Free The Whole Truth (The Supercharged Files Book 1) by Jody Wallace Page B

sprawl. It hardly compared to Chicago as far
as urban or sprawl was concerned, but John assured me Music City wasn’t as
congested and crime-riddled as the Windy City. Or as cold.
    “What’s that building?” I pointed
at the skyscraper topped by the notable earpieces. It and several blockier
buildings made up the otherwise undistinguished cityscape.
    “The AT&T Tower.” John
navigated the interstate and the conversation with business-like aplomb. It
wasn’t what I’d expected after our flirting last night. I didn’t know whether
to be disappointed or relieved, since it was often a bad idea to get involved
with coworkers.
    Especially when you hadn’t had a
chance to pick favorites.
    Lights blinked at the tips of the
‘ears’ as we passed the building. “It looks like Batman.” It had to mean
something that, in this hub of supra activity, a major communications company
had constructed an ode to Bruce Wayne’s alter ego in lieu of an office
building.
    “We get that a lot.”
    Ok, it meant I was unoriginal.
“That’s not where your real secret hide-out is, huh?”
    John sort of smiled. “It’s not
behind a clock tower, either. There’s the site in Nolensville and the site
downtown. That’s it. A number of us telecommute, and our more sensitive
employees maintain home offices.”
    In some ways, sensitive could
describe me—it was an effort to swallow so many lies every day. “Could I get a
home office?”
    “We need you in house.”
    “Of course.” I sighed. “I have a
villain to unearth. I could grow to hate that part of being me.” Like I didn’t
already.
    “Cleo,” John said, concern
coloring his tones, “it’s who you are. Don’t hate yourself. As soon as you find
our problem, you can just be a consultant. You’ll be great at that.”
    “I’ll try.” It wasn’t me who
hated me, it was usually everyone else. If it came to light I’d been
investigating my peers for however long it took me, how would they feel?
    I know how I’d feel. Pretty damn
deceived, which was ironic because I deceived everyone on a daily basis.
    Luckily I’d have a few
acquaintances who knew what I could do, which was more than I’d had three days
ago. Perhaps it would be enough. John and I had spoken easily about YuriCorp,
the supra community, and where the best shopping in Nashville was, which I
pretended only a moderate interest in. Nothing drives a potential boyfriend
away faster than revealing your adoration of the mall too soon.
    “Let’s take the alternate route.”
John downshifted off the interstate, cutting through a residential area. “You
could go this way if there was construction or a wreck.”
    A little glimmer of dishonesty,
noteworthy in its rarity, hovered around him. If this wasn’t an alternate
route, what was he doing?
    Hiding the fact I’d seen him lie,
I asked, “Will I work downtown?”
    “It’s not likely they’re our
problem. They don’t have access to the data getting out of YuriCorp.” He seemed
confident, but a person could be convinced of something that turned out to be
untrue.
    The landscape shifted from urban
to suburban. “All of this used to be farmland,” he said. The developments on
either side of us boasted large, stately homes. Interspersed between the
neighborhoods were tracts of land for sale. We reached an intersection, and
John chose the new highway. It gave way to more farmland with larger homes in
the distance.
    Not that I objected to extended
time with him, but this couldn’t be mistaken for a logical re-routing of
interstate traffic. “This doesn’t look like Nolensville.”
    “It will.” John cleared his
throat. “Nolensville is where we do the majority of our testing, experiments
and supra training. It’s also where we track new supras. That information is
tightly safeguarded, and that’s part of what’s leaking out.”
    I studied the white picket fence
on the side of the highway until it blurred into a white smear. “You don’t
share what you