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TRUTH REVEALED
An ESI Novel

CEARA NOBLES
LEGACY EXPOSED
Copyright © 2020 Ceara Nobles.

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be
used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events
and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

For information contact :

Ceara Nobles
http://www.cearanobles.com

Cover design by Germancreative © 2020 Ceara Nobles

Book Formatting by Derek Murphy @Creativindie

First Edition: 2020

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 ALSO BY

CEARA NOBLES

THE ESI SERIES

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To my family - those related by blood, marriage, and choice. Thanks for all
you do!
 PROLOGUE
Six Years Ago…
 Paris in July was the last place Emmett wanted to be.
The afternoon air was sticky hot and smelled like body odor and
pastries. Place de la Bastille was packed with tourists; their cameras
flashed in the shade cast by the surrounding buildings. A large group of
protesters marched on the opposite side of the square, their lilted French
chants echoing in the air as their hand-written signs bobbed above the
crowds’ heads.
Emmett leaned against a brick wall outside of a patisserie. Behind the
sunglasses, his eyes darted from face to face, memorizing everything.
The smell of chocolate wafted through the open door next to him. His
mouth watered, but he ignored it.
He glanced at his watch. Where was she? It was ten minutes past the
hour. He’d been very specific in his instructions. Three o’clock on the dot
–
Who was he kidding? She’d never been on time since the day he met
her.
Emmett shifted, scanning the crowd around him in annoyance.
Those pastries smelled amazing. When she deigned to show up, she
would probably love to share one with him. The thought almost made his
lips twitch into a smile as he pushed away from the wall.
Just one…
His phone buzzed. Emmett pulled it out of his pocket.
A text lit up his screen.
I’m here. Meet me around the corner.
Finally. Emmett cast one last look at the patisserie and then weaved his
way through the crowd toward the alleyway around the corner. Nobody
appeared to follow him.
Good.
He removed his sunglasses and slid them into his pocket. Under his
shirt, he felt the comforting weight of his gun. He’d been sternly
instructed not to use it. Paris was too hot after the attack the week before.
It was vital that he avoid drawing attention to himself.
He didn’t mind. He hadn’t slept in a week; he could use the break.
A lunch date with the beautiful woman who should be waiting at the
end of the alley would be a good start.
Where was she?
 Emmett stopped. The skin on the back of his neck prickled.
The alleyway was empty.
Some sixth sense – one that had saved his life many times before –
prompted Emmett to reach for his gun.
A black van squealed to a stop ahead of him, blocking the alley’s exit.
The door slid open and three men in masks piled out. Metal glinted in the
afternoon sunlight.
They had guns.
Emmett dove behind a trash bin just in time to hear the spray of
bullets hit the metal. The men shouted at each other, but it didn’t sound
like French. Thanks to the buzzing in Emmett’s head, he couldn’t interpret
what language it was.
Screams sounded from the crowded square behind him. Terrified
people would come running down the alley any second.
He needed to end this quickly, before innocent people got hurt.
During a second’s break in the spray of bullets, Emmett peeked over
the metal and took several shots. A grunt sounded as one of them went
down, but he was forced to take cover again when the remaining two men
started shooting.
Emmett muttered a curse. His cover had remained solid for months
now. How had they found him?
She could be turning the corner any second. If she walked in the
middle of this, she was likely to get shot.
Or worse… Taken.
It was time to call for backup.
Emmett returned a few more bullets, forcing the men in the alleyway
entrance to scatter for cover. He pulled out his phone. One quick call and
backup would be minutes away. He was confident he could hold them off
for that long.
Amazingly, nobody had come running into the bullets’ path yet.
Maybe they were smart enough to run the other direction –
White hot pain shot through his body.
Emmett slammed back against the dumpster. His phone clattered to the
ground.
He looked down in shock at his left shoulder, then up at the men
approaching from the opposite end of the alley.
 They were less than ten yards from him, but he could already tell the
bullet had missed his heart.
Terrible shot.
They would regret not killing him on the first try.
Emmett swung his gun up, but it was yanked from his hand before he
could get off a shot.
He was surrounded.
No wonder he hadn’t seen any innocent people running this direction.
The men had blocked off both ends of the alley after Emmett entered.
The men yelled in that strange language again – it definitely wasn’t
French. What was it?
One man – the one who had taken Emmett’s gun – shoved him to the
ground.
Were they going to shoot him from behind? That was just low.
Emmett blinked at the shattered screen of his cell phone, just inches
from his face.
Shock was already starting to set in. His brain wasn’t moving nearly
fast enough.
Was she here yet? Had she seen what happened and wisely ran away?
Hopefully she was safe.
Emmett grunted as his hands were yanked behind his back and bound
together.
Finally, reality caught up with him.
He hadn’t told his handler where he’d be today – after all, he deserved
a little R&R after the week he’d had.
Nobody knew his location.
How had these men found him?
She couldn’t have betrayed him. They’d been through too much
together.
But the U.S. government had failed her… failed both of them. She was
angry, like he was.
She was a willowy brunette with a penchant for breaking the rules.
Apparently, now she had broken the biggest one of all and revealed his
identity to the enemy.
The men hauled Emmett to his feet and shoved him forward. He barely
felt the shock of pain as they threw him into the back of the van and sped
away.
Her beautiful, treacherous face flashed in his mind’s eye.
Ryann. She would pay for this.
 CHAPTER 1

