Declan strode down one aisle of cubicles, calling out, “Delivery for Miss Riley Lansing.”
“She’s not in,” a female voice said. A woman with bleached-blond hair leaned out of her cubicle, took one look at him and smiled. “Maybe I can help you?”
“I have a delivery for Miss Lansing. Do you know when she’ll be back?”
The woman shook her head. “Not a clue. She lit out of here yesterday like her hair was on fire, and I haven’t seen her since.”
“Yesterday?” Declan glanced at the box. “She has to sign off on the delivery. I don’t suppose you know where I can find her?”
The woman shook her head. “No, but maybe I’ll schedule another delivery. Will you be the one to bring it?” She winked at him.
Declan gave her a hint of a smile. “I doubt it. They switch up the drivers,” he said, making it up as he went along.
A man in a polo shirt and dress slacks stepped out of his cubicle. “Are you looking for Riley?” he asked.
“Riley Lansing,” Declan said. “Can you point to where she sits? This box is getting heavy.” It wasn’t, but it was as good an excuse as any to get someone to show him where Riley’s office was.
“She has the office near the back.” The man in the polo shirt pointed to the wall behind him.
Declan strode past the man as if he belonged in the Special Projects area. He’d made it to a cubicle by the back wall with a placard bearing Riley Lansing’s name when the polo shirt guy commented.
“I didn’t know they allowed external deliverymen to bring boxes up here. I thought all packages came from our internal mail-room staff.” He’d followed Declan to Riley’s office.
“They were slammed down there and asked me to bring this up. It was marked urgent on dispatch.”
“I guess it won’t be as urgent, considering she hasn’t bothered to show up today.”
“But she was here yesterday? What, is she out sick or something?” Declan asked casually, setting the box on the floor. He took his time, his gaze scanning Riley’s desktop for clues.
“I didn’t see her, but she was here. Sometimes senior engineers work in the lab. She could have been in there.”
“Are you sure she isn’t in there now?” Declan asked. “Could you check to make sure? I can’t leave the box without her signature.”
Polo-shirt guy frowned. “I’m almost 100 percent sure she’s not in there.”
“Seriously, man. I can’t leave the box without her signature.” Declan raised his eyebrows. “Would you please go check?” And get the heck out of here so I can look through Riley’s desk.
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” The man left.
Declan waited in the aisles until he turned down another corridor and disappeared out of sight.
Making certain no one else was watching, Declan searched Riley’s desktop. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but anything could be a clue. Papers were scattered around the surface as if she’d been working and left in a hurry. A notepad sat by the telephone. The top page was empty, but it had indentations from the person writing the previous note. He took the top page and shoved it into his pocket.
As he straightened, he noticed a shiny silver object on the floor. He bent to retrieve a charm bracelet. This, too, he shoved into his pocket.
“Like I thought, she wasn’t there,” a male voice called out.
Declan hefted the box up off the floor and smiled. “Thanks for checking. I’ll take this back to the mail room. They can deal with it there.”
“I could sign for it, if you like.” The man in the polo shirt held out his hands.
“Sorry, it’s supposed to go to Miss Lansing.” Declan stepped past the man and strode the length of the cubicles, past the woman with the bleached-blond hair and out of the Special Projects area.
As he left the restricted area, two police officers and a security guard stepped off the elevator.
Declan lifted the box higher, blocking his face from view. He passed the group and was stepping onto the elevator when the security guard said, “Hey! You’re not supposed to be up here.”
Declan punched the button for the first floor and the button to close the elevator doors.
The security guard performed an about-face and started toward the elevator, but the doors closed before he could reach it.
Figuring the guard might call his buddies, Declan stopped the elevator on the third floor, punched the second-floor button and then exited. He found a bathroom, where he ditched the box and shucked the uniform shirt. He left the bathroom wearing the button-down cotton shirt he’d had on beneath the uniform.
He strode to the stairwell and walked the last two flights to the ground floor.
Several security guards stood in front of the elevator bank as the door to the elevator Declan had been on opened and a woman stepped out, a frown marring her face as she walked around the guards.
One of the security guards stepped into the elevator as if he might find someone hiding in it.
Declan swallowed a chuckle and walked out of the building and through the gate. No one stopped him or yelled at him to slow down.
He walked slowly, though he wanted to sprint to the parking lot to make certain Grace was safe. As he neared where he’d parked the SUV, his stomach sank. The vehicle was gone.
Before he could react, a dark SUV pulled up beside him and a window rolled down.
“Get in,” a female voice called out.
He turned to find Grace in the driver’s seat of her SUV. He hopped into the vehicle and closed the door. “Why did you move the car?” he asked.
