Consumed Read Online Free PDF Page A

That’s not too old for a man,” she said. “I mean, you could have a bunch of kids with somebody ten years younger than me.”
    I cleared my throat. “The kid thing was your idea, remember? I never said we had to have kids. And all I want is you, kids or not.” I figured a dose of reality combined with telling her she was all I wanted might do the trick.
    “I know, and you’re sure?” she asked.
    I leaned back and rubbed my eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. I mean, we have a pretty damn good life as it is, don’t we?”
    “Of course we do. I don’t know. I just… Can you deal with it just being you and me?”
    “It’s been just you and me for twenty years. I’m pretty sure the next twenty will be just as good. Plus, we have Porkchop. I think of him as a son. A fat little slobbering, furry son that poops in the yard, but a son nonetheless.”
    I heard her chuckle and sigh. “I love you. Okay.”
    I wasn’t really sure if her saying ‘okay’ meant we were done trying or what, but I wouldn’t question it further. The conversation wasn’t really something for the telephone when I was multiple states away at work.
    “Are you all right?” I asked.
    “I’m fine, babe. Go back to work and give me a call later.”
    “Okay. I’ll call you as soon as I can. I love you.”
    “Love you, too.” Karen hung up.
    I clicked off from the call and stuck my phone back in my pocket. After letting out a long breath, I heard tapping at the room door, so I walked over and opened up.
    “Ready?” Beth asked.
    “Yeah, one car or two?”
    “Let’s just take mine. I doubt we’ll need to split up already.”
    “Sure,” I said. “One second.” I grabbed my laptop bag, which contained the investigation file and left the room. We took Beth’s car from the lot and headed west for the hour drive to the resident agency. I spent the hour listening to Beth tell me about the movie she’d seen the prior night with her new love interest, Geoff the banker. He brought her a single rose and chocolates when he’d arrived, held doors for her all night, and sent her off with a kiss on the cheek at the end of their date—a real gentleman, she said. It all sounded a little too good to be true, so I asked a few follow-up questions. Beth went on to say that he’d paid for his movie in change and an older woman had dropped him off and picked him up from their date—Beth was thinking that was his mother. I nodded but didn’t say anything further.
    The navigation on Beth’s cell phone said the address for the resident agency was coming up on the left. She put on her blinker and slowed down.
    “Um,” I said, staring out the window to my left.
    Small single-story red brick buildings made up what looked like an office park. All the buildings were the same size, none much larger than a common three-bedroom ranch. Each building looked the same, with six white windows and a row of parking spaces at the front and side.
    Beth turned in.
    I caught the sign listing the businesses as we entered the lot. I saw things like attorney names, a dentist, and a number of insurance offices. Beth made a couple of turns through the lot before finding our building—the Clarksville resident agency. We parked. I grabbed my file and stepped out.
    “Not quite the glamor of our—or the Chicago—office, huh?” Beth asked.
    “Not really. There can’t be more than a dozen agents that work here.”
    “Probably not even that many.”
    We walked for the front door and entered. Just beyond the entryway was a short, waist-high wall like one seen in a courtroom. Just behind the wall, a woman sat at a desk. I assumed her to be some form of receptionist. Beyond her, to the left, right, and back were offices. I noticed a few potted trees in the corners and a group of five or six desks in the center of the room. Between the offices on the back wall was a big metal FBI insignia.
    Beth approached the short wall and the woman at the desk.
    She pulled out her credentials.