Emmett whacked his head on the inside of the kitchen cupboard for
the hundredth time. With a curse, he maneuvered his wide shoulders and
shimmied out from underneath the sink.
He was too old to be hunched over like this all day. His thirty-two-
year-old body would hate him tomorrow.
“Can’t you just put some plumbing tape on there and call it a day?”
Owen asked.
“No.” Emmett shined his flashlight under the sink, glaring at the
corroded leaky pipe. “I need a wrench.”
Owen took an obnoxiously loud bite of an apple and chewed
thoughtfully. “Seems like the easier solution. I’ve got some bright green
duct tape in the –”
Emmett turned his stony gaze on his youngest brother.
Owen kept a straight face, but the corners of his green eyes crinkled, a
dead giveaway that he was annoying Emmett on purpose. His favorite
pastime. What a pain in the –
“How’s it going, boys?”
Emmett glanced at the doorway, immediately softening his expression.
“Fine, Mom,” he said. “Owen was just going to run to the hardware store
and find me a replacement pipe. This one’s corroded.”
“I’m telling you, a little duct tape will do the trick.”
“And I’m telling you that duct tape won’t fix anything,” Emmett said
through clenched teeth. “Do it right or don’t do it at all.”
 “Your motto,” Owen said, rolling his eyes. He slid off the counter and
plopped a kiss on their mother’s cheek. “I’ll be back.”
Mary smiled at him. “Be careful. Where’s Abby?”
Owen’s face lit up in a soppy grin. “She’s over at Sarah’s. They’re
going over wedding details.”
“Ah, only a few more months. I can’t believe three out of four of you
kids are going to be married.”
“That’s as good as you’re going to get, Mom. There’s no hope for
grouchy-pants over there.”
Emmett held up his middle finger. A dull twinge radiated from his left
shoulder with the movement, but he ignored it. After years of “healing,”
the pain was an old friend to him now. His body had survived something
that still haunted his nightmares, but he would gladly ache for the rest of
his life in exchange for the life he’d built for himself and his family.
The front door closed behind Owen. Emmett wiped his hands on a dish
towel and glanced at his mother.
Mary stood in the kitchen entrance. She was turned so he could only
see her profile, tugging on a sweater that was far too pressed to be
considered casual. She smoothed her light brown hair, now streaked with
gray, and frowned at her lined face in the mirror.
Emmett’s eyes narrowed. “Mom, what are you doing?”
“Mm?” Mary glanced over at him, cheeks turning bright pink.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
She glanced down. “What do you mean? This is the way I always
dress.”
Emmett folded his arms over his chest and stared her down. The
weight of his gaze was enough to make anyone cave and tell him the
truth, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.
Since his father’s passing a few years before, Emmett had taken over as
man of the house and he took the role very seriously. It was his
responsibility to watch over and protect his family – his father’s final
request before he lost his battle with cancer.
Protecting the Erickson family was not an easy feat – thanks to their
company, Erickson Security International, and their penchant for helping
those in need, the siblings had found themselves in a number of sticky
situations over the years. Attempted murders, kidnappings, secret
government organizations… You name it, and the Ericksons had faced it.
It was enough to make Emmett go gray, if he ever let his hair grow
long enough to see it.
For the past year, since Owen met his soon-to-be-wife Abby and saved
her from a secret government organization, things had been quiet.
His other brother, Chance, was settling into life as a family of three
with his wife, Bellamy, and their sweet little girl, Violet. She was almost
two years old now and she looked just like her mother. Chance was the
founder of ESI, but he didn’t take much of a role there anymore; he
preferred to be home with his family, and Emmett didn’t blame him. He
and Bellamy had faced a mountain of obstacles to be together.
Emmett’s only sister and Owen’s twin, Sarah, was married to Emmett’s
team lead and right-hand man, Roman. They had a little boy, Asher, who
was about the same age as Violet. Sarah and Roman refused to give up
their places on the ESI team, so Asher spent a lot of time at Bellamy’s
when they were working. He and Violet were best friends.
For the first time in a long time, the Ericksons were happy. Life was
peaceful, mundane. Everything it should be.
So why was his mother shifting guiltily?
Mary finally caved under the weight of his gaze and tugged at her
sweater again. “I have a date tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
She smiled. “His name is Thomas Malcolm. He’s a surgeon at Island
Hospital.”
If Emmett clenched the edge of the counter any harder, the marble
might crack. He forced a tight smile. “Oh? Where did you meet Dr.
Malcolm?”
Mary blushed. “On a dating site.”
“A dating…?” He thought his head might explode. “Mom, those sites
are not safe. Do you know how many phishing scams take place there?
Not to mention the psychotic men who – “
Mary held up a hand. “Thank you, son, but Thomas is neither of those
things. We’ve met for coffee once already. He’s very nice.”
“You’ve already met him? Did you tell anyone you were going?”
 “No, Emmett, I did not.” Mary’s expression turned stern. “I’m your
mother, so I hardly need to report to you kids about my activities.”
“I’d like to know if my mother is meeting with a stranger who could be
a danger to her.”
“And I’d like you to settle down and get married, but we don’t always
get what we want.”
Emmett scowled, ignoring the twinge of pain in his heart and the flash
of a woman’s face in his memory. He wasn’t marriage material. Women
who got too close to him met an untimely end, but his mother didn’t know
that. How could she?
He’d never told her. And he never would.
“Where are you going on your date tonight?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Thomas planned it.”
“Mom – “
Mary gave him the Mom Look, the one that said, Stop talking if you
want to live to see another day.
Emmett shut up.
“I appreciate your concern.” Mary stepped forward, expression
softening, and rested a hand on Emmett’s cheek. “I know it comes from a
place of love, but I need you to trust me. I’m taking precautions, but I
really like this man. I haven’t felt this way since your father… Well, you
know. I want to see where this goes.”
His father. Paul Erickson.
He had been a great man with a big heart, and he and Mary had been
deeply in love. Emmett had never seen a marriage like theirs. It was the
stuff of fairytales, minus the fairytale ending.
Emmett was a logical man, and he knew the odds of Mary finding
another man like his father.
The odds were more in favor of this Dr. Malcolm being a dirtbag.
“I understand,” Emmett said aloud. “I just worry about you.”
Mary smiled. “I know you do, and I love you for it. I’ll bring my pepper
spray, just in case, but I won’t need it. Thomas was a perfect gentleman
when we went out for coffee.”
Emmett clenched his jaw as he smiled. “All right.”
Mary patted his cheek and stepped away as her phone rang. She broke
into a giddy smile. “Oh, that’s him. Hi, Thomas.”
 Emmett watched her walk out of the kitchen. He scowled as her
laughter drifted back to him from the living room. She sounded like a
teenage girl.
Dr. Thomas Malcolm.
He committed the name to memory as he closed the cupboard
underneath the sink and put his tools away.
Everyone had something to hide, and Emmett would find this guy’s
dirty laundry. Only then would he determine if Dr. Malcolm was a fitting
match for his mother.
 CHAPTER 2
ESI headquarters had seen a lot of progress in the few years since
Chance and Emmett had founded the company.
On the outside, it was a historic building in downtown La Conner, but
the inside was sleek and modern. A large empty space had been
transformed into a base of operations for the team, including an informal
meeting area, offices, a conference room, and even sleeping quarters. Most
of the team spent their time on the couches in the informal meeting area,
watching TV or playing Foosball at the table that Owen brought in while
Emmett was out of the country on an assignment a few months before.
Emmett entered the office at five a.m. He disarmed the alarm, then
armed it again once he was inside. He took his daily walk around the
perimeter, checking doors and windows for any sign of entry. He’d given
the team a long weekend for Memorial Day, so the building was empty.
They weren’t due for the briefing until seven, so Emmett had a couple
hours to prepare.
He unlocked his office door and slipped inside, scanning the area for
anything that seemed out of order. The large mahogany desk with only his
closed laptop on it, his desk chair tucked neatly underneath. The glass
shelves on the walls, sparsely decorated with a few books and the medal
he received for his military service. The two chairs facing his desk,
positioned at an exact 45-degree angle.
It was just as he’d left it.
Emmett settled behind his desk with a sigh and opened his laptop.
It felt good to be back at work. Chance had hosted a family barbeque
for Memorial Day and they visited their father’s grave, but Emmett had
spent most of the weekend at Mary’s house, working on various projects
she needed done. Idle hands led to idle thoughts, which led to flashbacks,
so Emmett liked to stay busy. Mary only had so many projects, though,
and the revelation about Dr. Malcolm had thrown a wrench into things.
Emmett had spent all night brooding about his mother’s new
relationship. Luckily, she hadn’t invited Dr. Malcolm to their family
barbeque, so things couldn’t be that serious yet.
If he was going to end this, he needed to do it while it was still young.
Then his mother wouldn’t be too heartbroken and she could move on
quickly.
By seven a.m., Emmett could hear the rumbling of conversation and
laughter through his cracked office door. He closed his laptop and brought
it with him out into the informal meeting area.
The team – minus Chance – was all there, bright-eyed and ready to get
to work.
Dominick sat in an armchair in the corner, booted feet on the coffee
table, a cowboy hat in his lap. Cameron sat next to him, dark and brooding
as always, using a whetstone to sharpen a wicked-looking blade. Owen
had Sarah’s son, Asher, on his shoulders, jumping around like an idiot to
elicit giggles from the toddler. Sarah and Roman sat together on the small
couch, smiling and watching Owen and Asher.
Everyone turned to look at Emmett as he entered. He nodded a
greeting and waited until Owen returned Asher to Sarah’s lap and seated
himself before he spoke.
“Good morning. I hope you enjoyed your long weekend, because it’s
time to get back to work.”
“Hear, hear,” Dominick drawled. “What’s on the docket?”
Emmett nodded at Owen to turn on the projector and plugged his
laptop in. As the machine warmed up, a photo of an older man appeared
on the screen.
“Isn’t that Senator Bill Goodman, from New York?” Sarah asked. “I
recognize him from the news.”
“He supports that bill against the CIA,” Roman said. “Is he our target?”
“Not exactly,” Emmett said. “Senator Goodman is the potential victim.
The government has intercepted chatter through terrorist channels that
his life may be in danger. They have requested that we provide a security
detail for the good senator until they can assess and neutralize the threat.”
 “Terrorists want to off the guy who’s trying to shut down the CIA?
That doesn’t jive.” Owen pulled out a piece of gum from his pocket and
popped it into his mouth.
“He’s not trying to shut down the CIA,” Sarah said. “He’s trying to
expose the shady stuff they’ve been doing. He thinks there’s corruption
and he wants to find it.”
“The CIA is the definition of shady,” Owen replied, raising an eyebrow.
“That’s kind of in their job description.”
“Their motives aren’t our concern,” Emmett interrupted. “That’s for the
CIA to determine. Our job is to protect the senator and we’ll do it
effectively, just like we always do. Understood?”
A chorus of, “Yes, sir,” filled the room.
“Good.” Emmett brought up another picture on the screen. It was a
blueprint of a building. “This is Renwick Gallery, an event venue in
Washington, DC. Senator Goodman will be attending a charity event there
in a few weeks. It’s his biggest public appearance on the schedule, so it’s a
prime opportunity for an attempt on his life. Our job is to secure this area
and ensure that nothing happens to him during this event. It’s going to be
a big job, so we’ll need all hands on deck for the next few weeks. I’ve
prepared assignments for each of you, so take a look at your folders and
let me know if you have any questions.”
As the team moved to leave, Emmett nodded at Owen to follow him.
His youngest brother followed him down the hall and into his office
without complaint. Emmett closed the door behind them and gestured for
Owen to take a seat.
“What’s up, boss?” Owen asked, slouching into the armchair. The force
turned the chair slightly so it was no longer at a 45-degree angle.
“There’s something else I’d like you to do.” Emmett placed his laptop
back on his desk in its designated spot. “What do you know about Dr.
Thomas Malcolm?”
“Mom’s new beau?” Owen snorted. “Let me guess. You want me to
investigate him.”
Emmett’s eyes narrowed. “Am I that predictable?”
“Hate to break it to you,” Owen said. His eyes twinkled. “Want me to
dig up his deepest, darkest secrets and expose him for the scumbag he is?”
“That’s exactly what I want you to do.”
“Done and done. But you know, if Mom finds out…”
 “She might be angry, but she’ll understand.”
Owen smirked. “I was going to say she might kill you, but that works
too.”
“I’m just looking out for her safety.” Emmett leaned back in his chair.
“If he has nothing to hide, then he has nothing to worry about.”
“Everyone has something to hide. Isn’t that what you always say?”
“Yep.” Emmett’s lips twitched. “Anything else?”
“Nope.” Owen stood and raised an eyebrow at Emmett. “You know,
you’re so busy managing everyone else’s life. You might want to consider
getting one yourself.”
Emmett scowled as Owen left his office and shut the door. After a
moment of silence, Emmett stood and circled around to the other side of
his desk. He adjusted Owen’s chair back to its 45-degree angle, then sat
down again.
He had a life. He took care of his family and ESI, and both were
thriving. He was exactly where he should be.
Why, then, did Owen’s words make him feel… uncomfortable?

*****

Emmett spent the rest of the day going over details of the operation
with various members of the ESI team. He and Roman mapped out
Renwick Gallery, discussing entry and vantage points as well as possible
infiltration methods. They created an action plan for each member of the
team to utilize their skills to protect Senator Goodman.
By the end of the day, Emmett felt good about their progress. As
everyone else left to go home, Emmett unlocked a drawer in his desk and
pulled out an encrypted cell phone. It only rang once before Ben
Matthews picked up.
“Matthews.”
“Ben, it’s Emmett.”
“Emmett.” Ben’s voice warmed. “It’s good to hear your voice. How are
you? How’s the family?”
“The family is great.” Emmett allowed a small smile. He liked Ben. He
knew things about Emmett that no one else did. He was the one person
Emmett could talk to about the past. “I want to go over details about
Senator Goodman’s protection.”
 “It’s always business with you, isn’t it?” Ben chuckled. “All right. I
hope you know I’m taking a big risk by hiring your team for this task. If it
fails, Gates will have my head in a noose before I can take my next
breath.”
“I appreciate you taking a chance on us. ESI won’t let you down. Gates
still as strict as ever?”
“Unfortunately. I know you want to be him when you grow up, but it
is not fun to be a target in his sights. He’s had a vendetta against me ever
since Paris. It’s a miracle I’ve survived this long.”
The memory felt like a bucket of ice water over Emmett’s head. His
hands shook a little, but he clenched them into fists until they steadied.
“Paris wasn’t your fault.”
“I know that and you know that, but tell it to Gates. He’s the director
now, so he’s got even more power to off me. He’s just looking for an
excuse to do it.” Ben cleared his throat. “Anyway. No more sad stories.
Let’s hear what you’ve got on Goodman.”
Emmett spent the next couple hours hashing out details with Ben.
They narrowed down the action plan until Emmett had a clear vision of
how the operation would play out and what each team member’s role
would be. With that solved, he hung up the phone and sat back in his
chair with a sigh.
It was almost eight o’clock. Probably time to head home.
As he closed up shop, he received a text from Owen.
Mary was going on another date with Dr. Malcolm tonight.
Apparently, they were having a late dinner at a nice restaurant just down
the street from ESI headquarters. It was only a five-minute walk.
Emmett locked the office and stood on the street, hands in his pockets,
debating his options.
A respectful, trusting son would let his mother go on her date without
interference.
Trust wasn’t something that Emmett gave freely. It was something to
be earned, and this man hadn’t earned it yet.
Emmett started down the street in the direction of the restaurant.
CHAPTER 3
 The Oyster & Thistle Restaurant was the closest thing La Conner had
to fine dining. It was an older building with weathered wooden shingles
and green trim. Thanks to the big windows in front, Emmett could linger
outside and casually keep an eye on the dining room where his mother
and Dr. Thomas Malcolm sat.
By all appearances, Thomas Malcolm seemed unassuming. He was a
tall man with graying brown hair and glasses. He and Mary talked and
laughed while they waited for their dinner to arrive.
But appearances could be deceiving. Emmett watched his eyes, his
hands, the way he moved while he talked to Mary. Years of experience and
training had taught him to pick out the small mannerisms that pointed to
personality disorders. If this man was narcissistic, psychotic, or manic,
Mary may not see the signs before she got hurt.
It was hard to tell from a distance, but the man seemed normal.
Nevertheless, Emmett’s skin prickled. Something wasn’t right, but he
couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Was it the way Dr. Malcolm was so
interested in what Mary had to say? Or was it the way he reached forward
and held her hand, as if they were already an item?
When he leaned forward to kiss her over the table, Emmett cursed.
Before he could stop himself, he was inside the restaurant and
standing next to his mother.
Mary glanced up at him, shocked, and moved to stand. “Emmett, what
are you doing here?”
Emmett ignored her. He focused his heavy gaze on Dr. Thomas
Malcolm, who didn’t look pleased at his interruption. “I’m Emmett
Erickson, Mary’s oldest son.” Emmett stuck out his hand. “And you are?”
Dr. Malcolm smiled tightly and shook Emmett’s hand. He had a firm
grip. “Mary’s told me so much about you. I’m Dr. Thomas Malcolm. Nice
to finally meet you.”
“A doctor. Hmm. My mother said you’re a surgeon. What type?”
“Heart surgeon,” he said. “Over at Island Hospital.”
“Charming.” Emmett gave the man a once-over. He wasn’t quite as tall
as Emmett was, and although he appeared fit, he definitely didn’t have the
muscle mass to indicate that he worked out often. “I’m sure my mother
told you what I do, so I’ll get right to the point. If you have anything to
hide, anything at all, I will find it.”
“Emmett,” Mary gasped from behind him.
 “And if you hurt my mother in any way, there will be nowhere you can
run. Understood?”
Thomas Malcolm’s eyes hardened. “I assure you – “
“Emmett!” Mary’s voice was sharp. She grabbed Emmett’s arm. “Please
excuse us for a moment, Thomas.”
Emmett narrowed his eyes, never breaking the man’s gaze as he
allowed his mother to tow him away. He didn’t turn to face her until they
were out of sight near the front door of the restaurant.
Mary’s cheeks were splotchy red. She let go of Emmett’s arm and
looked him in the eye. “I have never been so embarrassed,” she said in a
voice like a thousand daggers. “That man was kind enough to take me to
dinner. He has been a perfect gentleman. I did not raise you to treat
another person that way.”
“I understand you’re angry, but – “
“Oh, son, I’m not angry,” Mary said. “I’m furious. You will apologize to
Thomas and promise not to bother him again. Come on, let’s go.”
Emmett didn’t move. “I’m trying to protect you. You don’t even know
him. How can you be sure that he’s a good person?”
“How can I assume he’s not without even giving him a chance?” Mary
turned to look at him, and suddenly she just looked tired. “I can’t begin to
know what you’ve been through, honey, but you have to know that this
isn’t right. I know you’re worried, but this isn’t the way to express it. I
raised my son to do better. Until you can honor that, I don’t know what to
say to you.”
She left Emmett standing at the entrance to the restaurant, feeling like
a complete fool.

