Confidential [ON HOLD]

3. The Secrets in Skeletons

The probability of (prior) FBI Operative C.J, dying or heading to her immediate death was undeniably very high.

C.J was sitting in a car with Benjamin Braxton who refused to maintain the speed limits and drove like there was nobody else on the road. According to him, every minute they wasted, the more time Colby Simpson would have to escape.

Her hand was latched to the heater on the car dashboard. Benjamin refused to unlock the handcuffs because he was sure she would take the first opportunity to hit him. At least he wasn't wrong about that.

Benjamin started to slow down soon when they reached a familiar road. They hadn't been in the car for too long but every second with Benjamin felt like time was stretching out and testing C.J's patience. He wouldn't respond to any of her questions and refused to turn on the radio to fill the silence. He insisted that the radio would distract him from thinking about the case. When the vehicle started to come to a stop, he told her that they were here. She shifted in her seat. The handcuffs stopped her hands from moving too far. She jerked the chain in frustration and groaned. "Might I ask, where exactly is here?"

He didn't answer her question, instead pulling the key from the ignition and stepping outside the car. He came to her side of the car and opened the door. He reached for his shoe and pulled the key out. A bitter smile spread on her face. "How chivalrous of you, Benjamin."

He freed the metal link from the ventilator and pulled the chain towards him. He smirked as he grasped her wrist and latched the handcuff to his wrist. They were handcuffed together once again. "Don't be so quick to judge, C.J."

She was pulled out of her seat as he closed the door behind them. She glared at the back of his head. She wanted to hit him. He wasn't facing her and didn't look alert. She could easily kick him in the bend behind his knee and he would collapse to the ground. But that wouldn't be smart. They were handcuffed together and so pushing him down, would mean falling along with him.

And her cover would be blown. She mentally scoffed. The things she had to do for Colby Simpson.

"You know, C.J," Benjamin said, mischievously. He turned to face her, "I can feel when you want to hit me. I know your skills were minimum, but you're losing your touch. I can see why the FBI may not want you anymore."

He was trying to rile her up but she was far from annoyed. She wanted to laugh at his assumption that she was still in the FBI as a field agent. But she turned her head to the neighborhood Benjamin had brought them in. "Where are we?"

C.J knew they weren't far from Virginia, but she didn't recognize the quiet neighborhood they were in. There was a line of houses, with their green lawns freshly cut. Unique shrubs and trees were planted across the lawns. The whole scene looked like where retired couples settled after all their kids had left the house.

Benjamin looked down at her, "you don't know?"

"I wouldn't be asking you if I knew," she deadpanned.

They were climbing the stairs of the house porch when she noticed the wooden plate at the side of the door. Her eyes snapped to him as the corners of his lips twitched. "How do you know where he lives? He made sure to get rid of all records. He didn't even tell me."

Benjamin nodded, his grin widening. "That is just another reason why I, am a better agent than you."

He knocked on the door and waited. Soon a man in his early-sixties opened the door. When he saw who was standing in front of him, he groaned. "I can never get away from you pesky FBI brats, can I?"

Despite his age and recent retirement he still looked ready to face any challenge thrown his way. He wore a navy blue sweater and gray pants. His peppered hair was slowly fading from black to entirely gray. His voice still held the comforting tone he had always spoken with.