Page 18 of Lock ’N’ Load

Matt shook his head. “Nothing I know of.”

Buck made another notation. “As long as there’s no connection to agency business, there shouldn’t be any fallout from this. After the meeting, I’ll notify Ms. Gold’s supervisor about the report.”

Matt winced inwardly, hoping Trista didn’t catch too much heat.

As the meeting went on, they discussed other security matters, including that stupid kid who’d tried to barrel through the checkpoint to impress his friends. The idiot would probably get off with a warning.

As Buck passed out the coming week’s schedule, Matt’s thoughts drifted back to last night. There were too many unanswered questions. Including why he’d insisted on her having his personal cell phone number. It made him feel better knowing she had it. Until this thing with her attacker was figured out, he couldn’t shake the protective urges welling up inside him. Not that he had any delusions of heroism. But he and Sheba had saved her life, and now he felt somewhat responsible for her.

As they filed out of the conference room, Mark Waters and the other K-9 handlers clapped Matt on the shoulder.

“Your damsel’s not gonna like you much after today,” Waters said.

Yeah, no shit.

Matt put Sheba up in her office kennel, then headed for the locker room. The idea of Trista being angry with him—or anyone else, for that matter—was unlikely. She was so shy and demure, he doubted she had an angry bone in her body.

Chapter Five

“You’re what?” Trista stared at Wayne Gurgas, her boss and the deputy chief of the Strategic Programs Section.

“Revoking your security clearance.” Wayne leaned over and flipped off the switch on her computer.

The room went deathly silent as Bonnie and Kevin stopped whatever they were doing to listen. The sound of her computer shutting down was like a gunshot to Trista’s heart. Biting back a scream, she widened her eyes, gripping the armrests of her chair. She stared at the blank screen, then shifted her eyes back to Wayne. “You can’t do that,” she whispered, paralyzed by shock, barely able to speak.

“I can, and I did.” Wayne crossed his arms, hiking up the sleeves of his suit jacket. “I’m sorry, Trista. The head of security just notified Genevieve and I”—he nodded to his assistant section chief, Genevieve Grujot, who stood beside him—“and the decision is final. Until we can verify the attack on you last night has no connection to agency business, your clearance is revoked.”

Regaining her wits, Trista stood, fisting her hands. This can’t be happening. Her entire world was imploding before her eyes. “If my clearance is revoked, I can’t do anything on the computer or online. I can’t run Dark Curtain or find Karakurt again.” Though she’d been searching for him since the moment she’d arrived that morning. “I might as well not come to work at all.”

“Exactly.” Wayne gave a curt nod. “Until this is figured out, consider yourself on paid vacation. You’ve got half an hour to gather your things and go home. Langley security will stay in touch with police regarding the attack.”

“Is this because I didn’t file an incident report? I’m sorry, I’ll do it right now if it will help.” She knew it wouldn’t. It was too late for that.

“At this point,” Wayne said, “that’s not necessary. We read about what happened in the police report and Sgt. Connors’s report.”

“Sgt. Connors’s report?” Last night she’d told him she would take care of it. Looks like he’d gone behind her back and filed one of his own.

Wearing a sympathetic expression, Genevieve walked around Trista’s desk and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure this will all be resolved soon, and then you can return to your assignments. For now, go home. Enjoy the free time. None of this is a reflection on you.”

The hell it isn’t.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. True, she had concerns about filing the report, but she never really believed this could happen. Not to her. It wasn’t like Wayne and Genevieve to take such drastic action without consulting her first.

Wayne uncrossed his arms and pointed at her. “I expect to see you checking out of here within the next thirty minutes.”

“But—” Her body began to tremble as the enormity of what had just happened sank in.

“No buts, Trista.” Wayne turned and headed to the door. “I don’t want to hear anymore. Just leave. I mean it. Thirty minutes, and I want you gone.”

With a sudden spurt of desperation, Trista rounded her desk, pushing past Genevieve, stopping Wayne before he could leave. “Please, don’t do this. I have to work. If I can’t work, I’ll—” She couldn’t say the words. I’ll be nothing.

Wayne opened his mouth, then closed it. A glimmer of something she couldn’t identify came to his eyes, but then he yanked open the door and left without another word.

Again, Genevieve’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. “This will all be over soon. You’ll be back at work in no time.” Then she turned and followed Wayne.

As Trista watched the door close behind Genevieve, tears pricked her eyes, irritating the contact lenses she’d been forced to wear.

“Aw, honey.” Bonnie guided Trista back to her desk, forcing her into her chair.