*****

By the time Emmett got home, it was close to ten o’clock. His house sat
just outside of town. It wasn’t the Fort Knox that Chance had built, but it
was comfortable. Emmett didn’t bother with a perimeter alarm system, but
he did have one on the house itself. It helped him rest easier at night,
knowing he’d have some warning if someone tried to ambush him.
Dimly, he acknowledged how outlandish that line of thinking was.
Most people didn’t worry about being ambushed in the middle of the
night. Most people didn’t check their doors and windows multiple times a
day or check for tails while they drove.
Most people hadn’t been kidnapped and tortured for days by enemies
of the government.
Paris had really messed him up.
 Maybe Mary was right. His behavior wasn’t normal, but it was part of
him now. He took care of his family. He looked out for their safety. It was
his responsibility to make sure nothing happened to them.
Take care of them, son. They need you.
Those were the last words his father spoke to Emmett before he passed
away.
If Emmett didn’t look out for them, who would?
He locked his truck and walked up the front steps, shoulders heavy
with the weight of the world. It was a familiar feeling; his whole life had
been a series of heavy burdens and responsibilities. Most of the time, he
carried them without complaint, but lately they felt as if they were going
to crush him.
Emmett was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice
that his porch light was off. He didn’t catch the movement in the shadowy
alcove near his front door.
Something hard slammed into his nose.
Emmett staggered back. His instincts kicked in and he brought his
hands up to defend himself against his attacker. He blinked hard, trying to
see through the haze of tears radiating from the pain in his nose.
No further blows came.
A foot swept his legs out from underneath him and he found himself
flat on his back, staring at the extinguished porch light.
Emmett laid still, shaking his head like he was dazed. When his
attacker stepped close, he grabbed the man’s ankles and brought his feet
up, throwing the man over his head. He heard a soft “whoomph” as his
attacker landed on his back a few feet away. Before he could move,
Emmett had him pinned to the ground.
But there was a big problem.
The body underneath Emmett was definitely not a him.
“Hey there, handsome,” a soft voice gasped. “I was going to say you’ve
gotten rusty, but that’s clearly not the case.”
Emmett froze. He knew that voice. But it was impossible.
She was supposed to be dead.
He let go and swiped a hand over his eyes, blinking down at the
woman underneath him.
“Ryann?”
 CHAPTER 4
The Eiffel Tower glittered in the bright afternoon sunlight. Voices and
laughter echoed across the square and the sweet perfume of flowers
permeated in the air.
Emmett never thought he would like Paris, but he had to admit there was
a kinetic energy here that he appreciated. It was something that he didn’t
experience growing up in La Conner. It was a nice change of pace.
He’d only been stationed here for a week now. Aside from witnessing far
too many tourists getting scammed, he hadn’t seen much action yet.
His handler hadn’t given him much insight into what he should be
looking for. Supposedly, he would know it when he saw it.
Since there wasn’t much else to do, he watched the painters across the
square.
Well, one in particular.
She came every morning wearing the same baggy, paint-stained overalls
and set up an easel. As far as he could tell, she was trying to paint the Eiffel
Tower. She had a great view of it in the square below.
Emmett hadn’t ventured close to see how her paintings turned out, but
judging by the way she dropped the canvas in the trash bin every afternoon
before she left, it couldn’t be good.
But today was different.
Instead of walking toward the street, the woman crossed the square,
canvas underneath her arm.
She walked right up to him.
 For a panicked moment, Emmett wondered if he should run. But why? He
was a casual onlooker – as far as she knew – with no reason to be wary of
her.
“Hi,” she said. “I can’t help but notice that you’ve been watching me.”
American accent. A tourist?
“No, ma’am. Just a museum security guard.” Emmett gestured at the
patch on his chest.
“An American security guard?” She cocked her head to the side. “That’s a
new one.”
“I moved here last year.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” She smiled up at him. “Anyway, I’ve been
trying to get this painting right, but I just can’t manage it. Here. Since you
seemed interested, you can have it.”
She slid the canvas from underneath her arm and held it out to him.
Emmett hesitated, then accepted the canvas. As she handed it to him,
their fingers brushed.
The woman’s expression changed. She yanked her hand back and cradled
it against her chest.
Emmett pretended he didn’t notice her strange reaction. He started to
unwrap the canvas.
“Oh, uh, I’d rather you wait until I’m gone.” She gave him a strained
smile, backing up. “Anyway, nice to meet you. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
Emmett watched her walk away at a fast clip, glancing over her shoulder
several times. Probably to make sure he wasn’t following her.
He didn’t need to. If she was suspicious, he could find her identity easily
enough.
Emmett unwrapped the canvas.
It was a near-perfect rendition of the Eiffel Tower and the square around
it. But the beautiful painting was marred by big red letters.
“PLANNED ATTACK ON EIFFEL TOWER. YOU HAVE TO STOP IT.”

*****

Ryann had pictured their reunion a thousand times over the years.
Sometimes it looked a lot like this, only Emmett tried to kill her when
he realized who she was.
 Years ago, before she realized that what happened in Paris wasn’t his
fault, she tried to kill him. As her pain faded, her daydreams mostly ended
in gooey romance and a few wedding bells.
That was laughable. As if Emmett would ever be the type for romantic
gestures and wedding bells.
Even back then, before the event that changed her forever, back when
they were two kids falling in love in Paris…
Even then, Emmett hadn’t been what her parents would consider
“marriage material.”
Ryann stared up into Emmett’s green eyes. He was straddling her, his
knees on either side of her waist, and even in the darkness, she could see
the shock on his face.
It gave her a little thrill.
“Ryann?” he asked, astonished.
“In the flesh.” She kept her voice upbeat. She couldn’t let him know
how happy she was to see him, or how she wanted to break down in a
crying fit and throw herself into his arms. Despite her current inclinations,
she wasn’t a spoiled princess who needed a man to save her.
As a matter of fact, she had come to save him.
“Can you let me up?” she asked. “You’re kind of heavy.”
Emmett obliged and stepped away while she got to her feet. “You
look…”
“Different?”
“Alive.” His astonishment finally melted away, replaced by that steely
look she remembered. “How are you alive?”
If he only knew. But it would take hours to explain where she’d been
since Paris, and frankly, he probably wouldn’t believe her. Sometimes she
didn’t believe it herself. “It’s a long, boring story. And it’s not why I came.”
Emmett looked her up and down as if he still couldn’t believe she was
standing there. Granted, she looked a bit different from the first time they
met. Back then, she’d had long brown hair and sported overalls as her
daily uniform. Now, her hair was faded blue and she rocked a leather
jacket and boots.
Internally, she had changed just as much – if not more.
Apparently, Emmett didn’t like what he saw. He reached a hand behind
his back where she knew he kept his gun. “How did you find out where I
live?”
Ryann kept her stance relaxed. If she gave him any indication that she
was a threat, he would probably kill her without a second thought. She
wouldn’t blame him, either, based on how they’d left things. “I’ve got my
sources. Look, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to warn you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”
“Not here.” Ryann glanced over her shoulder. “It’s not safe.”
“Then come inside. My house is perfectly safe – “
“Hate to break it to you, but it’s really not. If I found you, what makes
you think others can’t?” Ryann took a step back. “Meet me tomorrow at
noon underneath Rainbow Bridge. Make sure you’re clean before you
come.” She showed him her phone and tapped her ear, hoping he’d get the
message.
Leave your phone and check for bugs. You have listening ears.
Emmett’s eyes narrowed. Finally, he nodded.
He’d always had a good poker face. She couldn’t tell if he was buying
what she was selling. Ryann itched to take off her gloves and touch his
hand so she could know for sure. With most people, she could get away
with that, but Emmett knew better.
He used to know her better than anyone else.
Was that still true?
Ryann backed up another step, keeping her eyes on the hand behind
his back. When he didn’t pull his gun on her, she gave him a nod and
disappeared into the trees.
She could only pray that he decided to meet her.
Both of their lives depended on it.

*****

Emmett didn’t sleep that night. He spent most of his time alternating
between pacing in the study and checking that his doors and windows
were locked.
Ryann. How was she alive?
After his rescue in Paris, Ben had told her she was dead. They had
found her body floating in the Seine shortly after his capture. Her studio
flat had burned to the ground with all her paintings inside.
Her parents had a funeral for her in Ohio. Emmett was still
hospitalized, so he couldn’t be there, but he’d asked Ben to send flowers.
How was she alive?
The answer was obvious. Someone had lied to him.
But who?
Had Ryann faked her death after betraying Emmett to escape the
government and the cell who had kidnapped him?
Or had the CIA lied about her death for some unknown reason?
He wanted to call Ben and ask him, but something made him pause.
As much as it pained him to admit it, if it was the CIA who lied, then
Ben may be involved. Emmett couldn’t trust him or anyone else until he
talked to Ryann.
Finally, at five a.m., it was an acceptable hour to go to the office.
Emmett unlocked his front door, drawing his gun from its holster at his
back, and kept it low to his side. He scanned the area and ducked outside,
unlocking his truck just before he jumped inside. He drove to the office,
attention on his mirrors, but nobody followed him.
With any luck, Owen would be at the office. He was a night owl; most
nights, he came to the office after Abby fell asleep to get his work done.
Emmett didn’t know how he functioned on a couple hours of sleep and
usually it annoyed him, but today he felt a pang of relief when he saw that
the office lights were on when he pulled up.
Emmett hurried inside and locked the door behind him, setting the
alarm for good measure. He walked down the hall and knocked on the
open door to Owen’s office.
Owen was slowly spinning in circles on his office chair. A pair of
oversized headphones covered his ears and candy wrappers littered the
top of his desk. He hadn’t heard Emmett’s knock, but he spotted his
brother on his second rotation.
“Oh, hey,” he said, sliding the headphones off his ears. “Did you just get
here? I would say you’re early, but isn’t this actually a little late for you?”
“Yeah. I had a… rough night.”
Owen yawned and stretched. “I heard about Mom. She’s uber-mad at
you, you know.”
 Emmett blinked. He had almost forgotten about Dr. Thomas Malcolm.
“Uh, yeah. Did you find anything on the doctor?”
Owen shook his head. “That’s why I was here all night, actually. After
your blow-up with Mom, I thought it might be good to see if you even
have a leg to stand on.”
“Do I?”
“Nope. The guy’s practically a saint. He graduated with honors from
Harvard and did his residency at the University of Pittsburgh Medical
Center – which, by the way, is the largest hospital in the world. His
patients love him and he’s got a squeaky clean record. I can’t even find
parking tickets for the guy.”
Emmett cursed. “Of course. I guess I need to apologize to Mom, then.”
“Might be a good idea. She’s rampaging all over the house, so you
might want to do it fast. She probably already wrote you out of her will.”
“Very funny.” Emmett grasped the back of his neck and sighed. “I’ll go
over there later this morning.”
“Good plan.” Owen unwrapped a Milky Way and shoved it in his
mouth, eyeing his brother. “You okay, dude? You look… tired.”
Tired didn’t even begin to describe how Emmett felt.
“I’m fine,” he growled. “Go home and get some rest.”
He unlocked the door to his office and stepped inside. Sitting behind
his desk, he looked around the room. Everything was in its place. He took
a deep breath, allowing his thoughts to settle and process the problems
that lay in front of him.
Dr. Thomas Malcolm wasn’t a serial killer. Emmett might have forever
damaged his relationship with his mother, but at least he knew she was
safe.
Ryann was alive. He didn’t know what her motives were, but he would
find out at their meeting today.
The CIA might have betrayed him. It was a possibility, but there was
no reason to panic until he had proof.
His course of action was obvious. He would go apologize to his mother
this morning, which would eliminate the first problem. Then he would
meet with Ryann at noon and find out how serious the second and third
problems were. Once he knew that, he could devise a new plan of action.
 Things weren’t as bleak as they’d seemed at one o’clock that morning.
It was just another crisis in a long line that he’d faced in the past few
years.
 CHAPTER 5

