There was something wrong in the room; Shaw could feel it, a clash of energies, and his stomach dropped because he knew whatever Chuck was going to say next, he wasn’t going to like it.”

“No,” Chuck said, her eyes dropping to her combat boots. “Nothing like that. He’s, uh . . . he’s actually the founder of Iris.” She swallowed, and then she said the rest in a rush. “And he’s missing.”

Chapter 3

NORTH WAS TRYING TO CONTROL the anger burning through him, but it had gotten out of control. All he could do now hope that some sort of emotional fire break would stop the rage before it made him do something stupid. So he was very proud of his voice. Very moderate. Very even.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Pari said, squirming closer to the edge of her seat. “I’ll rip the hair right off your head.”

“Pari, will you cool it?” Shaw said. “Chuck, talk us through that. It’s kind of—”

“The most unfuckably stupid thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“—hard to believe.”

“Yeah,” Chuck said, a small grin lingering on her mouth before vanishing. “Yeah, I mean, it is pretty stupid. And pretty hard to believe. And kind of—kind of amazing, actually. Kind of wonderful, I think. I guess that’s what I think, anyway. I don’t know some days.”

“He started Iris Kids STL?” Shaw said.

Nodding, Chuck said, “Yeah, it’s kind of his baby. His atonement. That’s what he calls it. His way of making up for what he did.”

“This is unfucking believable.”

“North,” Shaw said.

“I’m sorry.” He swiveled hard enough that his knee banged against Shaw’s again, but Shaw’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’m sorry, are you listening to what she’s saying? This asshole butchered the souls of a thousand kids, ruined their fucking lives, and he thinks he can make up for it by setting up board games and a snack bar and letting suburban kids hang out for a few hours every week?”

“That’s not what Iris is like,” Chuck said. Then she blushed. “Not totally, I mean.”

“This is a job,” Shaw said, his eyes still locked with North’s.

That gaze. Those hazel eyes. Shaw didn’t get angry, not really, but he did get . . . intense sometimes. And right now was one of them. That gaze hit North like a bucket of snow, and he blinked, patted himself down, not quite able to look Shaw in the face. He grunted, nodded, and spun back toward his desk.

“Why don’t you tell us all of it?” Shaw said

For a moment, Chuck hesitated. Pari squeezed her hand, and Nels squeezed her other hand, and then Chuck began talking.

“Shep’s complicated. That’s the best way of saying it. And passionate; I guess you need to know that too. When he’s into something, he’s in a hundred percent. When he was doing the religious thing, when he was—”

“Running a conversion center,” North said, proud again of the evenness in his voice.