Serious Risks. Rachel Lee

      Serious Risks

      Rachel Lee

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      RACHEL LEE

      wrote her first play in the third grade for a school assembly, and by the age of twelve she was hooked on writing. She’s lived all over the United States and now resides in Florida. Having held jobs as a security officer, real-estate agent and optician, she uses these experiences, as well as her natural flair for creativity, to write stories that are undeniably romantic. Rachel Lee has garnered numerous industry awards, including an RT Book Reviews award for Best Series Romance and Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense, as well as landing a Romance Writers of America RITA^® Award nomination.

      For

       Markey—who believed Gil—who is my hero Bob—who shored me up when I got scared Aaron—who is my biggest fan Heather—who shares my excitement And All the men and women who perform the thankless task of protecting the nation’s security. I feel privileged to have worked with you.

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 1

      “Somebody stole a classified document from my safe last night.”

      The breathless, nervous claim over the telephone brought Special Agent Arlen Coulter upright in his chair and banished every other thought from his head. A perfectly routine afternoon of reviewing case reports from his agents lost the last vestige of ordinariness. Swiftly reaching across his desk, he pulled over a legal pad and a pen.

      “What’s your name?” he asked the woman. “And where are you calling from?”

      “My name is Jessica Kilmer, and I’m calling from a pay phone on the interstate.”

      “Give me the number in case we get disconnected.” He made her recite it twice to be sure he got it right. In the background he could hear the whiz and roar of the late-afternoon traffic. “Okay, Ms. Kilmer,” he said. “Tell me about it.”

      There was a shuddery breath from the other end of the phone. “I work for MTI—Military Technologies, Inc. We do a lot of defense work.”

      “I’m familiar with MTI,” Arlen said. Indeed he was. MTI ranked as the area’s second-largest defense contractor. “Go on, ma’am.”

      “Someone took a classified document from my safe during the night,” she repeated unsteadily, as if she couldn’t quite believe her own words. “I’m the only one who has the combination, except for the copy that security keeps in their vault.”

      Arlen leaned forward tensely. Possibilities were already flitting through his head, not the least of them that this was a crank call. In the past he had worked in counterintelligence in the Washington, D.C., area, so he knew just how common espionage was. Nevertheless, this was the first hint of it that he had gotten during his entire six years in Austin, Texas. Still, the woman knew things that only someone engaged in classified work would know, such as the fact that security would have the only other combination to a classified safe. “You’re sure the document is missing?”

      “Oh, yes.” She expelled the words on another unsteady breath. “I went through every folder in the safe, in case it was misfiled.”

      “It couldn’t have been left out by accident?” Arlen kept his voice calm, nonaccusatory. Once a witness was put on the defensive, you could forget any hope of getting a straight story.

      “No. I haven’t had it out of the safe in several weeks. It was there last night when I filed the document that comes just before it. I know it was there!”

      The rising tone of her voice conveyed her frustration and concern as no words could have. Arlen felt a small twinge of sympathy for her, but he put it firmly aside. He couldn’t afford to allow his mind or his judgment to be clouded by sympathy.

      “I believe you, Ms. Kilmer,” he said soothingly. “Have you told anyone else about the theft?”

      “I reported it to security,” she answered, and now her tone was indignant. “They’re insisting I must have mislaid it or misfiled it or loaned it to someone, because I’m the only one with the combination to the safe. That’s the whole point, and they’re missing it. That’s why I’m calling you! The point is, someone opened that safe last night. Someone else has the combination!”

      Arlen didn’t need to have the ramifications of that statement spelled out. If someone else had the combination, there was no telling how often that person had gained access to Jessica Kilmer’s safe. There was no way to know how many other safes at MTI this supposed spy might have combinations for, or how often he might have invaded them. Or how many classified documents he might have stolen, photographed, copied—the list of potential abuses was catastrophic.

      Arlen addressed Jessica Kilmer. “Are you going back to work?”

      She gave a shaky, mirthless laugh. “Hardly. By the time they got through grilling me and insinuating that I have the IQ of an insect, I had a splitting headache. I’m going home.”

      “Just a few more questions, Ms. Kilmer, if you’re up to it.”

      “Yes, of course.”

      “Does anyone know you’re calling the FBI? The security people at your company, perhaps?”

      “No, no one knows.” Jessica Kilmer sighed heavily. Even over the phone, her weariness and frustration were apparent to Arlen. “The security people aren’t planning to tell anyone about this just yet. They’re evidently convinced that the report will show up and that they’ll be able to explain the whole thing in some fashion that won’t reflect badly on them or the company.”

      “And you don’t believe that.”

      “How can I? I know that document was there when I locked my safe last night, and I know it was gone when I opened it this morning. There’s no way that can be explained as carelessness or an accident.”

      No, indeed, Arlen thought. He glanced at his watch and noted that it was nearly five. “Ms. Kilmer, we need to discuss this in more detail. Can we get together somewhere this evening, say a restaurant?”

      There was a brief, hesitant silence. “Wouldn’t it be more convenient for you if I came to your office?”

      Arlen couldn’t suppress a smile, and he was sure she must be able to hear it in his voice. “There’s no question it would be more convenient, Ms. Kilmer, but until we get some idea of the size of this mess and who might be involved, I don’t want anyone to know you’ve contacted the Bureau. Our offices are in the busiest part of downtown, and there’s always the unwelcome possibility that someone who knows you might see you come in here.”

      “Meeting at a restaurant just seems a little irregular, I guess.”

      He understood her trepidation and tried to tease her out of it. “Believe me, Ms. Kilmer, I’ve questioned people in places that are a lot more irregular than any restaurant could ever be.”

      There was another very brief silence, and then Jessica Kilmer laughed, a genuinely amused sound. When he heard that, Arlen knew he’d taken the first