Ryann stepped out of her apartment building, hefting her easel bag over
one shoulder, and locked the door behind her.
“Good morning.”
She nearly jumped out of her skin. She whipped around.
Emmett Erickson leaned against the brick wall. He wasn’t dressed
in his guard uniform today; just a black T-shirt and jeans.
His expression was anything but friendly.
Ryann forced a bright smile. “Oh, wow. Do you live here too? What
a coincidence.”
His eyebrows lowered. “You know I don’t.”
“How would I know that? I just met you a few days ago.”
He stepped forward, crowding her against the door. “That’s what I’d
like to know.”
Ryann’s spine automatically straightened. “I don’t respond kindly
to threats, buck-o,” she said. “I’d be happy to answer your questions,
but first? Lose the macho posturing.”
Emmett hesitated for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure how to
respond to that. Then he stepped back. He still didn’t look pleased, but
his expression had softened a bit. “I apologize. Let’s start with an
explanation for this.”
He pulled a small photo out of his pocket and handed it to her. It
was a photo of the painting she had given him.
 Ryann smiled faintly. “Not my best work, I’ll admit.”
“How did you know to give it to me?”
“I didn’t. It was a lucky coincidence. I figured since you were a
security guard, you’d give it to the police. I didn’t count on you being
American – “ she paused, watching his face “ – or working for the
Company.”
Emmett’s face went completely blank. “I don’t know what you’re
talking about.”
“Oh, come on. Cut the crap.” Ryann handed the photo back to him.
“Your name is Emmett Erickson. They recruited you out of the SEALs.
You’ve only been here for a few weeks.”
“You’re coming with me.” Emmett grabbed her arm.
A flood of images entered her head. She couldn’t decipher most of
them, but she saw enough to know she was in big trouble.
She’d been so eager to impress him that she’d made a crucial
mistake.
He thought she was working for the terrorists.

*****

It was nearly eleven o’clock by the time Emmett finished his morning
tasks and made it over to his mother’s house. The Erickson family home
sat on the edge of the Skagit River. It was a beautiful house with a
wraparound porch, white picket fence, and blue shutters.
Growing up, Emmett had spent a lot of time playing football with his
father and brothers in the backyard.
“Football is all about teamwork,” his father would say. “The strength of
the team is each individual member, and the strength of each member is
the team.”
Emmett used that saying a lot when he spoke to the ESI team. They
functioned much the same way. Without each individual’s tactical
strengths, their missions would not succeed. Their lives depended on their
ability to function and work together as a team.
Emmett was the quarterback. He could call plays and throw the ball all
day long, but without his team, he’d never win the game.
Emmett opened the front door without knocking. “Mom,” he called.
“You here?”
 “No, she’s not,” Sarah said. She stepped into the hallway. Her blonde
hair hung loose over her shoulders, a rare occurrence. Usually she kept it
pulled back. It made her look softer, but the look on her face was anything
but. She frowned at Emmett like he had kicked her favorite puppy.
Emmett frowned back at her. “Where is she?”
“We sent her out for a bit. Come with me.” Sarah turned and walked
into the kitchen.
Warning bells started going off in Emmett’s head. He thought about
turning around and walking out of the house, but he needed to speak to
his mother. With a soft curse, he followed Sarah into the kitchen.
Chance and Owen sat at the kitchen table. Sarah ducked her head and
sat between them.
“Sit down,” Chance said.
Emmett looked at each of his siblings’ faces. “What’s this about?”
“It’s time we talked about Mom,” Sarah said.
Emmett scowled. “This isn’t something for us to discuss. I’ll talk to
Mom myself.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now,” Chance said. “Sit, Emmett.”
What was this, some kind of intervention? Emmett didn’t have time to
listen to his siblings’ complaints. He loved them, but sometimes they acted
like gossipy old hens.
But he also knew they wouldn’t leave him alone until they said their
piece.
He yanked out a chair and sat down hard. The wood creaked and
groaned under his weight. “All right, let’s get this over with. Say what you
want to say.”
“Dad has been gone for a while now,” Chance said. As the second
oldest brother, he shared some of the burden of responsibility with
Emmett, but he had spent many years chasing his now-wife Bellamy
across the country. He’d been out of the loop for a long time before their
father died. “We all miss him, but Mom has decided to move on. We need
to support her in that decision.”
“Mom can move on if she wants,” Emmett said. “That’s fine. But I’m
not going to let her date strangers who could try to take advantage of her.
I just want to – “
“Protect her,” Sarah finished for him. “We know the drill.”
 “There’s a limit to that,” Chance said. “You can’t go around harassing –
“
“I didn’t harass anyone. I just introduced myself to the man.”
Chance gave him a look that said yeah, right. “Either way, it
embarrassed Mom. You have to let her make her own decisions and her
own mistakes – “
“There’s no way in hell that I’m going to stand by while she is taken
advantage of – “
Owen slammed a hand down on the table. Emmett and Chance jumped
and stared at him, mouths agape.
“Now that I have your attention,” he said coolly. “Let’s all act like
adults, shall we?” When Emmett and Chance didn’t respond, he continued,
“Thank you. Emmett, we understand that you want to protect Mom. We
feel the same way. We’re just asking you to be a little more discreet.
Chance, tone down the high-and-mighty attitude a little, eh? That’s
Emmett’s job.”
Chance sighed and sat back in his chair. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come
off like that.”
“Like what? Like me?” Emmett allowed the tension to leave his
shoulders. He knew his siblings didn’t understand his attitude or his need
to protect his family. He’d never told them about his time in Paris. They
knew he was gravely injured on deployment, but that was the extent of
their knowledge.
If they knew the truth, they would look at him differently. And if there
was one thing Emmett hated, it was pity.
Hell, they might even look at him with disgust.
“You’re right,” Emmett said. “I was out of line. I came to apologize to
Mom for acting like a jerk.”
“There now. We’re all on the same team, remember?” Owen said, eyes
twinkling. He grabbed Sarah’s hand. She looked like she was trying not to
cry. She had never liked when her brothers fought.
“Sorry,” Emmett said, meeting her eyes.
She nodded.
“I’m sorry too,” Chance said, squeezing her other hand.
“There is one thing I’d like to discuss, though, since I have you here,”
Owen continued. “Emmett, I was digging into some CIA servers for this
Senator Goodman job – “
 “You shouldn’t be hacking CIA servers.” Emmett ran a hand over his
short hair. Owen’s knack for hacking places he wasn’t supposed to had
already gotten him in trouble, and Emmett was running out of leverage to
get him out of it. “I’ve told you a thousand times -“
“Yeah, yeah.” Owen waved a hand. “I found some files with your name
on them. A lot of them. They were heavily encrypted, so I couldn’t open
them, but don’t you think that’s weird?”
Emmett kept his face blank. Too close. He was too close. “ESI works
with them periodically, so it makes sense that they would have a file on
me.”
“Not one file. Twenty-three files. Some of them have a top-secret
classification on them.” Owen gave him a quizzical look. “I promised I
would never dig into your past, and I haven’t, but whatever happened…
It’s affecting our family. Maybe if you shared with us – “
“There’s nothing to share,” Emmett snapped. “My time with the SEALs
is none of your business. I don’t talk about that time and I won’t start
now. Leave it alone, Owen.”
“Emmett.” Chance let go of Sarah’s hand and leaned forward. “You
can’t bottle it up forever. You’ve got to talk to someone about it.”
Emmett carefully stood, tucking the chair back under the table. This
wasn’t a conversation he could have with his family. Especially not now,
with the object of his betrayal in town.
Who was he kidding? Not ever.
“End of discussion,” Emmett said. “If you see Mom, tell her I was
looking for her. I have somewhere I need to be right now.”
He left the house, ignoring his siblings’ shouted requests to come back,
and sped out of the driveway before anyone could chase after him.
His hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel. He forced even
breaths out of his nose, focusing on the rhythm until he felt his
thundering heart calm.
Paris wasn’t something he could discuss with his family, and not just
because it still caused him nightmares. If they knew details of his time
there, it could put them in danger. If Owen made inquiries in the wrong
place, the entire family could become targets to the cell that kidnapped
and tortured him.
But it wasn’t just that, either.
 If they knew the truth of what he did there, they would look at him
differently. They would understand what he was at his core.
A monster.

