Page 201 of Whisper

Dawood had stolen his CIA-issued laptop.

Dawood had robbed him.

Dawood hadusedhim.

And he was gone.Again.

He had to call Dan.

Chapter 30

Crystal City, Virginia

September 9

0845 hours

FBI forensic technicians crawled over Kris’s apartment. Their soft chatter filled the empty spaces, the deafening silent scream that split Kris’s head in two. He huddled at his kitchen counter, slumped on a barstool, arms wrapped around himself.

Dan paced behind him, from the stove to the refrigerator and back, talking softly into his phone. “Yeah, it’s all gone. His laptop, his access card, everything.” Silence. “I havenoidea what I’m supposed to tell these FBI guys, Ryan.” More silence. “Yeah, okay. Okay, thanks.” He hung up with a sigh.

He didn’t look at Kris.

Fingerprint dust glittered in the air, a dark grit that hovered, that caught in Kris’s throat. Techs flipped back his stained bedsheets one by one. Ran their flashlights over every inch of his bed, pulled fingerprints from his mirror, from his bed frame.

A tech with a set of tweezers grabbed a long, dark hair from the carpet where Dawood had prayed. He dropped it in a plastic baggie marked EVIDENCE and sealed it, set it aside.

Kris’s stomach twisted, clenched. Bile crawled up his throat. He buried his face in his hands, exhaled slowly.

Everythingburned. Everything in him burned, a searing shame, a fire that, if he believed in anything at all, he’d call the wrath of God.

He wassofucking ashamed.

How had he been so fucking stupid?

Anger bubbled, simmered with resentment, with regret, recrimination. He should have told Dawood to get the fuck out. He should have told him to call the CIA, the FBI, call anyone, and sort out his legal status—dead or not dead—before saying a word to Kris. He should have told him that ten years without reaching out was ten years too many.

He should have told Dawood that ten years changed a man.

Because it had. Itfuckinghad.

What had happened to the man he knew? The man he loved?

Kris chewed on his upper lip, memories tumbling. Had that been his husband, last night? Had that really been him? It felt like him. Tasted like him. His soul thought it was his love, his partner, his husband.

But how had his husband, the love of his life, left him…again?

And stolen his laptop, his CIA ID badge, and his access card.

Nothing made sense.

Did Dawood love him?

Or was that all an elaborate pretense, a game to get what he needed? Get Kris’s access to the CIA, his files, his laptop.

Behind him, Dan cleared his throat. He stood as far from Kris as he could, and looked like he wanted to crawl the walls, stand on the countertop, get even farther from Kris. As far as he could. “Ryan has told the FBI this is a national security incident. Everything about this is being locked down. FBI will report direct to the CIA deputy director on this.”

“To George?” Kris picked at the dark granite of his countertop.