Page 152 of The Lonely Road

He walks toward her. Joy sidesteps them both and comes to stand with me.

“Would it be an invasion of privacy if I recorded this?” she muses.

“We can’t do that to Bree,” I say, with genuine regret, because this would be a video for the ages.

We’re not the only ones watching.

Main Street was going about its business, but within approximately ninety seconds, seven people had found reasons to be near the general vicinity of Kaz Chase and Bree Keaton, having a conversation at volume on the sidewalk outside my office.

“She could’ve done this discreetly,” I murmur.

“But that isn’t who Bree is,” Joy protests. “And this way we get something fun to watch.”

We can’t hear what Kaz says to Bree, but we see him put his hands on her shoulders, which she shoves off.

“You lied to me,” she yells.

His shoulders slump as he steps back. “Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Since the beginning.”

She takes a breath. I can feel her horror at realizing she doesn’t fully know the man she’s been in love with for years. But it’s also clear now why Kaz has been keeping her at arm’s length. How do you be with someone when you can’t tell them the truth about yourself?

“How could you, Kaz?”

“It was my job, Honey Bee.”

Joy and I look at each other and silently mouth: Honey Bee?

“What else did you lie about?” Bree demands, her voice rising.

“About why I was here,” Kaz says calmly. “About some of what I do. About who I work for.”

“You’ve always—since the beginning?”

“Since you and I met after Frank died. Yes.”

“And the whole software thing?” Bree demands.

“That was my company. After I sold it, I joined the…,” he trails off.

She waits and when he doesn’t say anything, she demands, “Joined the what?”

Kaz glances at the gathering audience. “Bree⁠—”

“Don’t you Bree me. Who do you work for?”

“The FBI.” He lets out a long sigh. “For another few weeks. I have officially resigned.”

The small crowd processes this.

“I knew it,” exclaims Pete Rikowski, who was shopping at the feed store and still has a bag of feed in his hand.

“I thought movie actor,” says Birdie Lorraine, who runs the Wildflower Canyon Book Club at the library.

“I had CIA spy in the pool,” Janine from the Horseshoe mutters in disappointment.