Calculated Vendetta. Jodie Bailey

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       THREE

      Casey tapped the download button and settled in to watch the app she used for notes load onto her new laptop. The whole morning had been consumed with stopping at the Post Exchange on her way in to buy a new computer and backpack, then downloading and resetting everything to her liking. Around her, the office was fairly silent, typical of a Friday. Most of the staff were busy at their desks or out working on various assignments. Casey and a couple of others sat in their cubicles, typing stories or conducting phone interviews.

      She dragged her hands down her cheeks and rubbed eyes burning from lack of sleep, then reached for the mug on the warmer on her desk. The amount of caffeine she’d consumed today probably bordered on the danger zone, but it sure wasn’t helping to keep her awake. All it had done was serve to make her already-bouncing nerves more jumpy.

      She’d hardly slept, certain every stray sound in the apartment was the man with his gun coming to finish the job. There was zero evidence the attack was personal, but somewhere in the darkest part of the night, her brain had grown convinced a shadow had followed her home and was waiting for her to fall asleep before he crept into her private space to finish the job.

      If it hadn’t been for Kristin bunking in the spare room, Casey probably would have wandered circles through the apartment all night, obsessively checking under the beds and behind the shower curtains. Instead, she’d stared at the ceiling—perfectly visible with the light on—and prayed over and over for God to hide her from anybody who wanted to kill her.

      “You look like you haven’t hit the rack in about six weeks.”

      Casey jumped at the voice, then dropped her hands flat on the desk and leaned back in the chair to look at the face peeking over her cubicle wall.

      Staff Sergeant Joel Brenner was the new guy, arriving a couple of months earlier from Fort Sam Houston. Right at six feet tall with dark hair and blue eyes too impossible to be real, he’d caught the attention of every single lady in the office.

      Except Casey. Try as she might, she couldn’t work up anything other than a feeling of friendship for the man who went out of his way to pay attention to her. He was as nice as he was gorgeous, but nothing made her want to give him a chance. Something inside her must be defective.

      Brenner rested his crossed arms on the low wall, his usually laughing eyes grim. “Seriously. What is going on with you, Jordan? You aren’t yourself today.”

      “Didn’t sleep well last night.” She hadn’t told anybody at work what had happened, other than her laptop had been stolen. Even the thought of the uproar if the whole place learned someone had held a gun on one of their own was too much to bear. “You know how it is.”

      “Getting absorbed by your story?”

      “You could say that.” In a roundabout, parallel universe kind of way, sure.

      “You do realize it’s lunchtime?” Brenner slid his hands out to the sides and gripped the top of the cubicle, then leaned back as far as he dared without toppling the wall, surveying the room. “Almost everybody’s packed and lit out of here for chow already.” He pulled himself in and studied the top of her desk. “Want to go to the Starbucks over by the commissary and grab some real coffee?”

      Casey fought to keep from wrinkling her nose. She’d turned him down a hundred times, and a hundred times he’d asked again. Always friendly. Always hopeful. Kind of like a puppy begging for attention...if the puppy was drop-dead gorgeous.

      Which might be one of the reasons she couldn’t quite get herself to accept a date. A guy who looked like him should never be interested in her. It made no sense. She’d taken the risk with Travis, and look where that had gotten her.

      At least today, she had an excuse. “Got an interview scheduled this afternoon, and I have to jet out of here in about three minutes.” She glanced at the clock. It was almost noon. Zero hour, when she’d have to decide if she was going to go home to meet Travis or ignore him altogether and go to John’s by herself.

      Both thoughts left a sour wave in her stomach. There was no good reason for her to want Travis to tag along, but she did nonetheless. Emotional memory must be the same as muscle memory. It was a part of her until she somehow managed to train it out.

      “Tomorrow?” Brenner let the question hang and quirked a half grin.

      Well, nobody could say he wasn’t persistent. “I’m booked. Different guy, same interview.”

      The grin came on in full force, and it really was a sight to behold. He aimed a finger at her with a wink. “One of these days you’ll say yes.”

      Casey grinned at the good-natured humor in his tone. She wanted to think it was true, that one of these days she’d be able to believe he was interested in her, that she’d be totally herself again and could see another man without coloring him through the lens of Travis Heath. It had been three months, and her world still held the sheen of him, whether she wanted it to or not.

      Doubly so with his reappearance.

      Forcing a smile, Casey shook her head and reached for the cell phone buzzing on her desk. “Someday could be a mighty long time. I’m thinking you ought to hone in on another target. There are plenty of women around here waiting for you to ask them for coffee, you know.”

      He shrugged and glanced around the largely empty room, then looked at her, lowering his voice. “I know. But they aren’t you.” Backing away, he waved and walked away to his cubicle.

      Casey watched him go, running her thumb along the smooth case of her cell phone. Why couldn’t she tell the guy yes? Even once?

      With a sigh Brenner could probably hear from across the room, she flipped her phone over and glanced at the text message hovering СКАЧАТЬ