Page 93 of Jonesing for a Spy

“Come now. That won’t be necessary,” the smooth feminine voice says. “Have a seat.”

“All due respect… No.” I shift my weight from foot to foot.

“You’ll want to hear what I have to say.” She tilts her chin to my sofa as if she expects me to obey her whims.

I study the woman. She’s lean and fit, with short blondish hair, and looks vaguely familiar. One leg is draped over the other in tailored slacks. She doesn’t look concerned at all that she’s trespassing, or that I’m a man who could easily overpower her if I had to.

“My ears work fine with me standing.”

She laughs and stands, making her way to right in front of me, almost eye to eye. “Have it your way, Strider.” She extends a hand. “I’m June Jones, Mirren’s mom.”

What the hell?

“And you thought breaking into my home was a good idea?” I eventually take her proffered hand. Some force of inexplicable midwest manners requires my compliance.

Knowing who she is and that I doubt she’s here to finish what O’Neill started, I take a seat and gesture to the chair she just vacated.

She’s silent… watching and judging, waiting on something, but I have no clue what.

“I don’t like being in the dark, Mrs. Jones. Care to enlighten me why you’re in my living room?”

“Call me June,” she replies as if she’s in complete control of the situation.

Again. What the hell?

“Okay, June. What can I do for you?

She looks at my throat before meeting my eyes. “How good are you at keeping secrets, Strider?”

“Well, I’m not interested in a tryst if that’s where you’re going. I’m in love with your daughter and not going to entertain anyone else.” My eyes narrow. “And I hate lies and secrets.”

A smile breaks across her face. “Can you keep a secret though? It’s imperative I know.”

Nothing in my life should be imperative to anyone else. “I won’t keep anything from Mirren.” My words are gunshots… lethal, precise and final.

“I can see why Scooter likes you. Yet, I still need an answer.” She drums her fingers on the arm of the chair as if I tire her.

“I can. But I won’t promise to keep anything from your daughter.”

She nods slowly. Not in agreement with me, but as if she’s metering her thoughts. Her eyes focus on mine. “I’m going to tell you something that only my sister and my husband know. Mirren does too, but my boys do not. It’s imperative it stays that way.”

There’s that word again.

“When I left college, I was recruited by the CIA. They trained me. Very well, I might add. I worked as a spy in the eighties. Sharing this could get me killed. It’s certainly frowned upon.”

Of all the mother-in-law problems I could’ve walked into…

“It’s a life that Mirren was made for.” She gestures to herself as if she birthed a spy by sheer genetics. “And she’s damn good at it.”

Wait. Wait. What? “Are you telling me…?”

“I’m not telling you anything. I’m letting you infer from data I’m not sharing.”

I jump to my feet, pacing my living room. Mirren’s lied to me this whole time. What’s been real? I was talking about shuttering my business to be with a woman who lies as smoothly as she breathes. And does it as a job! I missed every clue.

Hell. There were no clues. She’s a professional liar.

And I was clear what would happen if she lied to me.