Red Sky at Morning

Chapter

Twenty

“MORNING.” KERRY GAVE Mayte an apologetic look as she entered, closing the outer door behind her. “Sorry I’m late.” She shifted her laptop case to her other shoulder. “Anything blowing up that I should know about?”

Mayte smiled at her. “There is nothing that I know of. Mamá said there have been some messages for la jefe, but it is nothing too serious.”

“Good.” Kerry opened the door to her office and went inside, circling her desk and dropping her briefcase behind it. She collapsed into her leather chair and nudged the switch on her PC, leaning back and watching as it booted.

Late or not, she hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep. Her eyes were sore, and she could feel a heaviness in her head that made her hope she wasn’t coming down with something.

Her phone rang. With a sigh, Kerry sat forward and answered it.

“Yes?”

“Hello, Kerry.” Eleanor’s voice sounded a touch on the smug side.

“Did you forget our meeting?”

Oh, pooters. Kerry rested her head on her hand. “Not exactly,” she said. “We were here on a project until almost four last night. I just got back in.”

“Four?” Eleanor replied. “Good grief, woman. I can’t think of anything fun I’d like to do until four in the morning, let alone anything involved in work.”

“Yeah, well, you know how it is.”

“No, and I’ve got no urge to find out,” the marketing VP said.

“Well, how about a reschedule for tomorrow?”

“Fine.” Kerry rolled her trackball and studied her schedule, now displayed on her fully booted PC. “How’s 3:00? I’ve got two reviews to do in the morning.”

“3:00 it is. Try not to sleep through this one, huh? Though I hear the company’s worth it.” Eleanor chuckled, and hung up.

Kerry had to think about that for a moment before she groaned and let her head hit the desk with a soft thump. Then she got up and trudged around the desk, snagging her coffee mug and heading for the door.

334 Melissa Good Mayte’s desk was empty when she passed it, as was the hallway when she ducked across it to the little kitchenette that served the fourteenth floor. She went to the cappuccino machine and started some milk frothing, studying it as the coffee poured out of its nearby funnel.

The scent itself made her perk up a little, and she breathed it in, trying to extract some alertness from it.

“Well, well!” Clarice entered with her own cup. “Everybody was wondering where you were.”

“Really?” Kerry was very aware of the ragged edges of her temper.

“They could have done something out of the ordinary, like ask my admin.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Clarice chuckled. “Not that anyone blames you, Kerry.”

One, two, three. “Blames me for what?” Kerry asked with studied innocence, pouring her coffee into her steamed milk and stirring it gently.

“Sleeping in,” the black woman explained with a grin. “Not with that bedmate.”

Kerry turned and looked at her. “Clarice, that’s inappropriate,” she stated quietly.

Clarice’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she let her cup drop to the counter with a slight bang. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “Here I thought what you two were doing was inappropriate. Silly me.”

There weren’t numbers high enough for her to count this time.

Kerry walked over and got into Clarice’s space, mustering up as much attitude as she could, given her sleepless state. “That’s also inappropriate. One more time, and I’ll put it on your record. You want that?”

Clarice studied her in silence for a short time.

“Do you?” Kerry repeated.

“No, I don’t.”

“Dar and I keep our personal lives out of the office. Why don’t you try doing the same thing?” With an almost verbal snap of her fingers, Kerry turned and walked out, stalking across the hall and jerking open her door to continue inside.

Fortunately for both of them, Dar’s reflexes were not quite as burned as Kerry’s were, and she caught the cup of hot coffee as it went flying from the blonde woman’s grasp as they collided. “Whoa!”

“Crap,” Kerry exhaled. “Sorry.”

Dar carefully handed her back her cup, with only two lonely drips.

“S’all right. Wasn’t your fault—you had no way of knowing I was in here,” she added reasonably. “So what put a barracuda in your shorts?”

“Grr.” Kerry walked to her desk and put the cup down. “Just a personnel problem.” She sighed. “Your friend Clarice.”

“Ah.” Dar scrubbed a hand through her dark hair. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll transfer her to the Nome office. Give me a minute.” She started Red Sky At Morning 335

back toward the inner corridor that connected their offices.

Kerry intercepted her. “No. No, Dar, this is my problem. I’ll handle it.”

Her lover eyed her. “Point of fact, Kerrison, this is actually my problem, and we both know it,” she disagreed.

“Actually,” Kerry went and sat down at her desk, “it’s really her problem, but she’s my employee and I’ve got to deal with it. I’m not going to run away from another issue.” She spun her trackball. “How’s the data dump coming?”

Dar studied her, deciding if she should accept the change of subject. She walked over and perched on the corner of Kerry’s desk, reaching out to take her hand and tugging a little to pull her around so they were face to face. “You deal with it,” she said. “But if it gets to be too much, you come to me, Kerry. I’m the reason she’s being a bitch to you. It’s not your fault.”

Kerry pulled their joined hands over and kissed Dar’s knuckles. “I appreciate the offer.” She rubbed her cheek against the back of Dar’s hand. “And I’ll remember it.”

