Say It Again (First Wives, #5)(27)

“A suspect?”

“I don’t know. She just asked me to look him up.”

“Did she suggest they are related?”

“No, in fact it sounded the opposite when we talked.”

“I don’t like any of this, Reed.”

Neither did he. “You text me, every six hours. Set your alarm if you have to.” Reed wrote down the time he should hear from AJ next. “We need more names.”



Sasha stepped into Brigitte’s home and was knocked back by all the vibrant colors. Floral motifs on sideboards, potted plants . . . even the print on the sofa was a soft white with a light green pattern. When Brigitte had suggested they have dinner away from Richter, Sasha jumped at the excuse to leave the grounds and make a couple of calls without any chance of eavesdropping.

“This is not what I expected to see,” Sasha said out loud.

Brigitte dropped her car key on the foyer table and shed her coat as she made her way to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home.”

Sasha looked around. “I’m not sure I can,” she whispered to herself.

Floral and feminine were not words that described her personality.

“I heard that.”

Sasha followed her into the kitchen.

“How about a glass of wine?”

Not her thing, but she’d drink it. “Thank you.” She sat at the counter and watched Brigitte walk around the small space. “What prompted the dinner invite?”

The woman didn’t meet her gaze. “I thought it would be nice.”

Sasha narrowed her eyes.

“And Linette suggested it. The woman isn’t social, but she likes to have information that one can obtain by a simple conversation over dinner.”

Sasha leaned back. “You have me here to ask questions?”

“That’s what Linette thinks.” Brigitte removed a bottle from a wine rack and proceeded to work at the cork.

“She can ask me anything,” Sasha said.

“But as your former headmistress, will you be truthful in your answers? Old habits die hard.”

Brigitte tilted the bottle and wine rushed into a glass. She handed one to Sasha and poured one for herself.

She took a taste, didn’t exactly hate it, and drank a little more. “So, what does Linette want to know?”

Brigitte removed chicken from her fridge and an armload of vegetables. “She asked about your friend who called today. Wanted to know if you had fostered any deep friendships since you left Richter.”

“Why would she want to know that?”

Brigitte floated around her kitchen, removed the chicken from its wrapper, and proceeded to season it while she talked.

“She assumed you hadn’t. At least that’s my theory. Then the call today made her think again. You don’t have to tell me anything. And I don’t have to tell Linette, if you prefer I don’t.”

Sasha sipped her wine again, thought about Reed and his wife. The men Reed worked with, and on occasion she did, too.

She thought of Trina, the sister-in-law through her lost brother. Trina was now married to a country singer and living her life in Texas.

“These are the kinds of things Mr. Pohl is going to ask you when you meet with him again.”

“Why would he care?”

Brigitte stopped her busy hands. “Because spies don’t have families. If they did, it would be a weakness.”

“And that’s what Pohl is recruiting? Spies?”

Her hostess turned on the oven and placed the chicken inside. “Every year I see our graduates line up, and I can pick out the students Pohl will approach. On a rare occasion, we’d have a graduating class that didn’t have the profile of students he wanted. I would imagine that some of the kids didn’t want the job.”

“You make it sound like he’s recruiting several every year.”

She moved on to the vegetables and started to make a salad. “Linette has those numbers. Not me. I do know that the last ten years, you’re the only student in that profile who has returned to Richter.”

“I was never offered a position.”

“That’s going to change. Pohl has asked every instructor at the school to report to him after you’ve left the room.” Brigitte leaned a hip against the counter, took her wineglass in her hand. “You’re conditioned to do the kind of job he will offer, Sasha, but you might ask yourself if it’s how you want to spend your entire life.”

“You’re warning me away from the idea.”

Brigitte shrugged, returned to her task of salad making. “Yeah. I am. I despise that the man comes into the school and handpicks the most emotionally vulnerable students we have.”

Sasha felt her hair rise. “I am not emotionally vulnerable.”

“Ha. You’re an orphan. No family at all. You returned to Richter because of those facts. I’m going to guess that your personal relationships consist of a good fuck and off you go.” Brigitte looked her in the eye. “Am I missing anything?”

Sasha didn’t deny her.

“That’s what I thought. All fine and well, but what about when you want to let someone in? A good friend, or a lover that wants more? Living alone your whole life is overrated.” She spread her arms wide. “Take it from me. Work and vacationing alone is no way to live.”