*****

Ryann stood at the rocky shore of the Skagit River, in the shade of
Rainbow Bridge. She toed a pebble into the water with her steel-toed boot
and glanced at her watch. It was almost noon.
If Emmett wasn’t here by twelve o’clock on the dot, she’d know he
wasn’t coming. Punctuality was a character flaw of his. They’d spent
months arguing about it in Paris. Ryann didn’t believe in arriving on time;
sometimes life got in the way, and she liked to leave room in her schedule
for that to happen. Emmett, on the other hand, would have a conniption if
he was even one minute late.
It was just one more in the long list of reasons they would’ve never
worked together.
If only her heart would take that list into consideration. Then she
wouldn’t be standing here like an idiot, waiting for a man who probably
still thought she’d tried to kill him in Paris.
Ryann didn’t know what she would do if he didn’t show. She was
counting on his curiosity to bring him here despite his obvious distrust of
her. Without him, she couldn’t accomplish her goal. She’d never be able to
return to a normal life. Never see her parents again. Never spend an
afternoon painting without looking over her shoulder every five seconds.
She’d never be able to stop running.
“Ryann.”
Her heart gave a little stutter in her chest. She whirled around, but she
already knew it was him. The way he said her name was engraved in her
memory.
Emmett stood a good distance away. His hand was behind his back
again, ready to pull his gun if necessary.
“I wondered if you’d show,” she said, hoping her relief wasn’t written
all over her face. “I’m glad you did.”
“I want answers.”
Ryann stepped closer. His voice was steady, but he looked… off. The
calm, cool, and collected Emmett she’d grown to know in Paris seemed
close to breaking. She couldn’t quite clarify why she felt that way. By all
appearances, he seemed fine, but there was something about the tone of
his voice, the way his hand was clenched at his side.
If she could remove her gloves and touch his skin, she would know.
She would understand what was bothering him and how to help.
Ryann glanced down at her thin black gloves. She’d worn them for so
long that they were like a second skin now. Taking them off would be an
odd thing to do, and he’d see right through her.
Not to mention the bruises she’d have to hide from him later – if he
decided to trust her.
She sighed and looked up, meeting his eyes. “Did you ditch your
phone? Check for bugs?”
“I’m clean.” Emmett scowled, glancing at the empty shore around
them. “Found a wire in my truck. I left it back at the office and hoofed it
over here.”
Ryann nodded. “Good. If anyone finds out that you’ve seen me, we’re
both as good as dead.”
“You got me here. Now tell me what I need to know. How are you
here?”
“Here in the States? Or here, alive?”
“Both.”
She smiled ruefully. “Like I said last night, it’s a long story. You’ll be a
lot safer if you don’t know the details.”
He moved faster than she could react. His big hands grabbed her
shoulders, gripping tight so she couldn’t run away from him. She wasn’t
sure what he planned to do next, but she didn’t wait around to find out.
Instinct took over, and Ryann aimed a sharp kick at the back of
Emmett’s left knee. It buckled and he staggered to the side, but he didn’t
let go. Ryann used their momentum to sweep his foot out from under him.
They both went down. He landed on his back and Ryann landed on top of
him. Before he could tighten his hold again, she rolled off of him and to
her feet, backing away.
“Who taught you how to fight?” Emmett asked, getting to his feet. His
eyes glinted in the afternoon sunlight and the corner of his lips twitched.
“That’s a new skill.”
He was enjoying this.
 “I’ve learned a lot over the past seven years.” Ryann brushed off the
shoulders of her leather jacket. She resisted the urge to puff out her chest
with pride. “Look, I’m not here to ambush you. I’m here because you’re in
danger.”
Emmett snorted. “Why should I believe you? You left me to die in
Paris. Why would you care about my well-being now?”
“I didn’t betray you.” Ryann backed up as he approached her again. If
he wanted a fight, she’d give him one, but they didn’t have time to mess
around. “I’ll tell you on the way, but we have to get out of here. Someone’s
going to track me down soon if I don’t keep moving.”
“Who?” Emmett’s gaze narrowed. “Are you in trouble?”
Ryann couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Trouble doesn’t even begin to
describe it.”
“What does it have to do with me?”
“Everything.” Ryann kicked another rock, watching as it splashed into
the shallow water. “Emmett, I can’t explain everything right now, but I
will. I promise. I just need you to trust me.”
“You’ve given me no reason to do that.”
“If you don’t, we’re both going to die. Is that what you want?”
His eyes narrowed. “Woman, if you expect me to trust you, you have
to give me something in return. Why aren’t you dead?”
“Oh, for the love of…” Ryann blew out an irritated breath. How could
she have forgotten how stubborn he was? “Fine. The Company didn’t want
me dead. I was more useful alive.”
“Then why wasn’t I informed? You were my asset.”
Ryann met his eyes, silently urging him to see the truth in her words.
Urging him to trust her enough to listen instead of pulling his gun on her.
“The Company is corrupt, Emmett. This is bigger than you can imagine.
I’m the only one who knows, and I need your help to expose it. Both of
our lives depend on it.”
Emmett stared at her for a long moment. He must’ve seen something
in her gaze because he finally relaxed his posture. “All right. I don’t know
if you’re telling the truth, but I’ll go with you on one condition. When we
get to a safe place, you’re going to answer my questions. All of them.”
Ryann’s stomach did a nervous flip, but she put her hand to her chest.
“Scout’s honor.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
 Ryann almost wilted in relief, but there was no time for that. She
gestured for him to follow her, and they climbed back up to the road. She
pulled her bike out of the trees and rolled it toward Emmett.
“A motorcycle?” He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“We have to move undetected. We can’t take your truck. This
motorcycle is as close to untraceable as we’re going to get.”
“Let me guess. You stole it.”
Ryann raised her eyebrows. “Are you looking down on me for stealing
a motorcycle to survive? If I recall, you did much worse in Paris.”
Emmett scowled. “Give me the keys. I’m driving.”
“Yeah, no.” Ryann climbed onto the bike and patted the seat behind her.
“This is my baby. I’m driving. Come on, handsome, let’s go for a ride.”
 CHAPTER 6
Riding on the back of a stolen motorcycle ranked in the top ten most
humiliating things Emmett had ever done.
Not only was he not driving, but neither of them were wearing
helmets and Ryann was driving like a bat out of hell despite his shouted
requests – okay, orders – to slow down. They were breaking so many laws
that he felt like his head was going to explode.
They stopped by his house long enough for him to run inside and grab
his go bag. It contained a few pairs of clothes, some clean cash, and aliases
he could use in case of an emergency.
He still didn’t know exactly what he was dealing with, but it could
definitely be considered an emergency. Ryann’s urgency and the way she
kept checking the road behind them told him that the threat was real.
He felt the same adrenaline rush that he did when ESI started a new
mission. The promise of danger got his blood pumping, but he didn’t like
not knowing the details of the situation. He prided himself on knowing
every possible player and outcome before ESI set foot on a new
assignment. This was like jumping into the deep end without knowing
how deep the water was or if it was full of hungry piranhas.
They drove for the better part of the day, stopping a few times for gas.
Ryann finally pulled over at a cheap motel shortly after sunset. They’d had
no signs of a tail, but she pulled the bike around back, just in case.
Emmett waited until she got off the bike, then swung his leg over and
stretched. They hadn’t spoken much on the drive – the wind made it hard
to do so – and Emmett was brimming with questions.
 But first, he needed to take care of their sleeping arrangements.
“Stay here,” he said shortly. “I’ll rent the room. I’ve got an alias I can
use.”
Ryann was digging through one of the bike’s saddle bags. She waved a
hand over her shoulder in acknowledgement.
Emmett gave the receptionist his phony ID and a wad of cash to secure
them a room for the night. The rack of brochures near the front desk
informed him that he was in Missoula, Montana. Ryann hadn’t told him
where they were going, but he wasn’t getting back on that bike tomorrow
without answers.
When Emmett returned with the room key, Ryann had a stack of
clothes under her arm and a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. She
followed him to a room at the end of the hallway on the first floor, near
the emergency exit – Emmett’s request. When he unlocked it, she pushed
past him and into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The shower
turned on.
Emmett dropped his bag near the door and checked the locks on the
door and windows. They seemed secure. He stripped the top covers from
both beds and carefully folded them, then set them in the closet. Then he
slipped off his shoes, placed them next to his bed so he could slip them on
easily, and slid his gun under his pillow.
Satisfied, he laid on the mattress, hands behind his head, and stared at
the ceiling, allowing the sound of the shower water to lull him into a
peaceful meditative state.
When the shower turned off, he waited patiently for Ryann to emerge
from the bathroom.
She padded into the main room dressed in sweats and an extra large T-
shirt. The black gloves still covered her hands. Her hair was wet and
hanging down her back, but it wasn’t blue anymore. It was back to her
normal dark brown.
At his questioning look, Ryann chuckled. “It’s just a spray. I’ve been
turning my hair a different color every day to mess with the traffic
cameras. I don’t know if it really does anything, but it gives me a creative
outlet.” She shrugged. “I’m partial to the blue, though. Maybe when this is
all over, I’ll make that change permanent.”
Emmett sat up. “Care to explain what this is all about now?”
 Ryann perched on the end of her mattress. She ran a hand over the
sheets and raised an eyebrow at Emmett. “Really? You stripped the bed?”
“The duvet is full of germs. Everyone knows that.”
She coughed to disguise a laugh. “Right. Okay. I don’t remember you
being such a germaphobe.”
He scowled. “Don’t change the subject. Either you give me the full
details of what’s going on here, or you can get on that stupid bike yourself
tomorrow morning.”
“All right, fine.” Ryann brushed her hair and started braiding it. “The
corruption I was talking about? It goes all the way back to Paris. I didn’t
betray you to that terrorist cell - which, by the way, wasn’t ISIS like they
told you. They set both of us up. You were captured by the terrorists, and
I” – she took a deep breath – “I was captured by the CIA.”
“Excuse me?”
She looked down at her gloved hands. “From what I’ve gathered, they
were interested in two things – where the terrorist cell’s base was and
utilizing my gift for their own purposes. By getting you captured, they
were able to track you to the cell’s base of operations. By faking my death,
they were able to recruit me into the Company and train me to work for
them.”
Emmett didn’t know how to process this revelation. She had been with
the Company the whole time? Why hadn’t Ben told him? He knew how
Ryann’s death tore Emmett up. He knew the secret guilt Emmett carried.
Why?
Ryann cleared her throat. “I know it’s a lot, but it’s true. And the
corruption doesn’t end there. During the last six years, I’ve been gathering
intel – evidence – that the Company’s resources are being misused. It goes
high, Emmett. To the very top.”
“Director Gates?”
She nodded.
Emmett shook his head. “I’ve known Bill for years. He’s a good man.
He helped me after Paris – he was there during my whole recovery – “
“He’s the reason you were captured in the first place.” Ryann leaned
forward, holding his gaze. “He signed the order to leak your identity.”
Emmett shook his head. “It can’t be.”
“I saw it myself.”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
mintha gunyolná, megfagyasztaná: most már nem zavar semmi –
mért nem dolgozol?
És az özvegy férfi oda áll az ablakhoz, belebámul a fehérlő
éjszakába és zokogva tárja ki a karjait.
– Édes kis asszonyom, gyere vissza!
Eddig mese volt, a többi már valóság.
*
… Nesztelenül lépegetett ki a szobából.
Odabent egy darabig perczegett a toll, öntögette a betüket, de
aztán megállt. A férj kellemetlenül érezte magát, valami hiányzott
neki és bántotta is a lelkiismerete. Mért beszél ő olyan keményen a
feleségével, holott annyira szereti? Mért üldözi ki a szobájából, holott
hiányzik neki, ha nincs ott? Vajjon mit csinál a szegény asszonyka?
Valami zsibbadtság fogja el a testét. Belebámul a lámpa
világosságába és gondolkodik a meséjén. De a meséjéből valami
egészen más lett. Mindig az ő édes kis asszonyát látja, azt a
gyermeklelkű, gyenge kis asszonykát, a ki orvosságból él. –
Istenem, olyan gyenge, hátha…
Végig simítja izzó homlokát és kinos félelemmel a szivében,
halkan, de izgatottan benyit a hálószobába. Ott fekszik a gyermek,
holt fehérben, tágra nyílt, révedező szemekkel.
– Nem alszol, édes?
Az asszonyka elébe nyujtja kicsi karjait és a nyaka köré fonja.
Aztán csöndesen sir és azt mondja:
– Édes, kis uram, bocsáss meg, nem foglak többé háborgatni.
De az ő kis ura megijed erre a szóra és szenvedélyesen
csókolgatja piczi ajkait.
– Gyere csak édesem, mindig ülj oda az asztalom elé és
rakosgasd tele kicsi holmijaiddal. Igaz, hogy kissé idegessé tesz, de
hogy elmentél, még kevésbbé tudtam dolgozni. Aztán olyan rosszat
álmodik az ember, ha a feleségét megbántja.
*
Az ágy mellett az éjjeli szekrényen egymás mellett a czérna, a
gyűszű és az orvosságos üveg. A czérna nagyot ugrott örömében és
az ágy alá gurult. A férj utána bújt az ágy alá és az asszonyka
hangosan kaczagott és tapsolt jókedvében.
Aztán kérdezte, mi rosszat álmodott az ő kis ura, de az nem
mondta meg neki.
 A bagoly és a kanári madár.

I.

