Page 136 of Exposé

I pulled into the covered parking, nodded to the new guards, and made my way through the two security measures and up the elevator.

Callie sat at her desk, her eyes wide as she saw me. "What are you doing here? Director Brentwood's not here. He's is in a meeting."

"Hello to you too, Callie. Thanks for your solid profile. Her police friend has been looking in on me."

"Is that why you're here?"

Other agents and workers passed by me, their eyes downcast or focused on their paperwork, never pitching me a second look.

"Why can't you be like all the other agents in here and keep your head down?"

I walked around her and toward Keith's office, his secretary sitting at her seat.

Shit.

"You know I can't keep out of things."

I raised an eyebrow, my mind whirring with countless scenarios. "Tell you what, you go back to your desk and pretend you never saw me, and I'll read you in."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "How do I know you'll do that?"

The back of my knuckles brushed against her cheek as I moved in closer. "You'll have to trust me, doll."

"Trust is a difficult commodity to come by in this field." She swiped my hand away. "You'll have to do better than that."

Another agent, three desks over, stood with his Bento box in hand and moved to the full-sized cafeteria beyond the doors.

I rushed to his desk, gave a half spin in his chair, and picked up his phone, dialing Judy's extension.

"Director Brentwood's office."

"Margaret," I said, lowering my tone and accent to match Keith's. "I need you down here on the ground floor. Bring me the paper on my desk."

"I'm on it, sir."

I hung up the phone and peeped over the cubicle.

Margaret stood, her long, slender legs covered by a black skirt, her white jacket widening her shoulders as though she were in the nineteen-eighties.

"What are you up to?" Callie crossed her arms and stared down at me, and I jerked her out of sight, pulling her down to the ground.

"Shh."

As Margaret eased the office door shut with a soft click, I sprang up, shadowing her with practiced precision.

My silent footsteps fell along the room in sharp contrast to her heels, tapping a steady rhythm on the polished floor toward the elevator.

I slipped through the office door she’d closed, easing it open just enough to slide inside, Callie drawn in tight behind me. Thesoft chime of the elevator echoed down the hall as the doors parted, masking our entry.

My heart skittered to a halt as I rounded his desk and shifted the mouse to the side, waking up his screen.

"A lock."

Callie narrowed her eyes, a faint frown tugging at her lips. "You really didn’t see that coming?"

I grimaced. "Yes, I did, but I forgot my Rubber Duckie stick."

She shoved me out of the way. "A USB stick would alert security." Her fingers moved over the keyboard, typing in two passwords, then a third. "Honestly, I don't know what he sees in you. Brute forcing this isn't the way you do things here."

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