A Secret to Shatter by Katie O’Connor

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Two days later, Ira stood outside Tammy’s looking through the window. Honey was seated with Zindle. If he was only her boss and old friend, why was he back in town so soon after his last visit? Suspicion crept up Ira’s spine. He couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t right.

He knew better than to think Honey was involved in anything more than a friendship with the man. He knew down to his heart and soul she didn’t have an unfaithful bone in her body. Knowing that didn’t ease Ira’s suspicions. If it wasn’t cheating, what was she keeping from him? There was definitely a secret hanging between them.

Zindle had a familiar air about him and it went beyond having met him. Zindle was an unusual name; one which rang a bell, but Ira couldn’t place him. He wracked his brain for an answer. The man had a definite military bearing. He reeked of general.

Out of the blue, a thought struck him. Honey wasn’t doing some sort of social media work, or general research. She was working for this man, this military man. She was employed by the military for some purpose. The question was what.

Depending on what department she worked for, she’d need clearance. CSIS had four levels. Site Access (Level I), Secret (Level II), Top Secret (Level III), and Enhanced Top Secret (Level IV). He had obtained Secret status, and to the best of his knowledge, it had not been revoked. Technically, it was revoked at retirement, but he’d had no official notification, so he could claim he still had it. She could have talked to him.

He ignored the little voice telling him she had no way of knowing his status. He was piqued and trying to justify learning what she was up to. Because she was up to something, there was no doubt about it. And he wanted to know what it was. The question was, how did he find out what she did for Zindle, whom he’d mentally dubbed The General and what did it mean to their relationship?

He was ready to take their relationship to the next level. Or rather, he had been. Now, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to pursue permanency with Honey. Not if she was dishonest. She had so many other great traits. She was intelligent, a hard worker, kind, generous, loving. She had a great sense of humor and the ability to help people solve their problems. Just look how she’d managed to reassure him about the contents of his paternity letter. Beyond all that, Honey gave him a sense of belonging, of being home. He was whole when he was with her. But lies, even lies of omission, were a deal breaker.

With a split-second decision, he decided he didn’t want to see Honey talking with The General. He turned and walked away. He’d grab a bite someplace else.

* * *

Later that evening,Ira snuck into Honey’s building by holding the door open for another tenant who was laden down with grocery bags. After helping the blue haired lady to her suite, he jogged up the stairs and rapped on Honey’s door. Soft footsteps came from behind the door. The deadbolt snicked back and the door flew open.

“Ira?”

“Hi.” He looked down at her. Her hair was half in, half out of a knot on top of her head. She wore a baggy navy-blue T-shirt which read, If I’m ever on life support, unplug me and plug me back in. See if I reboot. There was a cute image of a computer in a hospital bed beside the words. The shirt hung to mid-thigh and he briefly wondered what, if anything, she had on under it. He shoved the thought away. “Sorry to barge in on you. Can we talk?”

“Um. Yeah. Sure. Come in.” She opened the door wide and stepped back. “Give me a second.” She scooted down the hall.

He heard water running as he hung his jacket in the closet and placed his boots neatly on the edge of the mat. He stood waiting until she came back. Her hair was combed and hung in loose waves down her back. Her bare legs were covered by thigh-hugging leggings patterned with bright blue and green swirls. She smelled of mint.

“Come in. Do you want something to drink? Wine? Beer? Coffee?”

He followed her to the sofa and sat on the left end, half twisting to face her when she sat at beside him, her back to the arm rest.

“Something is bothering you; I can see it. What’s up?” She reached out to stroke his hand where it rested on the back of the couch between them.

Now that he was here, facing her, he had no idea how to go about pressing for answers. He didn’t want to come off as a controlling jackass, which is exactly how he felt. He should have just left things alone. He should forget it and go home to the uncomplicated love of his life, his dog. Bill didn’t expect anything of him beyond a good meal and a few head scratches. Relationships with women were too complicated, which was why Ira hadn’t had many before this one. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.” There was a quiver of doubt in her voice. She pulled her hands to her lap and twisted her fingers together in the fabric of her skirt.

He struggled for words, discarding several options before finally blurting, “What, exactly, do you do for your other job? The computer one,” he added as if she wouldn’t know what he was talking about.

“I told you. Computer research.”

More evasion.

“Which means what? What are you researching? For whom?”

“I signed a confidentiality agreement. I can’t talk about it.” Her hands twisted until her knuckles were white.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax. “I saw you with your boss today. Tell me about him.”

“My boss? Cameron? You’ve met him.” She paused. “Wait. I didn’t see you today. I thought you were working all day.” She jumped to her feet. “Are you spying on me?” Hands on her hips, she glared down at him. “Seriously, Ira? Seriously? Are you freaking kidding me?” She jabbed a thumb toward the door. “Get! Out!”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “We need to talk about this, Honey.”

