“You work for the CIA?” she asked.

He used to. They’d recruited him in college, when he’d been studying business management with every intention of joining the family business, Elliott Publication Holdings. They said it was because of his straight As and his uncommon athleticism. He’d worked a lot of undercover.

Then a nameless, faceless person had recruited him to a newly formed investigative arm of Homeland Security, an agency so secret it didn’t have a name. The agency had no central office, and it wasn’t mentioned in the national budget. Basically it didn’t exist.

Lying usually came easily to him. But for some reason he didn’t want to lie straight-out to Lucy. He settled for a partial truth. “I work for Homeland Security.”

“I didn’t know Homeland Security had its own spies.”

“Things are still evolving there.”

“How does one become a spy?”

“Why, are you interested in joining up?”

“Maybe. Anything’s better than what I was doing.”

He’d only been kidding, but she was serious. “So why did you work at a bank if you didn’t like it?”

She shrugged. “It was expected of me. And the money was pretty good. I’d been thinking about doing something else, though.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Running away and joining the circus, maybe. I’d make a good lion tamer.”

“You?” he blurted out, then wished he hadn’t, given Lucy’s reaction. He’d insulted her.

“Why couldn’t I tame lions?”

“I’m sure you could. You could poke them with umbrellas.”

“I think you’re making fun of me. But you didn’t think it was so funny when I had you on the floor. I almost gave you an impromptu tracheotomy with my trusty umbrella.” She looked around the car. “Oh, we left it behind. I liked that umbrella.”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he said, feeling a bit sorry for her. Her life had been disrupted, and it would never be the same. He didn’t think that fact had sunk into her head yet.