Sasha walked to the center of the courtyard. Surrounding her were all the educational buildings, the kitchen, and dining hall, with all the lower levels there to hide what Richter was all about from the outside eye.
Students walked past her, rushing to class . . . talking among themselves.
How many students had Pohl recruited in the past?
How many young, innocent, yet talented kids took a job and found themselves stuck? She’d bet the bank that at least one of the women on AJ’s list was someone Pohl knew personally.
She needed to leave. Analyze the data she’d managed to download the night before and find the links.
Her phone, the one that hadn’t rung on campus in two days, buzzed in her back pocket.
Not recognizing the number, she brought it to her ear. “Hello.”
“Holy shit, Sasha, Creepazoid is a total douchebag.”
Sasha lowered her voice. “Claire?”
“He wanted to hire you to be a killer. You caught that, right?”
Sasha looked around. Students rushed by. “You heard the conversation?”
“All of it. That’s why I’m calling. The minute you left the room, he made a call. I only heard his side.”
“Could you tell who he was talking to?” Linette, maybe?
“No. But he said they needed to move on to plan B.”
Plan B?
“No details?”
“Sorry. Like I said, I only heard one side of the conversation. Do you think he meant plan B to make you work for them?”
Sasha noticed a clustering of gray clouds blowing over her. “You can’t make someone work for you . . .” Unless . . .
“I’m glad you told him what to do with his job.”
“Are you still in the boiler room?”
“How do you think I called you? I don’t have a cell phone.”
Sasha headed toward the kitchens. “Can you copy the conversation onto a drive and meet me outside the library in twenty minutes?”
“Yeah.”
“Perfect.” Sasha hung up and made her way to Brigitte’s classroom.
“How did it go?” Linette asked Pohl once she returned to her office. The question was a formality. She could tell from his expression Sasha had turned him down.
“Seems your alum has no need of the income I can offer.”
Linette took her robe off, hung it up. “I warned you that might be the case.”
“I wasted my time, Linette. You know how much I hate doing that.”
She met his gaze, unfazed. “At least you haven’t wasted your money.”
Pohl tugged at the sleeves of his jacket, first the left, then the right. “And you have not earned a finder’s fee.”
“It appears so.”
He glared, and she did her best to not let him see her discomfort.
Linette shook his hand and stayed on her feet until after he’d left her office.
Once gone, she sank into her chair and opened the bottom drawer. In the back, behind several files, she removed a flask and twisted off the top. She poured herself a drink into the empty coffee cup on her desk.
Sasha stood in the doorway of Brigitte’s studio and waited until she noticed her before motioning toward the locker room.
It didn’t take long for the woman to find her.
“How did your meeting go?” Brigitte asked once she was at her side.
Sasha shook her head. “I didn’t take his job.”
The other woman smiled. “Good. Being a spy is dangerous work.”
“You really think that’s what he recruits?”
“Isn’t that the job he offered?”
“No. More like a hired gun.”
Brigitte stopped smiling. “What?”
“Those weren’t his words, but I knew what he was suggesting. If I wanted to shoot at people, or be a part of a team that did that kind of thing, I’d have joined a military.”
“I always thought his recruiting was more legitimate than that.” Brigitte regarded her with remorse. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
“I am. I came here to find some kind of direction in my life and I now realize that answers aren’t here. Time for me to move on.”
Brigitte shifted on her feet. “I’m going to miss you. You’ve been a bright light in the last week.” She moved in for a hug.
Sasha stiffened. “I’m not a hugger.”
“Too bad.” Brigitte wrapped her arms around her anyway. In her ear, she whispered, “Watch your back with Pohl.”
Sasha stood back. “I will,” she paused. “Miss you, too.”
Brigitte’s eyes glistened and Sasha felt an unfamiliar knot in her throat. “You have my number,” she said.
“Be well.”