“I thought you might need me to be ready to make a run for it. Backing out slows one down.”
He laughed. “You’re getting good at this.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to get good at this.” She left the parking lot and drove away from the Quest building. “What did you find?”
He dug the bracelet out of his pocket. “Do you recognize this?”
Grace frowned. “That’s Riley’s. She wore it to work yesterday morning.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I helped her put it on. She was in a hurry and the clasp can be tricky.” She shifted her gaze back to the traffic in front of her. “Where did you find it?”
“Under her desk.”
“So, she was at work yesterday.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why would her supervisor lie?”
“I don’t know, but he should have gotten his story straight with the people she worked with. One woman said she left in a hurry yesterday.” He pulled the sheet of paper from his pocket. “I don’t suppose you have a pencil?”
“In my purse. I keep a mechanical pencil.”
“Not sure that will work, but I’ll try.”
“Try what?”
“I found this paper on her notepad. I thought she might have scribbled a note before she left.”
Grace nodded toward her purse. “Check in the side pocket. The pencil is in there.”
Declan dug around in her purse, found the pencil and rubbed it over the note. At first, he couldn’t see anything, but as he continued across the page, two words appeared.
GET OUT
Grace swerved and righted the vehicle. “Does that say what I think it says?”
“Get out,” Declan said.
Grace’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. “What’s happened to you, Riley?” she whispered.
“One thing we know for certain, Riley was at the office yesterday and her supervisor didn’t want the police to know it.”
Grace’s lips tightened. “Why?”
“I don’t know. But we know where he’ll be at seven thirty, tonight.”
Grace shot a glance at Declan. “We’re going there?”
“You bet we are. Or at least I am.” He tilted his head. “It might be better if you don’t go.”
Grace slammed her foot on the brake and glared across the console at Declan. “Why the hell not?”
Declan was glad he’d fastened his seat belt or he’d have been halfway through the windshield. “I get the feeling this might get dangerous.”
“Riley’s out there somewhere. If she’s in danger, I’ll do anything to help.”
“Including putting yourself in danger?”
“Damn right, I would.” Grace’s eyes welled. “She’s my friend. Practically family.”
A horn honked behind them.
“The light’s green,” Declan said softly. “You want me to drive?”
“No,” Grace said. Then she wiped her eyes and hit the accelerator a little too hard. The SUV leaped into the intersection. “I’m okay. I just want Riley to be okay.”
“I get that.”
“We have several hours until the meeting this evening. Where should we look next?”
Declan glanced around. “We could retrace Riley’s route she would have taken to the apartment and see if we can find any clues to her whereabouts.”
“I did that last night into this morning.”
“And?”
Her lips thinned into a straight line. “Found nothing.”
“Does she have any places she hangs out when she doesn’t want to go the apartment? Maybe she’s afraid to go to the apartment. If she left on her own yesterday, she might be running from someone.”
Grace concentrated on driving for a few moments before answering. “There’s a coffee shop a couple of blocks from our apartment. They have Wi-Fi. She goes there occasionally because she likes their coffee.”
Declan folded the note and tucked it into his pocket. “Then let’s hit all her normal haunts, get a late lunch/early dinner and be ready when Moretti goes to his meeting.”
* * *
GRACE DROVE THROUGH the congested traffic to the coffee shop near their apartment. By the time they arrived, she needed the coffee to steady her nerves. “There’s a reason I take the train as much as possible. Traffic is awful. We usually walk from the apartment to the coffee shop.”
“Let me drive from here.”
She handed him the keys. “You’re on.”
“When did you move in?”
“Four months ago, I had a hard time finding steady work paying enough to afford an apartment on my own. Riley offered to let me live with her until I got something that paid enough. I’ve been working for temp agencies, but I need to find a full-time job with benefits.”
“Thus the interview with Mrs. Halverson?”
Grace nodded and climbed out of the SUV. “What about you? I don’t know anything about you. When did you start to work for Mrs. Halverson?”
“Last night.”
Grace frowned. “After the kidnapping incident?”
“Yup,” he said and walked with her into the coffee shop.
At the counter, he waited for her to order, then he got a coffee for himself.
“Black. No sugar or cream. Just plain black coffee,” he said.
Grace laughed. “Most people come for the fancy coffee.”
“Unlike them, I like coffee just the way it is.” He took the cups from the barista and nodded toward a table in the corner. “It’s from years in the military, grabbing coffee when you can get it. It wasn’t always available. You took it any way you could. And that was usually black.”
He set the cups on the table and held a chair out for Grace.