Két kicsi ablak az átellenes ház tetejére való kilátással. Egy

fekete roskadó kis kerevet, egy kicsi, alacsony ágy, három durva
faszék, egy nagy ócska iróasztal és egy ódon könyves szekrény. A
padlón szerte-széjjel heverő könyvek, az iróasztalon sok össze-
vissza hányt papiros és a párkányán egy szépen kitömött erdei
bagoly.
Ebben az otthonban ül dr. Demkó Tivadar, a filozófia, história és
az összes irodalmak tanára és szijja magába a papirosbölcseséget.
A nadrágja kopott és rövid, a czipője félre van taposva és a kézelője
meg a gallérja rojtos. A haja homlokába nőtt, csak a halántékon kezd
ritkulni. Fekete szemei örökké álmosak, kihegyesedő álla örökké
beretválatlan. A járása sietős, ideges, a melle befelé görbül. A
tudományok elvadult embere ő, nem mutathatja magát senki előtt,
csak a füles bagoly előtt, mely az iróasztalán áll.
Ha ír, ez a bagoly belenéz az irásába, üveges, álmos tekintettel,
nagy komolysággal. Ha hátradől a székébe és gondolkodik, ez a
bagoly szembe néz vele, magába roskadva, szürke gondolatokat
kergetve. Olyan komor, olyan borongó ez a madár, a bölcseség
jelképe s mint ilyen szomorú.
Dr. Demkó Tivadar nagyon szereti. Minden reggel gondosan
megkeféli minden egyes pihéjét, lefésüli szemei körül a világos
szürke tolltányérokat és az ujjaival csipi le fölpamacsairól a
porszemeket. Egynek érzi magát ezzel a kitömött madárral. Úgy érzi,
hogy a lét óriási problémái bénitották meg ezt is, mint az ő lelkét.
Hogy nemcsak együtt virrasztanak a nyomorult sárga lámpafénynél,
hanem együtt mondtak le a fehér napsugárról a hangos, dalos,
mulató életről is.
Dr. Demkó Tivadar nagy ember. Harmincz éves létére megírt már
vagy tiz kötetet és számtalan tudományos essay-t. Az akadémia
megválasztotta rendes tagnak és mindenki benne látja az első, az
egyetlen magyar filozófust.
De ez a dicsőség csak boszantja őt. Örökös kételkedés, úttalan
tétovázás az, amit eddig írt. Úgy hiszi, hogy csalja a világot. Azt a
nagy gondolatot, melyet ki akar fejezni s melynek kifejtése az ő élete
czélját képezi, nem tudta még tisztán és czéltudatosan maga elé
állítani. És ezzel a benne levő, de rejtőzködő gondolattal vivja ő
napról-napra, éjszakáról-éjszakára halálos, idegsorvasztó tusáit.
Majd átvillan agyán egy-egy világos sugár, azt hiszi, hogy megvan,
megfogta s ilyenkor fölugrik ültéből és dobogó halántékokkal, égő
arczczal jár föl-alá a szűk szobában. A bagoly rendületlenül
melancholikus komolysággal marad meg a zöld keresztfán és
gondolkodik tovább. Neki van igaza. Az a világos sugár az agyvelő
egy rakonczátlan villanása volt csak, egy hamis auto-suggestió,
lázas halluczináczió: a nagy igyekvésben fölizgatott agynak úgy
rémlik, mintha megtalálta volna, amit pedig csak szeretne megtalálni.
A bagolynál ez nem történik meg.
– Bárcsak én is ki volnék tömve – sóhajtja ilyenkor dr. Demkó
Tivadar, és halálra csüggedten dűl vissza a székébe.

II.

Dr. Demkó Tivadar már harminczöt éves. Még nem találta meg a
bölcseség kövét, de tudja már, hogy sohasem fogja megtalálni. Nem
tudja megtalálni, mert már nem bírja keresni. Az agya belefáradt a
gondolkozásba, megbénult. Homlokán megmaradtak a gondolkozás
mély barázdái, de a homloka mögött megszünt a működés.
Fásultan, gondolat nélkül bámul a világba. Nem érdekli őt semmi.
Nem tud semmit. De a hire még megvan, tudósnak tartja őt mindenki
és ő kénytelen tovább dolgozni. Tele irja a papiros-lapokat és
szélnek bocsátja őket. Midőn leül irni, maga sem tudja, hogy mit fog
irni. A tolla odavet egy szót a papirosra, erre a szóra eszébe jut neki
egy másik, és így készül az egész munka, melynek éles logikáját és
mély tudományosságát dicséri az egész sajtó. Megveti magát és fél.
Megveti magát, mert csalja az egész világot és fél, hogy elébb-utóbb
rajtakapják a csaláson.
Boldogtalan. Elvesztette hitét, Istenét és egyebe nincs. Nincs
barátja, nincs szeretője és olyan nyomorultul elvadult, kizüllött az
emberi közösségből, hogy nem is tudna szerezni. Néha erőt vesz
rajta valami szilaj elkeseredés. Szeretne törni, zúzni, káromkodni, de
még csak káromkodni sem tud. Nem tud semmit. Egy elveszett
ember, egy élő hazugság.
A bagoly ott áll az iróasztalon, változatlan komorsággal. Még
mindig gondolkodik, úgy mint azelőtt, midőn a gazdája is vele
gondolkodott.
Egy este tántorogva lépett be szobájába. Valahogyan vacsora
közben eszébe jutott, hogy megiszik egy palaczk vörös bort.
Megtette. És ekkor az ördögök fölébredtek benne. Egy tagolatlan
rikoltással kivánszorgott az utczára és betévedt egy czigányzenés
kávéházba. Ott cognacot ivott. Onnan hazatántorgott. A feje zugott.
Körülnézett az ő szobájában és átkozottul hidegnek, sivárnak találta.
Aztán megállt az iróasztal előtt és nézte a félig teleírt papirosokat.
Vad dühvel markolt bele a kézirathalomba és a fogaival
marczangolta szét. Majd ráesett tekintete a komoran, szürkén maga
elé meredő bagolyra és határtalan düh fogta el.
– Csaló, nyomorult csaló, – hörögte – engem nem csalsz meg!
Úgy nézel, mintha gondolkodnál, pedig tudom, hogy kócz van a
koponyádban agyvelő helyett. Le az álarczczal cimbora, ezuttal vége
a képmutatásnak!
 Ezzel fogta a madarat és a földhöz csapta. Egy pár toll kiesett
szétfeszített szárnyaiból. A madár a hátán feküdt és nézett, nézett
üvegszemével a részeg emberre, komoran, áthatóan, mintha
gondolkodna. A részeg emberen valami kisérteties borzongás futott
végig és lassan, félénken nyúlt a madár után.
– Legalább ne lássalak többé – mormogta és elzárta a
könyvesszekrényébe.

III.

A rongyos fekete divánt, a rozzant székeket kidobta és

kényelmesen, elegánsan rendezkedett be. Leberetválta bozontos,
tüskés szakállát és új, divatos ruhát vett. Elegáns, szép ember lett
belőle. De az a fátyol, mely az első üveg bortól a szemére borult,
állandóan rajta maradt. Fátyolosan, mámorosan látta a világot. És
megállapodott abban, hogy az élet mámor és annál szebb az élet,
mennél mámorosabb. Könyvhöz sohasem nyúlt többé, sem a
tollhoz. De eljárt a szinházakba, az orfeumokba és lelke őrült
paroxismusával belevetette magát a gyönyörök áradatába. Örülni
sohasem tudott. Epedő, égő szomjúság gyötörte minden után, a mit
élvezett, de élvezni sohasem tudott. Csókolt és szomjazott a csók
gyönyörére. Részeg volt és vágyódott a teljes részegségre, a
melyben megfeledkezhetnék magáról, hogy ne tudja, mit csinál. A
lábán nem tudott megállani, de az agya józan volt. Nem tudott
megfeledkezni magáról…

IV.

Valami csoda történhetett, hogy ő már reggeli tiz órakor felkelt.

Ragyogó szép májusi nap volt. Mély csüggedéssel, undorral a
lelkében lépett ki az utczára, az a ragyogó, enyhe verőfény valami
fájó, szentimentális vágyódást keltett benne a természet után.
Átment Budára. Az alacsony házak, a virágmuskátlis ablakok rég
elfeledett érzéseket keltettek benne. Szeretett volna gyermek lenni,
szeretett volna sírni. És ekkor az egyik ablakból madárcsicsergés
hangzott. Fölnézett. Ott az ablakba téve állt a kis kalitka, benne egy
parányi sárga madár szökelt egyik pálczikáról a másikra. Csattogott
a torka, tele jókedvvel, kitörő életörömmel. És odabent a fehér
csipkefüggöny mögött megszólalt a zongora és egy üde, fialal női
hang éneke. Egy pajkos operette-keringőt énekelt. Nem tudta miért?
De ez az ének összeolvadt a kanári madár csattogásával és azzal a
sajgó, vágyó érzéssel, mely ma benne támadt. Odatámasztotta
karját az ablak párkányára és ráhajtotta a fejét. Úgy állt ottan
önmagában összeroskadva és hallgatta, hallgatta a madarat, a
leányt, a zongorát és azokat a rég elhalt hangokat, melyek most
keblében újra fölcsendültek.
Ott állt magában elmerülve akkor is, mikor elhallgatott a zongora
s a leány egy pajkos trillával odalépett a kalitkához. Csak akkor riadt
föl, midőn a leány egy elfojtott sikoltással visszapattant, de látván a
férfi dult arczát, lázban égő szemeit, részvéttel hajolt ki hozzá és
csöngetyű-hangon kérdezte:
– Rosszul van?
Dr. Demkó Tivadar ránézett a leányra. A tekintetével majd
odatapadt a lelke is ahhoz az ártatlan, jószivű arczhoz, mely hozzá
lehajolt. Úgy érezte, hogy ha az a leány lenyujtaná hozzá a kezét és
fölemelné magához, akkor meg volna mentve. És a kanári madár
olyan boldogan csicsergett és a muskátlik az ablakból oly
erőteljesen, oly egészségesen illatoztak és piros virágai, zöld levelei
körülcsókolták a szép leány orczáit, aki tágra nyilt félő szemekkel
bámult a vergődő, szó után kapkodó férfira.
– Jőjjön be uram, feküdjék le egy keveset, hisz ön nagyon
rosszul van.
A megváltó szó!
 – Köszönöm – dadogta és nem volt ereje, hogy beforduljon az
alacsony kapun.
A szép leányfő eltünt a virágok közül és megjelent a kapu alatt.
Bizalommal, biztatóan fogta meg a férfi kezét és vitte magával a
szobába. Sötét volt ott és hüvös. És a falak tele arczképekkel,
szerte-széjjel apró fauteuillök állottak, a sarokban egy parányi puha
peluche-diván. Erre dült le dr. Demkó Tivadar és nézett, nézett
merev, szomjas szemekkel. Oly hüvös, oly tiszta itt minden. És ez a
leány olyan ártatlan, olyan szép és olyan jó. Rátette kis kezét az ő
verejtékes homlokára és ő ettől az érintéstől üdvözült. Mintha lelke
körül megolvadt volna az átkos varázs, mely eddig fogva tartotta.
Hirtelen viziói támadtak. Maga előtt látta az ő ócska, régi lakását, a
fekete divánt, az iróasztalt és a bagolyt. Itt be más minden! Bagoly
helyett kanári madár és ez a kanári madár úgy illik ehhez az illatos,
szép teremtéshez, mint ő hozzá illett a bagoly.
Mennyivel jobb itt! Az ő mostani életmódja kiesett emlékezetéből.
Mintha csak álom lett volna, vagy az sem. A poros, dohos,
reménytelen dolgozószobából vágyódott ide ebbe az illatos, tiszta,
madárdalos fészekbe. Oh, ha ő itt maradhatna!
És szeme könyörgően tekintett a leányra: itt maradhatok? hadd
maradhassak itt. Gyógyíts meg teljesen és azután boldogíts. Én is
ember vagyok. Szeretnék boldog lenni. Irgalom, hadd lehessek
boldog!
És ekkor az asztalon virágos üvegfedő alatt egy arczképet vett
észre. Becsületes, szép férfiarczot, nyilt tekintettel, energikus
vonásokkal. Ezt az arczot ő ismerte. Valamikor ez a férfi barátja volt,
akkor, amikor ő is dolgozott. De aztán elváltak útjaik, az ő vesztére.
Tudja, hogy ez a férfi jegyben járt. Itt áll az arczképe, meglátszik
rajta, hogy a szerelem őrzi. Vége, mindennek vége!
Azt mondta, hogy jobban van és megköszönte a leány jóságát.
Az barátságosan nyújtotta neki kezét. Dr. Demkó Tivadar soká
tartotta kezében, aztán sóhajtva távozott. Az ablak alatt még megállt
és hallgatta a kanári madarat. Végre is megindult.
 Vissza a bagolyhoz!
Üljünk ismét oda a szúette iróasztalhoz és emészszük magunkat
a lét problémáival. Dolgozzunk, feledjünk, száradjunk és öregedjünk.
Midőn belépett az ő elegáns lakásába, nem ismert rá. Azt hitte,
hogy eltévedt. A régi szegényes butorokat kereste és egy idegen,
nem az ő mivoltának megfelelő lakást talált.
Hol a bagoly?
Odalépett a könyves szekrényhez és fölzárta. A kulcs nyikorogva
fordult meg a berozsdásodott zárban és aztán komor sorrendben
meredtek feléje a poros fóliansok hátlapjai. A legfelsőbb polczon
hanyatt feküdt a bagoly. Demkó Tivadar óvatosan nyult utána és
kivette. Amint megérintette, szerte hulladoztak a tollai. Röppent a
szürke por. Azok a sugaras tollak a madár szemei körül már
egészen kihullottak, helylyel-közel kimeredt a puszta kemény test,
de az üvegszemek még most is rendületlen komolysággal bámultak
reá, mintha gondolatokat üznének.
Dr. Demkó Tivadar mereven állt és tartotta kezében a rothadó
madarat. Ahol érintette, ott hullajtotta pihéit. És ekkor tekintete
ráesett a könyves szekrény üvegajtajára és látta benne magát. –
Egy kiélt, sorvadó arczot, magas, ránczos homlokot és azon felül
szürkülő, gyér hajzatot, mely közül itt is ott is kifehérlett a puszta
koponyabőr. Demkó Tivadar bámult, bámult borzongva az üvegbe,
mintha most látná magát először és kiejtette kezéből a madarat:
– Belém esett a moly…
 Halvér.