“Don’t Honey me.”

“It is your name,” he drawled, sarcasm born of frustration filled his voice. “I like you, Honey. I’ve come to care deeply for you. In fact, I’m in love with you. But I can’t live like this. I need to know what you do when you spend your time on your computer. If you even own a computer.” He glanced doubtfully around the apartment without seeing so much as an old laptop. No computer in sight.

“I fixed your computer, didn’t I?”

“Anyone can run antivirus software if they research what to run.” The provocative words slipped out and he wished he could call them back.

“Anyone, except you,” she snarked. “Out.” She walked to the door and held it open.

Oh yeah, he was doing this all wrong. He was pushing her buttons, and that was not his intention. She’d even ignored the declaration of love he hadn’t meant to throw out there. “Can we talk about it?” His stomach churned and his heart ached. He rubbed a hand on his chest to ease the discomfort.

“I’m done talking. I’m done trying to prove myself to you. Get out of my house. Before I phone the police.”

“Honey…”

“Stop saying that. Stop.”

God, she was beautiful with her face flushed pink with anger. She stood tall and straight, chest and shoulders heaving, one hand on her hip, the other pointed at the exit. He knew better than show amusement at her anger over using her name. It must be annoying to have your name sound like you were being patronized.

“I apologize.” He stood and walked slowly toward her, trying his best to be non-threatening. She was already irate, no sense angering her further. “Is there nothing you can tell me about your work?” He was pushing his luck.

She pushed the door shut and grabbed him by the hand. She dragged him down the hall and opened another door. She waved widely and gestured him inside to see what wasn’t readily apparent from the doorway.

An entire wall full of computer monitors. Ten of them. Several computers and printers. The room was as neat as a pin. An air conditioner whirred quietly in the window. “Holy cow,” he whispered, half awestruck.

“This is where I work,” sarcasm rang in her voice. “Believe me now?”

“I never said I didn’t believe you. But honestly, for all I know, this means you are a hacker in league with Zindle for some nefarious purpose.” Once again, his errant tongue betrayed him by spitting out random, baseless thoughts. The pain in her eyes hit him like a bullet. He’d gone way too far.

“Suppose you tell me every single detail of all your military missions? Where did you go? Who did you see? Did you drive a tank? Poison some dictator’s water supply? Rescue a village from infidels? Maybe you were a sniper, sitting high on a hillside, randomly gunning down strangers like you were in a video game.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he said, trying to explain himself. “I only shot when I was told to. There was no random killing. Designated targets under the perfect conditions with no chance of hitting an innocent bystander.”

“You were a sniper?” Her voice cracked as it rose on the last word.

“I told you I killed people.” He didn’t try to sound defensive; the words just came out that way. He’d done what he had to. Under orders. He’d spent months in therapy dealing with the aftermath. He’d hated every moment of his job. But he was an excellent shot. One of the best in Canada. He wasn’t a record holder, but he was good with a rifle. He had the skills to fill a need.

“Just how many people have you killed?”

He studied her expression. To his relief, there was no fear, just curiosity and confusion.

“I can’t tell you. You don’t have the clearance. Strictly need to know.”

“I have clearance.” She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to speak.

“Military clearance?”

“Yes.”

“So, you don’t just do random research. You’re working for the military.” She just confirmed his half-formed opinion. He jumped on her mistake and ignored the question of how many people he had killed.

Realization of her slip replaced the confusion in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that. Forget you heard it. Please. I could lose my job over this. I need my salary to live on.”

She wouldn’t need money if she married him. He had more than enough to support two people. The thought came out of the blue. He was beginning to think parts of his brain operated on an entirely different level, one that he wasn’t aware of.

“I can’t unhear something, but I can agree not to share the information,” he promised. “Tell me about Zindle. He’s said he’s military, how does that relate to your work?”

“I can’t talk about it. Cameron is my boss. End of discussion. Unless of course you want to tell me about all your hits?”

This was going nowhere. Round and round. Each wanting to know more. Both unable to share the secrets dividing them. If she did have military clearance, she would know better than to push him for details. He could never tell her. Clearance on missions was level four, and need to know. She had no need to know. None.

“You know I can’t talk about it.” He returned to the entry and put his coat and boots on.

“You’re leaving? You just bust in on me, demand answers, then skip out on me?” She was almost yelling. Her eyes flashed with anger and recrimination.

“Unless we have complete honesty between us, this isn’t going to work. Goodbye, Honey. I’ve enjoyed the time we spent together.” He opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, easing it shut behind him.

He was being an unreasonable jackass. If she was military, or a civilian contractor, she couldn’t share what she did. He knew that. He understood her no information stance. Still, it rankled him. If she loved him, she should trust him enough to share her secrets.

“Yeah, like you shared yours,” he muttered as he strode out of the building toward his jeep half a block away.