She wasn’t used to someone holding her chair for her. Her ex-husband hadn’t been as concerned about her well-being. This made Grace like Declan even more. So far he was nothing like Mitchell. That was a huge plus in his favor. She lifted her cup and sipped the steaming brew. “How many years were you in the military?”
Declan took his seat and lifted his cup before answering. “Eleven years.”
“Eleven?” She tipped her head. “I would think you’d have stayed for the full twenty before getting out.”
His jaw hardened and his eyes grew dark. “It wasn’t my choice.”
“Oh.” She could tell he didn’t want to talk about it, but she couldn’t stop the questions. “How does that work? Did they not let you reenlist?”
“I was discharged,” he said, his tone implying she’d asked enough questions. “You said you have a picture of Riley on your phone. Could you bring it up? I’ll take it to the barista and ask if she’s seen your friend.”
“Yeah.” More questions burned to be asked, but Grace could tell she’d pushed too hard already. She found a picture of Riley she’d taken three days ago. She had been sitting at the dining table in their little apartment, her laptop open, staring at the wall, a bit of a wrinkle in her brow. Grace had snapped the picture and then asked her what she’d been thinking about.
“Nothing,” she’d said. Then she’d captured Grace’s gaze. “When someone asks you to do something you know is right but will cause you a lot of grief, do yourself a favor and tell them to go to hell.”
At the time, Grace thought the comment was odd and out of left field. “What do you mean?” she’d asked.
Riley had heaved a big sigh and then redirected her focus on the laptop screen in front of her. “Nothing. Never mind.”
Grace had gone to bed thinking her friend had had a bad day at the office and that she’d be her usually cheerful self the next day.
Then she’d gotten up early and gone into work before all the traffic became too congested. Grace had gotten up to use the bathroom only to find Riley struggling to get her lucky bracelet on.
“Here.” Grace handed the phone to Declan.
When his fingers touched hers, the jolt of electricity passing from him to her made her drop the phone before he had it firmly in his hands. It clattered to the tabletop.
Declan captured her shaking hands in his. “Are you okay?”
Grace nodded. “I’m fine—just a little unnerved by all that’s happened.” She would have pulled her fingers free of his big hands, but she liked how warm and rough his skin was against hers. She didn’t want him to let go.
But he did. And he lifted the cell phone. “This is Riley?” he said, staring down at her roommate’s image.
“Yes. She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“If you like redheads with green eyes,” Declan said. “I’ve always liked blondes with blue eyes.”
Heat rushed into Grace’s cheeks and warmth filled her chest. She was a blonde. The warmth faded. “I have gray eyes.”
“Did I say blue?” He glanced up, his eyes wide, innocent. “I meant gray.” Then he winked.
Grace laughed, albeit a little forced. “I used to go for the guys with black hair and brown eyes. They were so mysterious.”
“Used to?” Declan asked.
“Until I married Mitchell.”
“Mitchell’s your ex, right? Not a new husband?” His look was one of horror. “Are you on marriage number two?”
This time Grace laughed, humor bubbling up inside. She hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. “No. I’m not married. I’m very divorced.”
Declan let out a relieved sigh. “Thank goodness. I’d hate to think I’d kissed a married woman.”
That heat returned to Grace’s cheeks. “Speaking of which... Why did you kiss me?”
He rose from the table, phone in hand. “Time to get back to work. We have a missing person to find.” He walked to the counter and turned the full wattage of his smile on the barista.
He had the woman blushing as much as Grace was sure she had been over his statement that he preferred blondes.
Grace tried not to stare, but she couldn’t look away.
Declan had broad shoulders, narrow hips and thick thighs. When he walked, he had a natural swagger that couldn’t be hidden, and it made Grace’s heartbeat go from zero to 122 in two seconds flat.
He showed the woman the phone. The barista tilted her head to the screen, brushed her hair over her shoulder, smiled and nodded.
Grace leaned forward.
Did the barista’s nod mean she’d seen Riley? Or was it more flirting with the former marine? Not that Grace could fault the woman’s taste in men. Declan had it all. Good looks, a killer smile and a body that would haunt any woman’s daydreams and nighttime fantasies.
When Declan returned, he walked toward her with the grace of a tomcat on the prowl.
Grace’s mouth went dry and her pulse pounded through her veins. She wet her lips, her gaze going to his naturally.
“She thinks she saw her last night.”
“Thinks?”
“She knows Riley as a repeat customer. A woman who looked a lot like Riley—same height, build and hair color—came in last evening, wearing a baseball cap pulled low over her eyes. She ordered the same drink Riley orders and sat in the seat she usually occupies when she comes to the coffee shop to work on her laptop.”
“Why isn’t she sure it was her?”
“She didn’t wait on Riley and she had another customer. She only saw Riley out of the corner of her eye.”
