Блейк Пирс: A Neighbor’s Lie

“Maybe I’ll come by and see you Friday afternoon. I expect you to serve me whatever drink you consider your specialty.”

“Better not plan on driving home, then,” Danielle said.

“Noted.”

“How about you? When does your new job start?”

“Tomorrow morning, actually.”

“In the middle of the week?” Danielle asked.

“It’s sort of an orientation thing. Mostly meetings and all of that for the first day or so.”

“I’m excited for you,” Danielle said. “I know how much you’ve wanted this.”

It was nice to hear Danielle speaking highly of her work. Not only that, but even pretending to take an interest in it.

There was a heavy silence between them, one that mercifully ended with Danielle saying something that was rather out of character for her. “Be safe, Chloe. With the job…with Dad…with all of it.”

“I will,” Chloe said, the comment taking her off guard.

Danielle ended the call, leaving Chloe to look around the central area of her apartment. It was hard to see the totality of the place because of all of her clutter but she already felt that the place was home.

Nothing like an awkward conversation with Danielle to make a place feel like home, she thought idly.

Slowly, stretching her back, Chloe got out of the recliner and went to the box closest to her. She started to unpack it, getting a sense of what her life would be like if she didn’t figure out how to reconcile relationships. Whether it was with her sister, her father, or her ex-fiancé, she didn’t have the best track record of keeping people close.

At the thought of her ex-fiancé, she came across several framed pictures sitting at the bottom of the first box. There were three pictures in all, photos of her and Steven; two were from their earlier days, when dating had been the only thing on their radar. But the third was a picture of them after he had proposed…after she had said yes and nearly started crying.

She gathered the pictures up out of the box and placed them on the kitchen counter. She rummaged around and found her trashcan sitting on the other side of the room, next to her mattress. She took the pictures to it and dropped them into the trashcan. The sound of the glass breaking in the frames was a little too delightful.

Easy enough, she thought. Can’t wait to move on from that debacle. Now, why can’t you move on from this nonsense with your father just as easily?

She had no answer for that. And the thing that scared her was that she felt the answer might be hiding in a conversation with him.

With that thought, the apartment seemed emptier than before and Chloe felt very much alone. The mere thought of it made her go to the refrigerator and start on the six-pack she’d purchased earlier in the day. She opened the bottle, a little alarmed at just how good that first swallow was.

She did her best to occupy herself that afternoon and well into the night, not by unpacking but by slowly going through the boxes one by one and trying to decide if she needed each and every item. The trophy she’d won for the debate team in high school went the way of the trashcan. The Fiona Apple CD she had been listening to when she lost her virginity as a sophomore in high school, she kept.

Any pictures of her father went into the trash. It hurt to do it at first but by the time she was on the fourth bottle of beer, it was easier.

She made it through two boxes…and would have probably gone through at least one more if she had not gone to the fridge only to find that she had somehow gone through the entire six-pack. She looked at the clock on the stove and let out a little gasp at what she saw.

It was 12:45 at night. So much for getting a good night’s sleep before my first day , she thought.

But what was even more alarming was the fact that she was more upset about the empty six-pack than having a potentially groggy morning on her first day with the bureau. She fell into bed after brushing her teeth, the room spinning a bit, as she realized that what she had really been trying to do that night was make herself not give a care about trying to erase memories of her father.

Chloe hadn’t been sure what to expect when she stepped into the FBI headquarters the next morning. But what she absolutely had not been expecting was to be met by an older agent in the lobby. She saw him as he spotted her and wasn’t quite sure what to do when she noticed that he was walking directly toward her. For a moment, she thought it was Agent Greene, the man who had served as her instructor and partner on her sort-of case that had led to uncovering the truth about her father.

But when she got a better look at his face, she saw that this agent was another man entirely. He looked hardened and made of stone, his mouth drawn in a tight line across his jaw.

“Chloe Fine?” the agent asked.

“Yes?”

“Director Johnson would like to speak with you before orientation.”

This both excited her and scared her. Director Johnson had made exceptions for her when she had been partnered with Greene. Was he perhaps having second thoughts? Had her actions in that last case perhaps gotten him into some hot water? Had she come this far only to have her dreams crushed on the first day?

“What for?” Chloe asked.

The agent shrugged, as if he really didn’t care. “This way, please,” he said.

He led her to the elevators and for a moment, Chloe felt as if she had stepped back in time. She could see herself stepping into these same elevators a little over two months ago with this exact same knot of worry in her stomach, knowing that she was going to meet with Director Johnson. And just like last time, that knot of worry began to grow tendrils into the rest of her body as the elevator started sliding upward.

The stone-faced agent led her off of the elevator when it came to a stop on the second floor. They passed several offices and rooms before the agent came to a stop outside of Johnson’s wing. The secretary at her desk gave her a polite little nod and said, “You can go on in. He’s waiting for you.”

The stone-faced agent gave her a similar nod—only not nearly as polite—and gestured toward the office door. It was clear that he was not going in.

Doing her best to stay calm and reserved, Chloe walked to Director Johnson’s door. What am I so afraid of? she wondered. The last time I was called to his office, I was granted responsibilities and duties most new agents in my shoes don’t get. This was true, but it did nothing to settle her nerves.

Director Johnson was sitting at his desk, intently reading something on his laptop when she entered. When he looked up, all of his attention was on her; he even closed the lid on the laptop.

“Agent Fine,” he said. “Thanks for coming. This will only take a second. I don’t want you to miss any of the orientation—which, I’ll go ahead and let you know—is fairly quick and painless.”

Hearing Agent Fine was still something of a head trip for her, but she tried not to let it show. She sat down in the chair in front of his desk and smiled as evenly as she could. “No problem,” she said. “Am I…well, is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” he said. “I wanted to present you with an option concerning your duties. I understand that you’re heading into a career with the Evidence Response Team. Is that something you’ve always had your eye on?”

“Yes sir. I have a pretty strong eye for detail.”

“Yes, that’s what I hear. Agent Greene spoke very highly of you. And despite a few hiccups in the events from two months ago, I have to admit—I was very impressed as well. You carry yourself with a confidence and unwavering certainty that is rare in newer agents. And it’s because of that and the feedback I got from Agent Greene and a few of your instructors from the academy that I want to ask you to reconsider your department of interest.”