INFORMANT by Ava Archer Payne Read Free Book Online

ask me how it’s possible for him to get sexier every time I see him. It just happens.
    “Everything all right?” he asks.
    “Peachy.” I slide onto the vinyl bench across from him. “I got a ninety-four on last week’s quiz. How’d you do?”
    He scowls at me. Apparently sarcasm is not appreciated. “I meant, how’s it going with Ricco.”
    So he’s just assuming that I’m in. A big assumption. But since it’s also true, I can’t act offended.
    “So far… nothing,” I admit.
    Beckett shrugs. “He’ll come around. Don’t be afraid to make the first move if you need to. Keep it subtle, though. Maybe a study session or something like that.”
    Perfect. Beckett’s my new dating coach. Just what I wanted.
    I glance away and my gaze falls on Sarah. She’s sipping tea and gazing out the window, studying the faces of anyone who comes near the restaurant. Although she looks like just another college student, there’s an alertness to her stance that I don’t miss. I imagine what might happen if Ricco were to approach the restaurant. She’d signal Beckett. He’d disappear through the kitchen, exiting out the back alley. Before I could blink, she’d be sitting in his place, chatting away, biology textbook open and notes spread out over the table. A perfectly orchestrated DEA dance.
    That thought spins into another. I wonder how much of the world is real, and how much is simply fabricated to look real. Federal agents—CIA, FBI, DEA—placed among us as bus drivers, bartenders, college students, all busily operating on an entirely different level, responding to entirely different cues. Sort of like ants, with miles of hidden, linking tunnels connected beneath the surface.
    “Why me?” I ask. “Why not Sarah?”
    He shakes his head. “She might look young, but she’s thirty. She’s married with two kids. It’d be too hard to construct a plausible backstory. Too many holes if somebody decided to check up on her.”
    His words are telling. I get a chill, immediately followed by a flash of red hot anger. I’m pissed, but I manage to suppress it. I look at him long and hard. “You checked up on me?”
    To his credit, Beckett doesn’t deny it. “We had to.”
    “What’d you find out?”
    “The usual stuff. Family connections, work and school history. No incidents of drug or alcohol abuse, no run-ins with the law. You’re clean. You’re exactly what you say you are: a local girl working her way through college.” He cocks his head, studying me curiously. “It’s funny, though…”
    “What?”
    “You’re also smart as hell. Straight A’s, off-the-chart test scores. You could have applied to any school you wanted. Stanford, for example. I bet you would have gotten a full ride. So why San Francisco State?”
    I don’t expect this. I’m suddenly flustered, embarrassed. Yeah, Stanford was a dream. But then Jess got pregnant and my mom needed help paying rent. “It wasn’t just about me,” I say. “Sometimes the choices we make go deeper than that. Especially when family’s involved.”
    For some reason, that strikes a nerve. Beckett clenches his jaw and nods once. He can’t seem to hold my gaze. I think of the photo of Ricco, stretched out on a hospital bed. For just an instant, Beckett radiates the same shattered pain. What’s his backstory, I wonder. What happened in his family to send him on the road he’s on now? I ask him directly.
    He looks at me, obviously surprised by my perception. Then he gives a slow smile and shakes his head. “Christ,” he says, “I’m gonna have to remember just how smart you are.”
    That’s not an answer, but clearly it’s all I’m going to get. He holds out his hand. “Can I see your phone?”
    I pass it over and watch as he adds himself as a contact. When I check the name, I notice he’s not Beckett, Thomas, or even Smith.
    “ Jane?” I quirk a brow at him.
    “It’s safer that way—in case your phone is ever compromised.”
    Compromised?