Lethal Exposure Read Free Page A

procedures.” She picked up a sheet and slid it over to him. She seemed incredibly amused by his discomfort.
    She steepled her fingers. “And speaking of following procedures, the newest list of approved weapons just came out. The Director is concerned that some field agents are carrying unapproved handguns—and we all know what that means. Could you make sure your partners are briefed on this?”
    Craig glanced over the sheet, then stuffed it in his shirt pocket. June knew very well he didn’t care for any of the handguns on the official list. And as expected, the Beretta he carried was not listed, so he made a mental note to exchange the small caliber weapon with one of the larger Sig-Sauers as soon as he could. “I understand,” he said, trying not to sound annoyed.
    “I thought you would,” she said with an even tone. “Getting this Shield of Bravery will put you in a fishbowl, make you even more visible than being an ordinary relief supervisor for your squad. So watch it.”
    Craig nodded. Somedays he imagined that June pictured herself as a reincarnated army drill sergeant who had missed her true calling in life.
    “Now finish catching up on your paperwork before I assign you to something less interesting . . . say investigating unauthorized uses of the Smoky Bear symbol.”
    Craig blinked, not knowing if she was joking or not. But either way she’s right , thought Craig. It’s in the statutes . “I’m on my way, Ma’am.” He quickly left the office, closing the door behind him again.
    At his own office he saw one of the squad rotors looking for him. He waved. “I’m down here Shelly.”
    She looked up. “You’ve got a call—long distance from Fermilab, some woman says it’s important. Insisted on speaking to you, in person.”
    Craig took a deep breath. “Thanks.” He grabbed for the phone before Shelly could leave. He punched the blinking line after pausing just a moment to gather his thoughts, calming himself and also slightly befuddled by how his pulse had quickened.
    Fermilab—a woman. He knew instinctively that it must be Paige Mitchell, who had transferred out to the accelerator laboratory after the Nevada militia incident. He hadn’t talked to her in some time, but she had his home number. Why would she be calling him at work? He kept his voice even, businesslike. “This is Special Agent Kreident. How may I help you?”
    “Hello, Craig—this is a voice from your past.”
    It wasn’t Paige. Instead, the rich, husky voice spoke of dark hair and flashing sepia eyes. It reminded him of a compact figure with gentle movements that held more than their share of class, creamy skin that would never have been sullied by too much time out in the sun, and of white teeth evenly spaced, except for a thin, enticing gap that made her all the more attractive. . . .
    Craig swallowed hard. “Trish? Is that you?”
    “It’s been quite a while.” As he remembered that she preferred to be called Patrice now, her voice became serious on the phone. “I’d love to catch up, but I wouldn’t be calling you if it wasn’t urgent. I need your help here. I’m calling from a hospital near Chicago—Aurora, Illinois, actually, near a research facility called Fermilab.”
    “I’m . . . I’m at a loss for words.”
    She sighed with a breath that might have been a stillborn laugh. “You always were, Craig, but let’s try to have a good conversation now. I’m in the middle of a murder case, and you’re the only person I know who might be able to help me. From what I remember, you’ve been handling investigations that fall right under this umbrella.”
    “What murder case?” he said, concerned now. He sat up straight in his chair, feeling sweat prickle behind the armor of his suit. “How are you involved in it? Are you in trouble, uh, Patrice?”
    “No Craig, not me—but the victim is. There’s been a terrible accident, and everything’s very confused. We don’t have much time.”
    “The