Azt mondták szegény Kondri Istvánról, hogy vér helyett állott viz
kering ereiben. Talán úgy is volt.
Zömök, erős gyerek volt. Koromfekete haja odatapadt erős
homlokához, mely alól két elzsirosodott apró fekete szem
kifejezéstelenül, álomszerűen tekintett a távolba. Az arcza
sötétbarna, tömpe orra alatt sürű, erős bajusza erélytelenül
kunkorodott le. A termete is csupa erő és csupa álmatagság. Rövid,
izmos lábain inkább czammogott, mint járt; karjai, melyekkel
vasrudakat tördelhetett, gyámoltalanul, lustán lógtak alá.
De csak vérében volt a hiba. Az ő érzéstelen, lomha lelkületével
a legcsökönyösebb akaraterő párosult. Nem látta senki, hogyan
támadnak az ő elhatározásai, készen pattantak azok elő, és amit
Kondri István meg akart cselekedni, azt meg is cselekedte, minden
habozás nélkül, szinte plasztikusan.
A mikor Einjährig Freiwilliger Stephan Kondri volt, az ő halvére
miatt sokat szenvedett. A hadnagy urak megennék egymást
unalmukban, ha nem akadna minden esztendőben egy-egy
emberük, akin spleenes rosszkedvüket nyargaltathatnák.
Természetes, hogy ez a nevetségesen komoly fekete gyerek
mindjárt első nap a legjobb médiumnak kinálkozott. A leglázítóbb
szekaturáknak volt kitéve egész esztendőn keresztűl, de Kondri
István távolba vesző tekintetéből nem látszott, hogy neki valami köze
volna a dologhoz. Midőn azután novemberben először öltötte
magára a hadnagyi egyenruhát, felrándult Budapestre és sorra
bamutatta magát tiszttársainak, hajdani fölebbvalóinak.
– Tschau – üdvözölte őt az ő volt hadnagya.
 – Tschau – mondotta ő, de nem fogadta el a feléje nyujtott kezet.
– Kamerad, – szólt azután – te önkéntesi esztendőm alatt a
leggyalázatosabban bántál velem. Én ezért gazembernek tartalak
mostan.
A Károly-kaszárnyában összecsapott vele komisz huszárkarddal
és az első összecsapásnál széthasította a koponyáját.
Aztán hazaczammogott az ő somogyi udvarházába és a
legszebb rendben tartotta a gazdaságot.
Az emberei rettenetesen féltek tőle. Mindent látott és semmiért
sem pörölt. Egyszerűen odament a ludashoz és azt mondta neki:
– Barátom, maga el van bocsátva. Hordja el magát.
És ez ellen nem volt apelláta.
A kis város társas-életében pontosan részt vett. (Róla nem lehet
mondani, hogy élénken.) Ott volt minden városi ülésen, rendesen
eljárt a kaszinóba, minden mulatságra megvásárolta a maga jegyét,
el is ment, be is ült egy kuczkóba és onnan nézte a zajos
sokadalmat. Ha tánczosra volt szükség, tánczolt, ha negyedikre volt
szükség, tarokkozott. Ha a jókedv a kaszinó tetejéig ért, csapkodta ő
is az üvegeket a falhoz, de mindig azzal a kifejezéstelen
komolysággal az arczán. Dorbézolni mindenki látta, örülni senki.
Egyike volt a város leggazdagabb urainak, a háza pedig a
legelegánsabb. Renaissance-frontja hivalkodva vált ki a kopott
barna, roskadozó utczasorból és belűl minden csupa szőnyeg,
selyem volt. Egész villamos drótháló fonta keresztül-kasul a házat, a
gázt ő vezettette be elsőnek a szobái világitására. Volt billard-
szobája, vivó-terme, és hálószobája oly nőies elegáncziával volt
berendezve, mintha asszonyé volna. Innen való az is, hogy az ő
halvérüségét sokan gőgből magyarázták, bár nem volt a városban
úr, aki előtt nem ő emelt volna elsőnek kalapot s nem volt az a
szegény ember, a ki üres kezekkel távozott volna tőle.
 Volt valami sógorságbeli rokona a városban, aki nagy
igyekezettel ápolta a rokoni jóérzületet, mivel erősen rászorult a
Kondri István zsirálására. Öcsémnek szólította, tisztes ősz szakála
révén és sikerült neki idővel néhány rokonsági fokozatot kitörülve a
históriából, nagybátyjává lenni. Kondri Istvánon nem látszott meg,
hogy valamiképpen viszonozta volna a nagy szeretetet, de Kondri
Istvánon egyáltalán nem látszott meg semmi. Történt azonban, hogy
egy nagyobb összegről szóló váltóval a takarékpénztár ismét őhozzá
fordult kiegyenlítés végett. Ekkor Kondri István beváltotta a váltót,
elment az ő szerető nagybátyjához és odaadta neki azzal a
lakonikus kijelentéssel:
– Többet nem irok alá.
És ez ellen sem volt apelláta.
Azaz volt.
A nyáron hazakerültek a »cousine«-ok. Ketten voltak, mindössze
egy esztendő különbség volt köztük, de szépség és vidámság
tekintetében semmi. A cousineok első nap betoppantak a cousinhoz,
felverték a csöndes, nagy házat az ő csicsergésükkel,
kaczagásukkal, bejárták az összes szobákat, megtapogattak minden
szőnyeget, függönyt és megnyomkodták az összes villamos
gombokat, hogy csak úgy csöngött az egész ház és a cselédek
mindenünnen eszeveszetten rohantak elő. A lányok erre majd
hanyatt dőltek kaczagásukban, Kondri István azonban megmaradt
az ő komolysága mellett és száraz hangon küldte el ismét a
népséget. De úgy látszik, tetszett neki a kicsinyek csíntalansága,
mert bíztatta őket, hogy csak csöngessenek, amennyit akarnak.
Aztán még az nap elment az ő kedves nagybátyjához és bíztatta,
hogy ha kell aláirás, csak forduljon hozzá.
Hát persze, hogy hozzá fordult!
Kondri István ezóta sűrübben járt el a kaszinóba és ha nem volt
is szükség negyedikre, beállt egy tarokkompániába. Kártyázott sokat
és ivott.
 Látszott rajta, hogy szeretne kibujni az ő medvebőréből, olyan
lenni, mint a többiek. Próbált nevetni is, de egy elkényszeredett,
savanyú mosolygásnál nem vitte többre. Négy hét alatt átlátta, hogy
nem megy semmire és ismét kiállt a kompániából.
A cousineok nem mentek többé vissza Pestre, eladó lányok
voltak. És az ő jókedvükkel és szépségükkel csakhamar föléje
kerekedtek a többi lányoknak, ők kapták a legtöbb éjjeli zenét és
nekik voltak a legjobb tánczosaik. Kondri István mindig velük volt,
czipelte a belépőiket, hozott limonádét és tánczolt velük, ha éppen
kedvük volt vele tánczolni. A lányok pedig megszokták már ezt a
mindenre használható cousint, talán nem is láttak benne embert,
hanem egy igen elmés szerkezetet, melynek csak szólni kell, hogy
minden meglegyen.
Így ment ez két esztendeig. Akkor Juliska, az idősebb cousine
férjhez ment a járási orvoshoz.
Két héttel az esküvő után Kondri István elment az ő szeretett
nagybátyjához, beűlt egy nagy fekete karosszékbe és hallgatott. A
kedves nagybácsi iparkodott mindenfélével kedveskedni, de Kondri
István öcscséből egy hangot sem csalhatott ki mindaddig, mig
Erzsike cousine-ja be nem toppant hozzájuk, kezében egy óriási
orgona-koszorúval, melyet rögtön Kondri István tömzsi fejére tett.
– Szervusz, Pista, neked hoztam.
– Köszönöm, – mondotta – most állj meg egy komoly szóra.
Ezzel megfogta a leány két kezét, az ő fekete komoly szemeivel
belemélyedt a leány tágra nyílt csodálkozó két szemébe és a
legegyszerübb hangon a világon azt mondta:
– Juliska férjhez ment már, most rajtad a sor. Akarsz-e feleségem
lenni?
A leány hátrafelé dűlt, hogy megfeszültek a karjai, de Kondri
István nem eresztette el a kezeit. Aztán nevetésre fintorodott az
arcza, de midőn belenézett a komoly arczú ember szelid
bikaszemeibe, melyek úgy néztek, mint mindig, komolyan,
kifejezéstelenül, de valami sajátszerű áthatósággal, akkor elpirult,
lesütötte a szemeit, majd az édes atyjára nézett… Az
meglepetésében szintén nem tudott mihez fogni és zavarában
köhécselt.
– Nos?
És tekintete kényszerítette a leányt, hogy szemébe nézzen.
Hipnotizálva volt. Valami szivreható melegség áradt ki abból a két
fekete férfiszemből és komolyságában, szűkszavúságában, izmos
testének önfeledt lomhaságában s abban a nyugalomban, melylyel
feleletet várt, volt valami parancsoló, aminek nem lehetett
ellentállani. Még utolsó vergődésként hebegte:
– De hát a papa…
Oh a papának nem volt semmi kifogása, sőt nagyon örül neki,
hogy a két gyerek összekerül.
– Akkor hát… szivesen.
– Köszönöm, Erzsike, – szólt rezgő mély baritonján – nem fogod
megbánni soha.
És megszorította jegyese kezét oly melegen, hogy az felsikoltott.
– Bántottalak? – kérdezte alázatosan.
– Fáj – válaszolt halkan a leány s babonás félelemmel nézett
Kondrira.
A városban az eljegyzés híre nagy szenzácziót idézett elő.
Mindenki azt hitte, hogy ez a halvérű Kondri sohasem fog házasodni
és széltiben megindult a suttogás, hogy az ostoba legényt befonták
a vagyona miatt. Ennek a suttogásnak azonban hamar vége
szakadt, mert Kondri István olyat csapott öklével az egyik suttogó
arczába, hogy betört az orra csontja. Erre aztán csak gratuláltak, de
nem szóltak semmit.
 Erzsike, mint afféle jókedvű teremtés, hamar beletalálta magát a
váratlan új helyzetbe. Dalolva és kaczagva járta be István szobáit és
fenekestűl felforgatott mindent. Csak a fogadószobán nem
változtatott semmit, ez a nagy terem, melyben úgy látszott, mintha
egy pár a falhoz támasztott széken kivül nem volna semmi, félő
tisztelettel töltötte el. Úgy érezte, hogy ez a szoba szakasztott olyan,
mint az ő vőlegénye, ez így marad, legfölebb egy tükröt tesz a falra,
hogy láthassa magát benne.
Kondri István pedig szerelmében olyan volt, mint egy ragaszkodó
kutya. Levett kalappal lépett csak menyasszonya elé, s ha az kezét
nyújtotta feléje, gyöngéden, a két ujjával fogta csak meg és óvatosan
emelte ajkaihoz. Jegyességük három hónapja alatt sohasem
csókolta meg, még a homlokát sem. De elhalmozta ezer
gyöngédséggel és kivánságait a szeméből olvasta ki.
Erzsike gyakran incselkedett vele.
– Bolondos medvém, hát mindig ilyen leszel? Senkisem nézné ki
belőled, hogy vőlegény vagy.
– Úgy? – tünődött Kondri. – Aztán ez neked kellemetlen?
– Dehogy, dehogy, medvém. Maradj csak, a milyen vagy. Hanem
a mancsoddal megsímogathatnád néha a menyasszonyodat.
A szőlőindás verandán ültek egyszer, két héttel az esküvő előtt.
Az asztalon a vacsora maradványai és két kerti lámpa. Az illatos
nyári este, a csillagos ég, és hogy úgy egymagukban voltak, valami
ábrándos komolysággal töltötte el őket. Kondri István a kezében
tartotta menyasszonya kezét és nézte, nézte a szép, piros arczot és
a hosszú szempillákat, melyek félig eltakarták a kék szemeket. A
leány a távolba nézett, nem látva, nem gondolva semmit, de lelkét
valami sajátszerű fájdalom járta át, nem tudta miért, de úgy érezte,
hogy jó volna felolvadni most a nyári levegőben, mint az illat s nem
tudni semmit arról, ami reá vár. Aztán egy meleg szorítást érzett a
kezén s lelkében remegve, égetően hallotta a nevét csengeni, azon
a kifejezéstelen mély férfias hangon, melyen vőlegénye beszélni
szokott:
 – Erzsike, Erzsikém!
És aztán lefejlettek kezéről a csontos ujjak, odatapadtak az ő
szőke hajához és perzselő lehellet égette az arczát, amint az a
szűkszavú száj az ő ajkaihoz közeledett és aztán felsikoltott,
reszketve, rémülten, midőn az a férfiszáj oda szorult az övéhez.
– Jaj!
Kondri István elbocsátotta.
– Bántottalak?
– Fáj – suttogta a leány és aztán kezdett keservesen sírni.
És a halvérű emberen hervasztó hevület futott át, a lomha termet
megremegett és a vizben úszó szemekből mintha szikra pattant
volna ki. Térdre roskadt és karjaival átfonta a leány derekát s
leszorította fejét az ő égő arczához.
– Erzsike! drágám! mindenem!…
– Bocsáss, bocsáss, az istenért, könyörülj!
Kondri Istvánból egy pillanat alatt ismét halvérű ember lett.
Fölkelt és alázatosan, szinte félénken kérdezte:
– Fáj?
– Nem tudom, – suttogta a leány – de én félek tőled… Te olyan…
különös vagy.
– Vagy úgy!
És az ő becsületes szemében annyi szomorúság volt, amint
lehorgasztott fővel, kalapját az ujjai közt forgatván, mondta:
– Bocsáss meg Erzsike… azt hittem, hogy szeretsz.
Ezzel távozott.
Már másnap mindenki arról beszélt, hogy Erzsike mégsem akar
Kondri Istvánhoz menni és hogy visszaküldötte neki a jegygyűrűt.
Nagyon helyeselték, hogy a leány az utolsó pillanatban észre tért,
mert bizony ezért a vagyonért kár lett volna magát örökre
szerencsétlenné tenni.
Kondri István pedig elment a közjegyzőhöz egy részletes leltárral
és tollba diktálta neki a végrendeletét. Mindenét Erzsike hugára
hagyta kárpótlásul azért a nagy bántalomért, melylyel akaratának
ellenére illette.
Aztán hazament és főbe lőtte magát.
Mert ez a halvérű ember mindent rögtön szokott megtenni.
 Az első boa.

