Staying Retired

Something, some movement, caught the corner of my eye through the expanse of glass across the back of the house, out toward the sea, as I reached the first-floor landing. I moved silently over to the corner of the glass. Yes, two of them. Sent by Cleland? Did he sense that I was close to a discovery and was making my decision for me? Back to the front of the house, peeking out of the window in Bates’ room. Two more. Two black SUVs out on the road—the road that went no farther along the top of the cliff than to this house, selected because of the privacy it provided. Two SUVs. More than was needed by four. Where were the others? Already in the house? Had I put the computer to sleep, or was what I had been working on there available for anyone to see?

I moved, as silently as I could, to the second floor. The bedroom to the right at the top of the stairs—where I should go to get dressed. Nakedness was vulnerability. The study door to the left. Should I transfer the file to the cloud and delete it from the computer first? Priorities. I turned left and stopped in the doorway to the study.

“Long time, Evan. You’re looking good. Keeping in good shape. About got the Eye of God connection established, I see.”

Jackson. Sitting at my computer, smiling—no, smirking—at me. I should have known. My mind was trying to tell me that. But something larger than just this, just Jackson finding me. I had to be wary. And I had to control myself. Jackson was Jackson. Always had been; always would be. Must control myself. Mustn’t show his hold over me. Very difficult to do in the nude.

“What are you doing here, Jackson?”

“I’ve come to ask you to come back. We need you in the unit.”