The Eighth Sister (Charles Jenkins #1)(82)

“That’s where the card might help,” Sloane said.

“Maybe,” Jenkins said. “But I’m not comfortable with going public to get to that point. Not yet anyway.”

“So maybe you don’t say anything. Maybe the leak will know he dodged a bullet, and move on,” Sloane said.

“Maybe,” Jenkins said. “But I can’t do that.”

“Can’t do what?” Alex asked.

This was the conversation he was dreading. “I can’t just let this go.”

“Why not?” Alex said. “If the person keeps silent, doesn’t do any more damage, why not let it go?”

Jenkins knew Alex was afraid of what could happen to him, and that fear was motivating her questions. “Because someone in the CIA is either a Russian mole capable of continuing to do harm, or an opportunistic leak responsible for the direct deaths of at least three women, and likely others. Beyond that, there are still four more sisters out there. I can’t walk away not knowing if that person intends to disclose their names. They have no idea this is going on, which makes them sitting ducks.”

“That’s not your responsibility,” Alex said. “You shouldn’t have even been involved in the first place. You were lied to.”

“But I am involved, and it is my responsibility. I can’t in good conscience leave those remaining four women to die.”

“Those women knew what they signed on for,” Alex said, becoming more agitated. “They knew the dangers.”

“Those women have served this country for decades. I can’t abandon them. I won’t abandon them. If I do, it means that a very good woman gave her life for nothing. It means that a Turkish family . . . that all of you put your lives at risk for nothing.”

“Bullshit,” Alex said, pushing back her chair and struggling to stand. “Those people were paid to get you out, and we put our lives at risk to bring home my husband and my children’s father. You have a family to think of now.”

“I know that.”

“Then let this go.”

“And every time I open a paper and read of someone dying in Russia, I’ll wonder if that was another sister, if I could have saved that person’s life.”

“Well, that would be a hell of a lot better than me opening the paper and seeing your name. Think about that.”

She threw her napkin into her plate, turned, and waddled down the hall to their bedroom as fast as a woman thirty-two weeks pregnant could move.

A silence fell over the room. The Echo played a country song with a sad twang.

Jenkins looked at Sloane. “She’ll be okay,” he said.

“Let’s table this discussion for tonight,” Sloane said. “It’s late and we’re all tired. Let’s talk again tomorrow, in my office, just the three of us. She’s been through a lot these past few days. We all have.” He paused, and then said, “She has a point though. You’re home and you’re safe. It might be best in this instance to let a sleeping dog lie.”

It might be, Jenkins thought, except he had no way to be certain the dog was actually asleep, and not just waiting for another chance to bite.



Jenkins walked past framed photographs of Jake with Sloane and Tina at various points in their lives, before Tina’s death. It gave him pause. He looked back to the kitchen. Sloane had turned off the lights and gone up to bed, alone. No one waited in his room for him and hadn’t for several years. It made Jenkins think of the decades he had lived alone on his Camano farm, not even realizing the depths of his loneliness. Alex had changed that. CJ too. He had a good life now, a life he never imagined possible during all those years he’d spent alone. He didn’t want to lose what he had, but he also couldn’t walk away from the people who’d risked so much to keep him alive.

Jenkins pushed open the door to their temporary bedroom with some trepidation. He knew what he’d put Alex through, and he didn’t want to be a continual source of worry and concern. He knew the strain that could put on her and on the baby.

A low-watt glow emanated from the bedside lamp. Alex walked in from the adjoining bathroom dressed in her pajamas, her stomach protruding beneath the pale-blue fabric. She eyed him, shook her head, then pulled down the sheets and the comforter and climbed into bed without uttering a word. This was not going to be easy.

“I’m sorry,” he said, lingering in the doorway. “I didn’t want it to be this way.”

“Really? What did you think was going to happen?”

“I thought I could save those women, as was represented to me.”

“I suppose paying the company bills had nothing to do with it?”

“Of course it did,” he said.

“Of course,” she said. “So why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know I couldn’t, Alex.”

“I’m not talking about the operation, Charlie. I’m talking about the extent of CJ Security’s financial problems—our company’s problems—or did you forget that I am also an owner?”

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you,” he said.

“Oh? And this is better?”

He took another breath, trying to remain calm, not wanting their argument to escalate again and further stress her. “I didn’t want to worry you and risk you having complications.”