Deadly Contact. Lara Lacombe

leaned forward and uncapped his pen. “What’s up?”

      Carmichael pulled a folder off the top of a precariously balanced stack of papers on the corner of his desk. “We got the lab report back from the science guys. They’ve identified the bacteria and have started characterizing the modifications.”

      “Tell me we have something,” James said, feeling a surge of adrenaline at the possibility. He’d been working this case for weeks without a break, and he was exhausted and out of leads.

      Carmichael’s smile was pure satisfaction. “We do.”

      James grinned, his annoyance with Mrs. Gerard fading in the face of this good news. This could be the information he needed to break the case wide open.

      Carmichael passed the lab report across his desk, and James took a moment to skim the printout. It was full of scientific jargon, which immediately made him think of Kelly. She’d know just how to translate these findings into plain English. He felt a pang of longing and regret, and firmly pushed thoughts of her out of his mind.

      He had tried to get in touch with her a few days after their encounter, but she’d never returned his calls. It was clear she wanted nothing to do with him, so he’d left her alone. He wasn’t going to chase her down and demand an explanation, but he couldn’t deny her actions had stung. This was not the time to think of her, though, not when things were finally starting to look up.

      “There are only four labs in the country that work with this particular strain of bacteria,” Carmichael said, his voice interrupting James’s musings.

      “Three of them are on the West Coast,” James murmured. “But the last one...this one is local,” he said, looking up at Carmichael. “Do we think this is a neighborhood job?”

      “Yes. The guy who runs the lab has been conveniently out of town for the past couple of weeks, which is pretty suspicious. We’ve sent field agents in California to check out the other labs, but I think this is our guy. I want you to head over there this afternoon.”

      “Since the guy is out of town, is there anyone in particular we need to talk to?”

      Carmichael nodded. “Yeah, there’s a postdoctoral fellow in the lab who seems to run things. A doctor.” He shuffled through some more papers, pulling out a Post-it note and squinting at the writing. “Dr. Jarvis. Bring him in for questioning.”

      James sucked in a breath, his stomach dropping. “Dr. Jarvis? Dr. Kelly Jarvis?”

      Carmichael frowned and checked the note again. “Don’t know about the Kelly part, but yeah, Dr. K. Jarvis. Do you know her?” He raised narrowed eyes, and James fought to keep a neutral expression on his face.

      “If it’s Kelly Jarvis, then yes, I know her. We used to be friends.” What the hell had she gotten herself into? The Kelly he knew would never participate in something like this, but maybe she’d changed in the past few months.

      He sucked in a breath as a new thought hit him. Was that why she’d left? So he wouldn’t discover her involvement? He gritted his teeth as he reevaluated their encounter in a new, ugly light. You deserve better than me, she had said before leaving. Was that her guilt talking?

      “Used to be? What happened?” Carmichael’s question snapped him back to the present.

      James deliberately relaxed his jaw, hoping the other man hadn’t noticed his agitation. If Carmichael thought there was something personal between him and Kelly, he’d yank him from the case. He hadn’t worked this long and hard to be benched in the final stages of the investigation.

      He shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “We just fell out of touch,” he explained, hoping Carmichael wouldn’t press for more details. It was mostly true—after that night, they hadn’t spoken again.

      “At this time, she doesn’t appear to be involved.”

      James felt a swell of relief, and some of his anger faded. It must have showed on his face, because Carmichael studied him intently for a beat. “If there is a conflict of interest here, I need to know about it now.”

      James shook his head before the other man had finished talking. “No. No conflict at all. Like I said, we used to be friends, but we’re not now. Hell, that may even help us. Since she knows me already, she’ll probably be more likely to talk to me.”

      Carmichael nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe. But if something comes up, I want to know about it. I won’t have this investigation put in jeopardy.”

      “I understand.” James stood, wanting to leave and compose his thoughts before bringing Kelly in for questioning.

      “Reynolds.”

      He stopped at the door and turned back.

      “You’ve done a great job on this investigation so far,” Carmichael began, sounding a little uncertain.

      James frowned. What was he trying to say?

      “Thank you, sir.”

      Carmichael nodded. “You’re a great agent, and I know part of what drives you is your...family history,” he finished delicately.

      James drew up his shoulders, waiting to see where Carmichael was going with this. Why the hell was his boss bringing up the subject of his father?

      “What I’m saying is, if you have to withdraw from this investigation for personal reasons, I’ll understand. You’ve already proven yourself to me, and I don’t want to risk this case in any way.”

      James met his gaze, resisting the urge to tell the other man to go to hell. Bobby Reynolds had tarnished the family name by taking bribes and botching investigations for the highest bidder, but James would never risk a case—he wasn’t his father. “I understand, sir,” James said stiffly. “I’ll be back with Dr. Jarvis in about an hour.”

      Carmichael looked as if he wanted to say more, but he settled for a nod. “I’ll let the rest of the team know.”

      James left the office and walked to the men’s room, which was blessedly empty. He splashed water on his face and swallowed a handful; the cool liquid relaxed the tight muscles of his throat. What kind of mess was Kelly in? And more important, did she even know, or was she truly innocent in all of it?

      He blotted his face dry with a square of paper towel. Up until five minutes ago, he would have sworn Kelly didn’t have it in her to fall in league with a terrorist group. But if history had taught him anything, it was that people weren’t always who they seemed to be. His father, his friend Steve...both of them seemingly good people who had made all the wrong choices. Was he going to have to add Kelly to that list?

      He glanced in the mirror and straightened his tie, then brushed his hair back into place. He looked calm and professional, his outer image at odds with the emotional turmoil this new lead had created. He had worked hard to put his disappointment and anger toward his father behind him, and he hated that it had popped up again after a few words from his boss. Get it together.

      He was too close to breaking open the case to let his emotions get the better of him now.

      * * *

      Kelly pushed away from the microscope and stretched, arching her back as she reached up to massage her aching neck. She had been looking at slides most of the day, and although it was only two in the afternoon, she was heading home early. Two weeks of burning the candle at both ends had caught up with her, and she was exhausted.

      She switched off the microscope and began gathering up her slides as thoughts of a hot bubble bath and a glass of wine danced in her head. It wouldn’t be the same as drinks with James, but it would do in a pinch.

      She shook her head as a pang of longing hit, the way it always did when she thought of James. She missed him, missed their regular Friday night conversations. More than that, though, she missed his friendship.

      Not for the first time, she regretted walking out on him five months ago. The irony of it all was that