“What about the barista who waited on the woman in the ball cap? Where is she?”
“He doesn’t work again until the weekend. He was training last night and wouldn’t know Riley from anyone else. He’s new.”
Grace inhaled and let her breath out slowly. “Riley might have been here last night.” She shook her head. “Then why didn’t she come home? And where did she stay?”
“She might not want to involve you in whatever made her leave her office in a hurry,” Declan said. “She could be on the run.”
“From who? What?” Grace stared into Declan’s eyes. “She’s an engineer, not a secret agent.”
Declan took her hands in his and squeezed gently. “We might not know until we find Riley.”
“She’s got some explaining to do.” Grace pressed her lips together and then softened, her gaze on the man’s hands holding hers. “She must be really scared.” She glanced at the pocket Declan had slipped the notepad paper into. “Why would she write the words GET OUT and then disappear? So far, I haven’t heard of any others from Quest Aerospace Alliance being threatened or having gone missing. There hasn’t been anything in the news. Riley’s disappearance seems to be unique. No one else has vanished, as far as we know, from Quest.”
“Could she have been working on a project someone wanted more details about?”
“Someone willing to kidnap her to get it?” Grace shivered. “She could have been. Again, she didn’t talk about work. She has a top secret clearance. Not many people get one of those in the private sector. She could have been working on something important. I wish she’d told me more.”
“What is interesting is that Riley was here yesterday. And the barista said she was alone.”
“Not kidnapped or held at gunpoint,” Grace said. “Which means she disappeared intentionally.” Her gaze met his. “I hope our efforts to find her aren’t putting her into more danger.”
“Me, too.”
Grace tightened her grip on Declan’s hands, glad he was with her. Thankful Mrs. Halverson had assigned him to assist her in her search for her roommate. “Riley’s on the run, hiding from someone. But who?”
“Maybe Moretti will lead us to the ones Riley is hiding from.”
Grace glanced at the clock on the wall behind the counter. “We have a couple of hours to blow. Want to come to my place? I have your rucksack there and I have some leftover lasagna in the refrigerator.”
“Sounds good to me. But I don’t want to take your food.”
“Nonsense. I always cook too much. I’m a firm believer in leftovers. That way I don’t have to cook as much during the week.”
“Good thinking. I grew up in a house where there was no such thing as leftovers. I was one of three brothers and a sister. My mother, to this day, says she doesn’t know how she kept enough food on the table for all of us during our teen years.” Declan smiled. “We tended to wipe out the refrigerator every third day. All of us were very active in sports. We burned a lot of calories. My mother was a saint. We were the sinners. I never knew how much she did for us until I had to do everything for myself when I joined the US Marine Corps.”
“Your mother sounds amazing. Is she still with you?”
“She and my father live out west. In Wyoming.”
“That’s a long way from DC.”
He shrugged and released her hands. “I haven’t been back home since I left the military.”
“Why?”
“I’m not quite sure how to tell them I’ve been discharged from the US Marine Corps.” He shook his head. “My father was so proud the day I graduated basic training. And when I was accepted into the Force Recon training, you’d have thought I’d hung the moon. Dad couldn’t have been prouder.”
“I’m sure your folks would understand that whatever got you discharged from your unit, you had to have good reasons.”
“We thought so at the time,” he said softly.
“We?” Grace searched his gaze for emotion. What had he experienced? What had been bad enough he was kicked out of the military? “Who else was involved?” When he let go of her hands, she reached out this time to comfort him and refused to let go.
He stared down where their hands intertwined, without speaking for a full minute. Then his lips twisted. “Five of my Force Recon team and I were processed out. Dishonorable discharges, all of us. For doing what we knew was right.” His words came out tight, and his fingers squeezed hers to the point they were hurting her.
But she didn’t utter a word, figuring the pain of his grip was nothing compared to the pain of losing the career he’d obviously loved and watching his fellow marines going down with him.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Why? You didn’t do anything wrong. We did. We knew what we were doing and that it was against orders. But we did it anyway. We also understood the consequences.” He pushed to his feet. “Now, if you’re serious about those leftovers, we should get going. We want to be at the meeting location before Moretti arrives.”
Grace rose and left the coffee shop with Declan. The more questions she asked of him, the more she wanted to know. But all in good time. Declan obviously didn’t feel comfortable talking about the incident that had gotten him kicked out of the US Marine Corps.
She could wait. But it didn’t stop her from wondering. The man seemed to be a straight shooter, one who would do anything for someone else. She couldn’t picture him as a traitor to his country. What else would have constituted a dishonorable discharge from the military? Unfamiliar with military law, she didn’t know. Soon, she would find out.