Nem találta meg senki az első boát? – Szép, bolyhos fekete boa
volt, puhán, melengetően simult egy gyermekesen sovány nyak
köré, és amint a fázós kis leány jókedvűen rakosgatta a lábait,
vidáman tánczoltak lelógó végei. Olyan szép, olyan kedves volt és
aki viselte, az én kedves, szerelmes kis gyermekem volt.
Aki megtalálta, adja vissza nekem. Ha férfi, adok neki egy meleg
téli kabátot érte, vagy ha uri ember, akkor adok neki tiz forintot
kölcsön. Ha nő, verset irok az emlékkönyvébe, vagy ha nincs
emlékkönyve, akkor megsúgom neki, ki a legszebb nő a földön. De
ha nem adja vissza, akkor őrizze gonddal s szeretettel, óvja a
molytól és óvja tolvajkezektől, s ha felölti, vegye föl előbb legszebb
ruháját. Mert ez a boa nem közönséges boa, hanem az első, melyet
az idén viseltek, és az első, melyet az én kedves, szerelmes kis
galambom kapott.
Tőlem kapta. Együtt mentünk az utolsó enyhe őszi estén az
Andrássy-uton és fölnéztünk a csillagokra. Bolondos, szerelmes
fővel kérdeztem tőle, hogy melyik csillagot hozzam le az ő számára
és ő ábrándosan nézte a divatkereskedés kirakatában a Heliosz-
lámpákat és szerelmesen suttogta:
– Vegyél nekem egy boát, úgy szeretnék egy fekete boát!
Oh földönjáró, babáról, boáról álmodó gyermeklélek, maradj te
csak mindig a földön! Fordítsd szememet a gázlángok felé, ha a
csillagok közt akarnak kalandozni. Legyen a földön biztos, szilárd
menedékem, ha magas szárnyalás közben lezuhanok a felhőkből.
Igen, egy boa, egy fekete boa, meglesz. Vedd föl, gyönyörködj
puhaságában, melegségében és fond soványka, lányos karjaidat a
nyakam köré, mert én is szeretem a boát, a meleg, puha boát, de
fehér legyen, de rózsás legyen és kék ereiben melegen,
szerelmesen keringjen a vér.
Milyen lázas kézzel, mily nyugtalansággal, mily éber vigyázattal
válogatta ki azt a boát! Engem egy pillanat alatt választott ki a sok
közül, de a boát kinos figyelemmel válogatta meg. Végre is döntött.
A kezében tartotta és véges-végig nézte. Véges-végig simogatta,
aztán odaállt a tükör elé és a nyaka köré csavarta. Kipirult a
boldogságtól. Üdvözülten nézte magát a tükörben, aztán kaczagva
összecsapta kicsi kezeit és szerelmesen nézett rám:
– Köszönöm, te édes.
És most vigyük sétálni. Hadd lássa mindenki a mi boánkat. Ilyet
még senkisem látott. Milyen szép! Milyen elegáns! És úgy illenek
egymáshoz, mintha isten is egymás számára teremtette volna.
Büszke vagyok mind a kettőre. A boa az övé, ő az enyém, tehát
mind a kettő az enyém.
Az Andrássy-uton sok ember jár. Mindenkinek a szeme megakad
rajtunk. Hogyne, hiszen a boa oly csodálatosan szép, aztán az
egyetlen az egész Andrássy-uton. Nini, boa! gondolja magában sok
asszony, leány. Tehát már viselik? – Holnap én is fölveszem az
enyémet. – Divatot csinálunk, angyalom, mint a cumberlandi
herczegnő és a bécsi szabó-kongresszus.
Vajjon minek néznek bennünket az emberek, ahogy így egymás
mellett lépdegélünk? Testvéreknek, cousinoknak? – Mondok egyet,
kis galambom, kettő lesz belőle. Nyújtsd a karodat, belé
kapaszkodom. Azzal a hanyag bizalmassággal, mely azt jelenti,
hogy te már jobban szeretsz engem, mint én téged. Akkor majd
férjnek és feleségnek néznek bennünket és azt fogják gondolni: ni, a
baba! Milyen fiatal és máris ő vezeti karján a férjét!
Ha ismerőssel találkozunk? Hát az se baj. Úgy is előbb-utóbb az
lesz a vége, hogy megtudják az ismerősök. Sőt lehetetlen, hogy ne
tudják már. Ha találkozunk, mindenki másfelé néz, ha együtt
vagyunk társaságban, mindig egymás mellé ültetnek bennünket.
Nálam tudakozódnak a te hogyléted felől, tőled kérdik, hogy
megszünt-e már a náthám. Hát mi baj, ha meglátják: egy csöppet
sem fognak csodálkozni.
Hogy igazán szeretlek-e? A leghamisabb esküvel, de tiszta,
őszinte szivből biztosítlak, hogy te vagy az első és az utolsó, akit
szeretek. Benned élek, nélküled nem érek semmit. Nem tudom
elképzelni az életet te nélküled, és úgy-e, te sem hagysz el engem
soha? Örökké, örökké egymásé leszünk, legalább ma még s
remélhetőleg hosszú időig. Hogy a jövőben hogy lesz? Honnan
tudjuk azt mi? Az ember nem felelhet magáról, sem te, sem én.
Lehet, hogy holnap már nem tetszik neked ez a gyönyörű boa s
lehet, hogy holnapután szégyelni fogod magad, hogy egy ilyen
csunya gyerekbe hogy lehettél te szerelmes. Ha úgy lesz, ne félj
semmit, mondd meg nyiltan, nem haragszom érte. Hiszen magam
sem értem, hogy mi az, amit bennem szeretsz. Nincs én bennem
semmi sem, ami szeretetreméltó. Unalmas vagyok, mint az őszi eső
és érzéketlen, mint a rossz termométer. Ha kiábrándultál, isten
veled. De második szerelmed megválogatásánál légy legalább oly
óvatos, mint a boavásárláskor.
Ni, hogy megfeledkeztünk az emberekről! Itt az Andrássy-út
végén, a lombtalan satnya gesztenyesorban mi ketten járunk
egyedül, de már ott fönn az octogonon sem vettük észre az
embereket. Megvakultunk, csak egymást látjuk, ketten vagyunk csak
a világon. Fond karjaidat a nyakamba, azután csókolj meg. Nem
tudsz még csókolni? Szégyenlős szemérmetesség tart vissza, midőn
az ajkad ajkam felé közeledik, aztán hirtelen félre fordítod arczod és
vállamra hajtod. Legyen áldva a tudatlanságod. Meg foglak tanítani
csókolni, de ne tanuld meg. Oly gyönyörűség, hogy nem tudsz
csókolni. Egy darab fehér ártatlanságot tartok a karjaimban,
mocsoktalanul, tisztán csüng rajtam s megtisztít engem is. Tüzes,
bűnös csókjaim ráhullanak ajkadra, szemedre s érzem, mint
tüzesedik föl az orczád, kicsattan rajtok a láz… és én imádlak,
szeretlek százszorosan, hogy olyan rossz tanítvány vagy, aki
mámorban, lázban sem tudod megcsókolni azt, kinek csókja neked
édes.