘Sorry, what were you going to ask?’

Ripley swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Will, you said I answered all of your crazy requests without fail. I’ve got a crazy request of my own.’

Edis went back to his closet and unearthed a charcoal grey suit. He smoothed down the blazer and said, ‘Now’s your chance. What is it?’

‘You know, I’m running out of space for all my clothes back at my place, and if your closet is empty…’

The director’s hand stopped working. His head spun first, followed by his shoulders a second later. He held the charcoal blazer out to his side, his arm locked straight, as if he'd forgotten he was holding it at all. ‘Stop, Mia.’

‘Why?’

He laid the suit on the desk. ‘Because you can’t.’

‘Why can’t I?’

‘You want to sit here? In this office? And deal with all the crap that comes with it?’

‘Yes,’ Ripley said.

'Do you have any idea what this job involves? I didn't just spend ten years giving orders, you know? I had to'

'Will, you're the fifth director I'm saying goodbye to, and yes, I know what you do. I know you're a politician. I've seen the stress, late nights, legal battles, public humiliations, budget cuts, and death threats. I've seen them more close-up than you might realize.'

‘Mia, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you’re not a politician. You don’t gel with that world at all.’

‘You just said it a minute ago. Nothing changes by staying the same.’

Edis went silent for a moment. ‘You know I oversee the entire Bureau, correct? I don’t just deal with Behavioral.’

‘And I’ve worked with every department in here.

Intelligence, Counter-terrorism, Fraud, Cyber Crimes.

You name it. You don’t last 30 years in this place without seeing every single corner at least once.

You could get recommendations from every head.

You can show them my track record. Most cases closed of any field agent in history.

More commendations of any agent since Douglas.

Half the senior agents in this building came up through training protocols I designed after Quantico.

Three academic papers, all required reading for new recruits.

I testified before two different Senate Intelligence Committees.

I’ve shaken hands with six presidents. Does none of this at least put me in the running? ’

Edis reached out, picked up one of the blue ties, and ran the silk fabric between his thumb and forefinger. He wasn't looking at Ripley anymore, but at the empty space between them. ‘That’s what I wanted to hear.’

‘What? My credentials?’

'No. The passion. And yes, I can recommend my successor, but that's all it is. A recommendation. There's no guarantee of anything, and you can't ask to be my decision. It has to be my decision, unsolicited. Okay?’

Ripley said nothing. She understood the distinction. He wasn’t denying her; he was giving her the protocol.

‘This conversation, right here, can’t exist,’ Edis continued.

He dropped the tie into the box. ‘If it gets out that you solicited my endorsement, it becomes political maneuvering. Our enemies, and the Bureau has plenty, will use it to bury you before your nomination even gets to the Senate floor. I have to keep any seedy backroom deals to a minimum, you understand?’

Ripley glanced over at the flowers. ‘Ella appreciates the roses.’

Edis’s expression suggested that he caught Ripley’s double-meaning. ‘I’m sure she does. Now, I think you should take them, since they’re what you really came for, aren’t they?’

‘Yes they are, but I’m not leaving until I’ve given you a hug.’

‘A hug? Mia, I’ve never seen you hug anybody.’

Ripley didn't answer. She closed the space between them.

For a half-second, Edis looked like he might recoil, then her hands came up and pressed flat against his back, one on each shoulder blade.

It was less an embrace and more a physical punctuation mark to their ten years.

She could feel the tense knot of muscle under his suit jacket.

And then she stepped back, crossed to the liquor cabinet, and picked up her flowers. 'Goodbye, Will. It's been a ride.'

He just nodded. ‘Yes it has. And trust me. You’ve never let me down, and I’ll do everything I can to return the favor.’

‘Thank you, sir. If you need anything in the future, you know where to find me.’

Edis tapped the back of his chair. ‘I believe I do.’