Claire was exactly where Sasha asked her to be nineteen minutes after her call. In her school uniform, minus the jacket they were required to wear during the fall, the young woman leaned against the brick building as if bored. In her hand she held a package of gum.
Students moved around them, some watched if only because Sasha wasn’t dressed like staff and had burned her uniform the day she left Richter.
“Hey.” Claire greeted her, pulled a stick of gum from the package. She lifted it toward Sasha. “Want some gum?”
Sasha shook her head.
Claire wiggled the package. “You sure? It’s fruit flavored.”
She glanced at the package, noticed a zip drive.
Clever girl.
“Maybe for later.” She took the drive, placed it in her front pocket. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Claire picked up the bag at her feet.
“Listen. I’m leaving.”
The girl stopped smiling. “I knew that was coming . . . when?”
“I need to pack my bag, say goodbye to the headmistress.”
Claire looked away. “So . . . when I’m outta here, maybe we can . . . I don’t know, hang out?”
“I’m not good at—”
“I’ll need a job. Maybe you know someone?” Claire interrupted, making that lump in Sasha’s throat constrict. She liked the kid, reminded her of herself. “I guess if Creepazoid is still hiring . . .”
Sasha stopped her with a stare. “You have my number.”
That was all the girl needed to hear. She winked and pointed one finger toward her. “See you on the outside, then.”
Once Sasha turned around, she let her grin show.
Thirty minutes later a knock sounded on Sasha’s open bedroom door.
Linette stood in the doorway, a smile on her face. “I heard you were leaving.”
Sasha zipped her duffel and grabbed her leather jacket. “I am.”
“Without saying goodbye?”
“Of course not.”
They took each other in. “Just because you didn’t take Pohl’s offer doesn’t mean you need to leave.”
“Yes, it does, actually. If I stayed, I’d spend all my energy trying to figure out why you work beside that man.”
Linette stepped inside the room. “He’s found many jobs for our students over the years.”
“Employment that can get a person killed.”
“Joining the military can end the same way. Law enforcement. You can’t be a humanitarian in a third world country without the risk of being kidnapped and used for—”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Linette moved to the window and stared beyond the pane. “Do you know there are military departments that recruit through video games? Stealth drones fly over countries and drop bombs from half a world away. Richter trains many skills, as you know, but it takes a certain personality that can take on the challenge of that kind of job and still be a whole person.”
“How do you know if the students that left to do those jobs are whole, Linette?”
“I don’t. Any more than any other dean or principal or headmistress in any other school. What I do know is Richter has a ninety-six percent graduation rate for high school. Eighty-nine percent for college, and of that, seventy-seven percent are employed before they walk on my stage to grab their diploma.”
Sasha shook her head. “So that’s why you break bread with Pohl? To keep Richter in high standing?”
“Pohl is given very limited access to the graduates to even interview. I thought since you came back searching for a future, you’d appreciate the opportunity. I was wrong.”
“Defending myself by any means necessary isn’t something I’m opposed to doing. Using those skills to earn a living . . . or worse, keep from being bored . . . not me.”
Linette lifted her chin. “Your stay with us wasn’t in vain, then. At least you know what you don’t want to do. I’m sorry I miscalculated your need and invited Pohl to talk to you.”
Was she? Was that sincerity on her face, or a woman trying to hide behind a mask? “I can’t fault you for that.”
“I hope you won’t find fault at all. But I can see from your eyes I’m asking too much.”
Sasha tried to smile. “No, Linette. You’re doing your job. The students here are safe and much more likely to take care of themselves out there. No one knows that better than me.”
Linette looked around the room. “Well, I won’t keep you. I’ll let the staff know you’ve left and won’t be returning. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you survived your father, and that your benefactor made you financially independent enough to say no to Pohl’s offer. I’m sure you’ll do great things in your life.”
“Thank you.”
Sasha couldn’t stop the disappointment in her chest as she watched a woman she’d considered her protector for years walk away.