Saving Faith By: David Baldacci

your principal handler?”

“I don’t know his name,” Faith said coldly.

“Do you have a phone number?”

“It wouldn’t do any good. I doubt he’d be able to take the call

now.”

Lee eyed her dubiously. “Are you telling me the dead guy back there is

your only contact?”

“That’s it.” Faith told this lie with a completely straight face.

“The guy was your handler and he never bothered to tell you his name?

That’s not exactly textbook FBI.”

“Sorry, that’s all I know.”

“Is that right? Well, let me tell you what I know. I saw you at that

cottage three other times with a woman. A tall brunette. What, did

you sit around calling her Agent X?” He leaned right into her face.

“Bullshit Rule Number One: Make damn sure the person you’re lying to

can’t prove same.” He hooked an arm around hers. “Let’s go.”

“You know, Mr. Adams, you have a problem you may not have thought

about.”

“Is that right? Care to share it?”

“What exactly are you going to tell the FBI when you bring me in?”

“I don’t know, how about the truth?”

“Okay. Let’s look at the truth. You were following me because someone

you don’t know and can’t identify instructed you to. Which means we

only have your word for that. You were able to follow me even though

the FBI assured me no one could. You were in that house tonight. Your

face is on the tape. An FBI agent is dead. You fired your gun. You

say you shot the other man, but you have no way to prove another man

was even there. So the proven facts are we have you at the house and

me at the house. You fired your gun and an FBI agent is dead.”

“The ammo that killed that guy is not something my pistol happens to

chamber,” he said angrily, releasing her arm.

“So you threw the other gun away.”

“Why would I snatch you from the place, then? If I was the shooter,

why wouldn’t I have killed you back there?”

“I’m not saying what I think, Mr. Adams. I’m just suggesting to you

that the FBI might suspect you. I suppose if there’s nothing in your

past to make them suspicious, the FBI might believe you.” She added

offhandedly, “They’ll probably just investigate you for a year and then

drop it if nothing turns up.”

Lee scowled at her. His recent past was squeaky clean. Going back a

little further, the waters got a little murkier. When he was first

starting out as a PI, he had done some things he would never even

consider doing now. Not illegal, but still hard to explain to

straightlaced federal agents.

And then there was the restraining order his ex had gotten right before

Lucky Eddie had struck patent gold. Claimed Lee was stalking her, was

perhaps violent. Lee would have become violent if he had gotten hold

of the little shit. Every time Lee thought about the bruises on his

daughter’s arms and cheek when he had made an unexpected visit to their

rat-trap apartment he almost had a stroke. Trish claimed Renee had

fallen down the stairs. Stood there and lied to his face, when Lee

could see the imprint of what he knew was a knuckle against his

daughter’s soft skin. He had taken a crowbar to Eddie’s car and

would’ve taken one to Eddie if the guy hadn’t locked himself in the

bathroom and called the cops.

So did he really want the FBI snooping around his life for the next

twelve months? On the other hand, if he let the woman walk away and

the Feds tracked him down, then where would he be? Everywhere he

turned, he ran into a nest of snakes.

Faith spoke in a pleasant tone. “Do you want to drop me at the

Washington Field Office? They’re at Fourth and F Streets.”

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point,” Lee said hotly. “But I didn’t

ask for this crap to be dropped in my lap.”

“And I didn’t ask for you to become involved in this either. But ..

“But what?”

“But if you weren’t there tonight, I wouldn’t be alive right now. I’m

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