“Okay.” Dar ruffled her hair. “The data dump’s going, but it’s taking sixteen forevers,” she admitted. “I hope we can get something out of it, or this is going to be one big expensive waste of time.”

Kerry grunted softly. “Do you want to get something, really, Dar?”

she asked in a quiet voice. “Sometimes proof is not all it’s cracked up to be.”

Dar looked at her. Kerry’s face was pensive, and the weight she carried on her shoulders from the choices she’d made was evident to her partner’s watching eyes. Without a word, Dar leaned over and gave her a kiss, then a brief hug, before she stood and headed back to her own office.

Kerry reached up to touch the spot where Dar’s lips had been, and found a smile somewhere. “Kiss my ass, Clarice,” she announced wryly.

“Just kiss my Republican WASP ass.”

IT WAS DARK outside, and the MIS office was very quiet. Only one light was on, in the small office that once had been Dar’s and was now temporarily again as she worked on her database project.

She leaned back in her chair and propped one knee up against the desk, reviewing the screen with tired eyes. An entire screen of characters faced her, white letters on a dark background that didn’t change no matter how many times she read them.

With a soft curse, she got up and stretched out her back, careful not to jar her shoulder as she circled the tiny room with weary, slightly rocking paces. Finally she stopped and gazed at the wall, studying the spidery traces of the network diagram—her network— that was tacked up in all its glory.

336 Melissa Good Her cell phone rang. Dar turned and leaned against the wall, unclipping the instrument from her belt and answering it. “Yeah?”

“Hello, Dar!” Alastair’s voice sounded, as always, resolutely positive. “How are things going?”

“Lousy,” Dar admitted.

“Ah.” Her boss cleared his throat. “No luck, huh?”

Dar gazed at the computer, aware of being balanced on a knife of decision. After a moment, she inhaled, aware of the sting as the knife cut her. “Wish I hadn’t had any,” she said. “It’s all there, Alastair.”

All there. She’d been wrong. Uncle Jeff had known, and more than that, he’d used knowing to buy Chuck his boat. There was no way to hide any of it—and Dar had in fact been more than a little shocked at herself for wanting to.

“Ah.” Alastair absorbed the information and the silence that followed it. “Well, we knew it wasn’t pretty, Dar,” he said briskly. “But we did what we got paid to do.”

“Yeah,” Dar agreed quietly.

Another silence ensued.

“But?” Alastair ventured.

“But what’s the price for it, Alastair?” Dar asked. “There’s a lot of dirt in here a lot of people, very powerful people, won’t want dumped into the sunlight. What about us?”

“Us?” Alastair asked. “As in you and me?”

Dar snorted, walking across to the desk and plopping back down into her chair. “Us as in the company. Thirty percent of our contracts are with the government, Alastair. You want them all pissed at us?” She looked at the screen, reaching over to scroll her mouse down a few clicks. “Is it worth it?”

This time, it was Alastair who was quiet for a span. “Y’know, I don’t think I ever thought I’d hear you say something like that, Paladar,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re getting soft in your old age.”

A faint, brief smile crossed Dar’s face. “Maybe.” She exhaled. “Or maybe I just don’t want to bury old friends today.”

“Ah.” The CEO acknowledged her reluctance. “Well, the company can stand the glare, Dar. We just did our jobs. The brass can be upset at the results, but not the methods, and given your natural bias, they can’t even fault the process.”

“Bias?”

“C’mon, Dar,” Alastair said. “At any rate, I know I can leave this decision in your hands, and I want you to know—whatever you decide, I’ll back you a hundred percent.”

Gee. Thanks. Dar tipped her head back and regarded the ceiling.

“Gee, thanks,” she repeated audibly into the phone. “You have a nice day too, Alastair.”

Her boss chuckled briefly. “I know how you feel, Dar,” he said.

“Had to sit in your seat once myself, and it’s not easy.” His voice grew Red Sky At Morning 337

more serious. “But that’s why they pay us the big bucks, lady. You know it and I know it. So you just make your best decision, and we’ll take it from there.”

Dar accepted the mild rebuke with a slight nod of her head. “Yeah, I know,” she acknowledged. “It’s just been a long week. Maybe Kerry was right after all; I was too close to this.”

Alastair gave that statement its due and proper regard. “Or maybe you’ve just swallowed a few too many painkillers,” he suggested.

“Sleep on it, Dar. Don’t choose now. Just go home, relax, and wait for sunlight to make your decision.”

Dar’s sensitive ears caught the sound of the elevator doors opening. “Good idea,” she said. “I’ll do that, Alastair.” She cocked her head, listening for Kerry’s distinctive walk and smiling when she heard it. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”

“Right-o, Dar,” Alastair said. “G’night.”

“Night.” Dar watched as Kerry’s figure filled the doorway of the small office.

“Say good night to Kerrison, too,” Alastair’s voice added, before a solid click indicated the line cutting off.

