Say It Again (First Wives, #5)(32)

Her expression hardened. “Don’t insult me.”

Pohl met her granite stare with one of his own. “I want you on my team, Sasha. And will do just about anything to obtain your service.”

His words smacked entirely too close to a threat. Brigitte’s comment about Pohl not taking rejection well was showing.

“You can’t afford me.”

Pohl crossed his arms over his chest, a slow smile reached his lips. “That’s unfortunate.”

Sasha turned to leave.

At the door, he stopped her.

“If you change your mind, or if, perhaps, your circumstances change . . . my offer stands.”

Sasha walked from the office, not bothering to close the door.





Chapter Twelve



Sasha walked to the center of the courtyard. Surrounding her were all the educational buildings, the kitchen, and dining hall, with all the lower levels there to hide what Richter was all about from the outside eye.

Students walked past her, rushing to class . . . talking among themselves.

How many students had Pohl recruited in the past?

How many young, innocent, yet talented kids took a job and found themselves stuck? She’d bet the bank that at least one of the women on AJ’s list was someone Pohl knew personally.

She needed to leave. Analyze the data she’d managed to download the night before and find the links.

Her phone, the one that hadn’t rung on campus in two days, buzzed in her back pocket.

Not recognizing the number, she brought it to her ear. “Hello.”

“Holy shit, Sasha, Creepazoid is a total douchebag.”

Sasha lowered her voice. “Claire?”

“He wanted to hire you to be a killer. You caught that, right?”

Sasha looked around. Students rushed by. “You heard the conversation?”

“All of it. That’s why I’m calling. The minute you left the room, he made a call. I only heard his side.”

“Could you tell who he was talking to?” Linette, maybe?

“No. But he said they needed to move on to plan B.”

Plan B?

“No details?”

“Sorry. Like I said, I only heard one side of the conversation. Do you think he meant plan B to make you work for them?”

Sasha noticed a clustering of gray clouds blowing over her. “You can’t make someone work for you . . .” Unless . . .

“I’m glad you told him what to do with his job.”

“Are you still in the boiler room?”

“How do you think I called you? I don’t have a cell phone.”

Sasha headed toward the kitchens. “Can you copy the conversation onto a drive and meet me outside the library in twenty minutes?”

“Yeah.”

“Perfect.” Sasha hung up and made her way to Brigitte’s classroom.



“How did it go?” Linette asked Pohl once she returned to her office. The question was a formality. She could tell from his expression Sasha had turned him down.

“Seems your alum has no need of the income I can offer.”

Linette took her robe off, hung it up. “I warned you that might be the case.”

“I wasted my time, Linette. You know how much I hate doing that.”

She met his gaze, unfazed. “At least you haven’t wasted your money.”

Pohl tugged at the sleeves of his jacket, first the left, then the right. “And you have not earned a finder’s fee.”

“It appears so.”

He glared, and she did her best to not let him see her discomfort.

“I’ll be in touch.”

Linette shook his hand and stayed on her feet until after he’d left her office.

Once gone, she sank into her chair and opened the bottom drawer. In the back, behind several files, she removed a flask and twisted off the top. She poured herself a drink into the empty coffee cup on her desk.



Sasha stood in the doorway of Brigitte’s studio and waited until she noticed her before motioning toward the locker room.

It didn’t take long for the woman to find her.

“How did your meeting go?” Brigitte asked once she was at her side.

Sasha shook her head. “I didn’t take his job.”

The other woman smiled. “Good. Being a spy is dangerous work.”

“You really think that’s what he recruits?”

“Isn’t that the job he offered?”

“No. More like a hired gun.”

Brigitte stopped smiling. “What?”

“Those weren’t his words, but I knew what he was suggesting. If I wanted to shoot at people, or be a part of a team that did that kind of thing, I’d have joined a military.”

“I always thought his recruiting was more legitimate than that.” Brigitte regarded her with remorse. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“I am. I came here to find some kind of direction in my life and I now realize that answers aren’t here. Time for me to move on.”

Brigitte shifted on her feet. “I’m going to miss you. You’ve been a bright light in the last week.” She moved in for a hug.

Sasha stiffened. “I’m not a hugger.”