met her father’s. “I’ll have it.”
Ceci leaned forward. “Have what, Dar? What the heck were they doing?”
An almost introspective look crossed Dar’s face. “Laundering money,” she answered simply. “Millions and millions of dollars, funneled from the sale of contraband and government property.”
Jaws dropped.
“You mean to tell me,” Kerry finally said, “they used the government’s own computer systems to do that?”
Dar nodded. “Feel better about your tax refund?”
Kerry covered her eyes with one hand and groaned.
“Jesus P. Fish,” Andrew blurted.
“Well,” Ceci murmured. “And here I thought maybe you’d found the truth about Roswell.”
Dar shrugged modestly. “Want me to audit there next?”
KERRY PUT THE piece of paper down on her desk and dropped into her chair, leaning forward and resting her head in her hands.
What a day. She scrubbed her face wearily. It was Thursday, Dar’s first day back; and her lover had spent the entire time since seven that morning holed up in the MIS command center, sequestered in a quiet, plain office around the corner from Mark’s, refusing to take a break even though Kerry could plainly see she badly needed one. She’d taken off her arm sling, and by the very messiness of the dark locks framing her face, it was obvious she’d been running her fingers through her hair.
Always a sign of frustration, Kerry knew.
So here she was, about to order in a pile of Thai food in hopes that, at least, would get her boss to kick back for a few minutes and relax.
Kerry reread the order, making sure she’d gotten everything down, and quickly typed it into a fax form, which she sent on its way.
To be fair, Dar had been exceedingly good for three days. She’d kept her promise and remained resting at home, though by halfway through Wednesday, she was already prowling around the island and spending a couple of hours swimming in the heated pool.
Her headaches had disappeared, and she’d started to use her arm, careful not to overstress the shoulder joint. They’d gone out on the boat the night before and had dinner under the stars, and Dar had remained alert the entire time; in fact, she’d ended up driving the boat back after Kerry had fallen asleep on the bow.
The pressure from Washington was getting critical, though.
General Easton had called twice, each time reporting the minor issues the security team had found and the fact that he was under a lot of pressure to back off the project entirely.
Someone had gotten annoyed, it seemed, that a private company 318 Melissa Good was prying into military affairs. If they didn’t come up with something more significant than fouled-up accounting and some black-market supplies, the entire contract was in jeopardy.
So, despite the fact that Kerry thought the enforced rest was doing her partner a lot of good, she had to admit she’d been glad to have that tall form pacing at her side when she’d entered the building that morning.
When the phone rang, Kerry glared at it for a moment, then hit the answer button. “Operations. Kerry Stuart speaking.”
“Good evening, Ms. Stuart.” Alastair’s voice was cordial.
“Evening, sir,” Kerry replied. “How’s Texas doing?”
“About the same as it usually is, this time of year,” Alastair replied.
“Getting on to Christmas.”
“Yeah.” Kerry perked up a little. “And close to Dar’s birthday.” She leaned forward. “You’re going to send her a card, right?”
A little chuckle came down the line. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll get a few of those. So, how are things there?”
Kerry sighed. “Slow going,” she admitted. “Dar’s been at it all day, and to be honest, what she’s doing looks like so much hex gibberish to me.”
Alastair sighed as well. “Kerrison, Dar’s been hex gibberish to 90
percent of this company for fifteen years, so don’t feel bad.” He paused.
“I’m getting a lot of pressure on this.”
“Mm.”
“It’s not that anyone doubts what we did, but I got a call from the JAG’s office today. They’re considering filing a reckless endangerment lawsuit against us.”
Kerry glared at the phone. “Those pissants.”
The CEO chuckled dryly.
“I mean it,” Kerry replied. “They know something’s wrong there, and they’re just covering their friends’ starched olive very drab butts.”
“Y’know, I think some of your shyness is disappearing,” Alastair commented. “Must be Dar rubbing off on you.”
“I’m not shy,” Kerry reminded him. “I told Dar to kiss my ass, remember?”
“And she certainly did tak—” Alastair stopped abruptly. “Good heavens! I beg your pardon, Ms. Stuart.”
Kerry blinked, also a little startled at the retort. “Uh, that’s okay,”
she told him. “I kind of opened myself up for that, didn’t I?”
Alastair chuckled. “I try to be good,” he said. “Anyway, as I said, I’m under a lot of pressure, here, Kerry.” He turned serious again.
“They want a meeting tomorrow in Washington. I’m going to have Hamilton get hold of that JAG officer and shake him up a little, but I’d really rather not go into the meeting, ah...”
“In nothing but your boxers?” Kerry asked.
“He wears briefs,” Dar’s voice burred. “White cotton ones.” She Red Sky At Morning 319
closed the door to Kerry’s office and walked over to the desk, hitching up the leg on her khaki cargo pants before she sat down on the edge.
“Hello, Alastair.”
“Ah. Hello, Dar,” the CEO replied. “Good to hear your voice.”
One of Dar’s dark brows lifted. “Why, you been listening to Eleanor again?”
“The Navy wants to sue us for reckless endangerment,” Kerry told her.
A chuckle. “Oh, really?” Dar leaned on her good arm and addressed the phone. “Who did a bunch of unarmed IS workers endanger, Alastair?”
“I don’t know. I’m having Ham handle it,” her boss said. “Listen, Dar, I know you’ve been on this all day, but what’s the word? Do we have something or not?”
“Alastair, this isn’t an Internet search,” Dar answered, a touch testily. “It’s a fifty-gigabyte drive array that I’m having to reconstruct in hex, sector by sector.”
There was a reverent silence following this pronouncement, as everyone gave the information its due respect.
“And?” Alastair asked briskly.
Dar sighed, and rubbed her eyes. “I’m not done,” she said. “But so far, so good.”
Kerry got up and walked around the desk. She put her arms around Dar and gave her a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You are so my hero,” she whispered in her lover’s ear. “Can I be you when I grow up?”
Dar blushed, her tanned skin darkening appreciably. “I can’t promise anything,” she muttered.
Alastair chortled. “Will you let me know tomorrow? They want me on the carpet first thing Friday morning in DC.”
“I said, I can’t promise anything,” Dar repeated. Alastair remained prudently silent. Kerry gazed confidently at her. Dar sighed. “I’ll call you tomorrow after lunch.”
“Right. Have a great night, Dar,” the CEO agreed. “Night, Kerrison; nice talking to you.”
Dar released the line and gave Kerry a look. “One of these days, I’m not going to be able to deliver him the River Nile in a coffee cup, and we’re going to be totally screwed.”