The Last Drop of Loyalty

The rain slicked Seattle streets reflected neon like spilled watercolor as Marcus crouched behind the dumpster, camera trained on the apartment building across the alley. Three weeks of surveillance, and he still didn't know if he was more disgusted with himself or with the woman who'd hired him—his own boss, Victoria, who'd sent him to dig up dirt on her ex-husband's new fiancée.

A dog barked somewhere nearby, cutting through the drum of rain. Marcus adjusted his grip on the telephoto lens. His knee throbbed where he'd taken a bullet in Istanbul five years ago, back when being a spy had meant something more noble than corporate espionage.

Then he saw her: Elena, emerging from the building with a golden retriever on a frayed leash. She paused at the edge of a puddle, cupping her hands to catch water from a leaking gutter, letting the dog drink from her palms. Something about the tenderness of the gesture twisted in Marcus's chest.

She looked directly at his hiding spot.

Marcus froze. But she wasn't looking at him—she was looking past him, at the woman who stepped from the shadows. Victoria.

"You're photographing a woman who lets stray dogs drink from her hands," Victoria said, not bothering to lower her voice. "What did you think you'd find?"

Marcus stood slowly, water dripping from his coat. "What did you hire me to find?"

"I needed to know if she was real." Victoria's voice cracked. "If this was worth losing him."

The dog, finished drinking, padded over to Victoria and nudged her hand. She looked down, then sank to her knees in the rain, burying her fingers in the wet fur. Elena approached quietly and stood beside her.

"He told me about you," Elena said softly. "You're the one who couldn't commit to anything but the job."

"I'm the one who's still committed to the job." Victoria looked at Marcus. "That's why I hired him. He's what I become."

Marcus packed his camera. He'd been hired to expose weakness, but all he'd found was the mirror image of his own hollow life. The rain kept falling, washing away nothing.

"The dog's name is River," Elena said.

Of course it was, Marcus thought. Water always found its level. Tonight, his had bottomed out.