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Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Love best-selling fiction?
  3. Also by McGarvey Black
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. Acknowledgements
  60. A note from the publisher
  61. Love best-selling fiction?
  62. You will also enjoy:

They had separate walk-in closets and she rarely went into his unless she was hanging up his dry cleaning. A little tipsy from the drink, she ventured into his closet and took a hard look at her husband’s wardrobe, examining the labels on all his suits. Brooks Brothers, Bloomingdale’s, Saks, Thayer and Co, Macy’s. Clearly, my husband has zero brand loyalty.

She straightened out a few of his jackets on their hangers. Many of them were new with their tags still attached, purchased compliments of the FBI for his undercover sting operation. As she touched a few of the sleeves on his new suits, she noticed a collection of face masks looped over a hanger. Four months earlier, there wouldn’t have been a single mask in his closet. Now everyone in the country had their own collection.

She picked up a New York Mets mask. I haven’t seen him wear this one. I didn’t even know he liked the Mets. After taking another sip of her drink she noticed a navy-blue mask underneath the others. It looked vaguely familiar. She polished off the remainder of her large cocktail. The cozy effects of the bourbon and Ambien had already made her mind fuzzy. She took the blue mask off the hanger and stared at it. One side of the mask was embroidered with an emblem of a little white shirt and red tie. Wait, I know this. It’s the same mask the woman in the park had. She flipped the mask over. On the inside it was stamped—“Property of FBI White-Collar Crime Unit.”

46

Zoe dropped the mask and stumbled out of her husband’s closet, now feeling the intense effects of the drink and drug. When she saw all the dirty clothes scattered around the room she forgot about the mask and suddenly decided to do a load of laundry. Grabbing an armful of dirty laundry from the floor, she picked up Conner’s overnight bag to empty it. She pulled out another wrinkled Thayer and Co shirt along with a half-dozen pairs of dirty socks and undershorts. Gathering it all under one arm, she took a last look inside his bag to see if she had missed anything.

That’s when she noticed a black phone in an inside pocket of the bag and took it out. Conner forgot his phone? What if someone from the bureau needs to reach him? He’s supposed to have it with him at all times. I should call him. Oh wait, I can’t, he doesn’t have his phone. Increasingly bleary-eyed and unsteady on her feet, she sat and examined the phone more closely. Wait, this isn’t Conner’s phone. He has an iPhone. This is an Android. Maybe it’s a special FBI phone? Zoe smiled. A secret spy phone.