The Defenseless Read Online Free PDF Page A

arctic.”
    I rolled my eyes and faced out the passenger-side window. Another frustrating attempt at conversation with Jack. I might as well go for the gold. During a recent interrogation he had let something slip and I was determined to get full disclosure. “You never told me about your kids.”
    He inhaled and flicked the butt out the window, closed it and continued to drive, with his eyes on the road.
    According to the GPS we were still twenty minutes out, but the technology didn’t account for treacherous roads and weather conditions. Maybe we ’d sit in silence the entire way.
    When Jack still hadn’t responded a minute later, I tried another tactic. “You think I’m going to give up, but I’m not. I’m going to find out—”
    Jack faced me.
    I peeled one hand off the dash and pointed ahead. “The road.”
    He ignored my plea. His eyes were still on me. “You want to know about my kid?”
    Faced with the direct question, under his burning gaze, I wasn ’t sure if I cared anymore—and the road conditions…his focus should be there.
    If I didn’t calm myself and carry out what I had started, he’d never comply. Both my hands went to the dash, but it was freezing. I pulled them back and blew on them, doing my best to be nonchalant. “Only if you want to tell me.”
    “Hmm.”
    His eyes went back to the road, and I drew a full breath.
    Seconds passed in silence.
    “Why not just pull my background?” Jack asked.
    “You’re kidding.”
    “Nope.”
    “I’d need a reason—and clearance.”
    “You could have Nadia do it.”
    The gears in my head moved. What could I say to that? That I’d thought of it but would never dream of following through?
    “Of course, if I found out you did, you’d be off the team faster than a shooting star.”
    We slid to a stop at a four-way. To hell with it. I’d brave the cold plastic. “I never have…pulled your background.”
    “Good.”
    The GPS showed one minute from our destination. Why did I have a feeling we’d get there and I still wouldn ’t have an answer?
    “You know it doesn’t really matter if you have a kid.” I shook my head. “Really. It changes nothing.” Just adds a little character …
    “I don’t have a kid.”
    He pulled into the Simpsons ’ driveway.
    “What do you mean? You told that guy months ago—”
    “Yeah, I know what I told him.”
    I studied Jack ’s profile. The intensity in his gaze, how he now avoided eye contact, he was lying.
    *****
     
    The house was in a nice neighborhood. I imagined all the lawns would be manicured in the summer months and the garden beds alive with color. The structure itself was gray block, lending it a modernistic design perfect for the architectural types. The front face of the building was broken up by numerous large windows that would let in natural light. Today, there wasn’t much of it; the sky was heavy with cloud cover. There was only a faint hope that the snow would stop falling anytime soon.
    I rang the doorbell and it chimed a beautiful rendition of some classical song I recognized but couldn’t name. That wasn ’t within my realm of expertise, but I’d say the bell had been custom-designed.
    A brunette, obviously struggling on her tiptoes, peeked through the high window in the door. Her eyes scanned us from head to as far down as she could see. She lifted a hand and waved us away. “We have religion.”
    She was still in the window when Jack hit the doorbell again.
    The door whooshed open, fighting against its seal.
    “I told you—” Her attention went to Jack’s credentials.
    “Can we come in?”
    She slid her bottom lip through her teeth. “Sure.”
    “We want to speak with—”
    “Jenna,” the brunette yelled over her shoulder. “The FBI is here to see you.”
    “The FBI?” She pranced, in bare feet, into the grand foyer. When she saw us, her steps slowed.
    Jenna Simpson was slight, like the woman who had let us in. She wore tights and a large sweater that fell off