“Not just from us,” Shafer said. “The Chinese might try to clean this up themselves.”
Exley needed a second to understand what Shafer meant. Would the Chinese be cold-blooded enough to kill their own mole if they believed the agency was about to arrest him?
“Doubtful,” Tyson said. “It wouldn’t help their recruiting any.”
“I agree,” Exley said.
“You two have an optimistic view of human nature,” Shafer said. He stood to go. “Anyway, we have some work to do.”
20
THE GLINT OF EXLEY’S WEDDING BAND CAUGHT HER by surprise as she drove. She’d pulled it out of storage for today’s job.
After meeting with Tyson, Exley and Shafer had spent the rest of the day going over the list of agency employees who’d known enough about the Drafter to betray him. Of the eighty-two names on the final list, twelve matched at least the broad outlines that Wen had given for the mole’s career history, or had suffered a serious accident or illness five to ten years ago. Unfortunately, none of the twelve men fit in both categories. That would have been too easy, Exley thought.
“The dirty dozen,” Shafer said. Separately, thirteen men now matched the soft criteria that she and Shafer had devised earlier. Five employees were on both lists.
“So now what? Do we talk to them?” Exley said.
“Not yet, I think. Tyson will have his people looking for hard evidence on the twelve who meet the criteria that Wen mentioned. Suspicious travel patterns, hidden accounts, the usual. Let’s be a little less formal. I’m going to poke around Langley, play doctor, see what I can pick up.”
“And me?”
“Why don’t you talk to the wives?”
AND SO THIS MORNING EXLEY had pulled on her wedding band and prepared to make a tour of suburban Virginia and Maryland. She was aiming first at the five names on both lists. She didn’t know how many wives would be home, but she figured at least a couple. And she knew claiming she was on a house-hunt would get her inside their houses. Amazing how freely bored women would talk to a friendly stranger.
No one had been home at her first stop, in Fairfax. But this time she’d scored, if the Jetta in the driveway was any indication. She parked her green Caravan by the edge of the road and hopped out.
A flagstone path cut through the neatly manicured lawn. Rosebushes added a touch of color to the front of the yellow house. She stepped over a battered Big Wheel and pressed the doorbell. Inside the house she heard a toddler crying.
“Coming.” A woman opened the door a notch and peeked out. She was pretty, late thirties, carrying a baby on her hip. “Mom mom mom!” a boy squalled from upstairs.
“Hi,” she said, friendly but wary, the classic suburban combination, trying to figure out if Exley was a Jehovah’s Witness or an Avon saleswoman or just a neighbor. People moved to Vienna so they wouldn’t have to worry about strangers knocking on their doors.
“Sorry to bother you,” Exley said. “My name’s Joanne.” She was going with an alias, in case the woman mentioned this visit to her husband. “I was looking at the Colonial up the block and I’m hoping to find out about the neighborhood and I saw your car in the driveway.”
The woman looked uncertain. “I thought they’d accepted an offer.”
“They’re still showing it.”
“Mommy, come here!” the invisible boy yelled.
“Well… if you don’t mind watching me change a diaper, I’ll give you the rundown. My name’s Kellie, by the way.” She extended a hand. She was glad to have some company, Exley thought.
“Nice to meet you.”
“HE’S BEAUTIFUL,” EXLEY said of the blue-eyed, red-faced little boy holding on to the safety gate that blocked the stairs.
“Isn’t he? Name’s Jonah. But he’s got a temper.” She picked him up. “Come on, J. No more crying. We’ll get you fixed up.”
“They all cry at that age,” Exley said. “I’ve got two of my own. Trust me, they grow out of it.”
In Jonah’s bedroom, Exley watched as Kellie changed the diaper with one hand while soothing the baby with the other. Already, Exley knew that this woman had mastered the chores of parenting in a way Exley never had. She couldn’t explain why she needed ten minutes to change a diaper, but she did. She never doubted that she would take a bullet for her kids. But she had to admit that she hadn’t been cut out for the daily grind of chasing them around, wiping up their snot, making them paper bag lunches for school.
Lots of women loved that part of being moms, or at least said they did. Maybe they were right. Maybe those chores were essential to building a lifelong relationship with kids. But Exley couldn’t lie to herself. She’d been desperate to get back to work after four months of maternity leave.
Now as she watched Kellie wipe off Jonah’s butt and pull on a clean diaper, she wondered: If she had another chance, could she be different? She and Wells? She didn’t know if she could imagine Wells as a father, though of course he was one already. He’d had a son with Heather, his ex-wife, just before he went to Afghanistan to infiltrate al Qaeda. But Wells saw the boy — Evan — only a couple of times a year. Not that he had much say in the matter. Heather, who had sole custody of Evan, was remarried and lived in Montana. She said that Evan had accepted his stepfather as his real dad and she didn’t want to confuse the boy by giving him too much time with Wells.
Maybe having another child would settle Wells, Exley thought. Or maybe not. He had so many days when he didn’t get along with the world, when he reminded Exley of a barely domesticated guard dog, half German shepherd, half wolf. But even at his an griest, Wells was sweet to her kids, sweet to kids in general. And kids loved him for his size and strength. What kind of father would he be with a boy of his own? Somehow Exley knew that she and Wells would have a boy. Though the truth was that the odds were against her getting pregnant at all.
Kellie finished putting on Jonah’s clean white diaper and ran a soothing hand over his face. “Pretty soon you’ll be a big boy and no more diapers.”
“No diapers!” Jonah yelled happily.
Kellie looked sidelong at Exley. “So what do you do, Joanne?”
“Me? I’m a consultant.” The word consultant was vague enough to mean anything, and boring enough that no one cared anyway.
“I used to be a lawyer,” Kellie said. “Then one day I woke up and I was this.”
“You’re great at it, though.”
“When the little one gets to preschool, I’m going back to work. Of course, Eddie — that’s my husband — wants one more, but I told him unless he figures out a way to get himself pregnant, that’s not happening. Come on downstairs and let’s have coffee.”
“I wish I could have stayed at home for a while,” Exley lied. “We couldn’t figure out a way to afford it, though. Is your husband a lawyer too?”
“No. He works for the government. But we saved up when I was working and we’re pretty careful. How about yours?”
“My husband? He works for the government too. Not too far from here. Maybe they’re in the same business.”
“Sounds that way.” CIA wives liked to hint that their husbands worked at Langley. Proof that the agency hadn’t completely lost its mystique, Exley supposed.
Kellie pulled up Jonah’s pants. Now that he didn’t have a full diaper, he was pretty well behaved, Exley thought. Cute too. “You sweetie,” she said to him. “What’s your favorite thing to do in the world?”