“W—” Dar looked at the phone in startlement. “How in the hell did he know you were here?”

“Ahh.” Kerry looked as tired as Dar felt. She entered the office and dropped into the chair across from her boss, unbuttoning the top button of her shirt and loosening the collar as she did so. “You smiled when you saw me. It makes your voice all different.”

“It does?” Dar responded in a slightly amazed tone.

“Yes, it does,” Kerry said. “How’s it going?”

Dar sighed. She propped her head up on one fist and looked across the desk at her lover. “I need a hug.”

Kerry got up and circled the desk. “Nicest request I’ve had all day.”

She willingly perched on one arm of Dar’s chair and wrapped herself around her lover, giving her the requested squeeze. “How’s it going?”

she repeated, glancing across to the monitor.

Dar threaded one arm under Kerry’s knee and let her head rest against the blonde woman’s chest. “I recovered the data,” she answered, after a brief pause. “Alastair says it’s up to me to decide what to do with it.” Kerry exhaled, resting her cheek against the top of Dar’s head.

“You going to decide now?”

Dar shook her head.

“How about we go home, then? I’m pooped,” Kerry said.

“Okay,” her lover agreed.

They sat there in silence for a little while, only the soft squeak of the chair audible as they rocked gently together.

“Wanna go get some ice cream?” Kerry finally said.

Dar perked up a little. “Mm.”

338 Melissa Good

“That little parlor on the beach? You, me, and a sundae?”

“Oh, yeah.” Dar finally smiled. “Lead on. I’m right there with you.”

After Dar carefully locked down her data, they got up and left the room, shutting the lights off. Arm in arm, they walked to the elevator, leaving the problem temporarily behind them.

THE PARLOR WAS busy, but they found a table near the back windows and settled into it. Dar half turned in her seat and leaned her back against the window, easing her arm onto the table for support.

Despite the crowd, a server wound her way over to the table immediately and presented herself, giving them both a big smile. “Hi guys! Tough day?” she asked sympathetically. “Haven’t seen you in here in a few weeks.”

Kerry gave the girl a wry look, acknowledging there were worse places to be a regular at. “We’ve been swamped,” she agreed. “Two of the usual.”

“You got it.” The girl scribbled something on her pad. “Want a couple Cokes while you’re waiting?”

“Sure,” Kerry agreed, leaning back and extending her denim-covered legs as the girl left. The parlor was a simple place—tile floors and Formica tables lending it a cafeteria look, along with fluorescent lighting that did not flatter it any.

But the ice cream was rich, and completely overindulgent, so when they visited they dismissed any lack of décor as merely incidental.

Kerry actually liked its plain functionality. It reminded her of a small corner drug store she and her sister used to frequent on their way home from school, with its cracked vinyl stools and chipped counter. They’d gone there enjoying the illicit thrill of it, knowing if their parents found out, they’d both be punished in a heartbeat.

Made the sodas taste better, she’d always sworn. The memory brought a smile to her face, even after all this time.

“What’s so funny?” Dar asked, her fingers plucking idly at the paper napkin on the table.

“Life, sometimes,” her partner responded. “I was just thinking how in my life, whenever something was supposed to be bad for me, I went right after it,” Kerry added. “Ice cream sodas, chocolate, beer—”

“Me.” Dar snuck it in craftily.

Kerry looked at her, then laughed. After a moment, Dar joined her as they both enjoyed the moment together. “Yeesh, how true that is.”

Kerry wiped her eyes. “Me, the Midwestern Republican rebel.”

“You forgot Christian,” Dar reminded her, reaching casually over and capturing Kerry’s hand.

“Ah, yes.” Kerry twined fingers with her. “Twelve years of orthodox indoctrination just so I can sit here in South Beach holding hands with you.” She rolled her head to one side and regarded Dar. “It’s Red Sky At Morning 339

funny, though. One of the things they try so hard to teach you is to do

‘the right thing.’ What they never tell you is how to know what that is.”

Dar nodded somberly. “I know what you mean.”

Kerry leaned on the table a little. “Dar, you don’t really feel sorry for those guys, do you? I mean, yeah, they were friends of yours once, but remember being in that hospital, okay? And remember how all of us almost got in a lot of trouble because of them.”

The waitress returned with both their sodas and their ice cream.

She set them down, and the women applied themselves to the serious business of eating for a moment before Dar decided to answer.

“I know they’re wrong, Ker,” she said, licking a bit of hot fudge off her spoon. “But yeah, I do feel sorry for them. Maybe I wouldn’t have at one time in my life, but I do now, and it’s your fault.”

“My fault?” Kerry looked up in surprise, getting the words out around a mouthful of banana split.

“Your fault.” Dar dabbed a bit of whipped cream on Kerry’s nose.

“You gave me back my conscience,” she said. “Now I have to make peace with it before I have to go do what I need to do.”

“Oh.” Kerry ate a bit of chocolate ice cream. “Is that a bad thing?”

Dar tapped the spoon on her lower lip, a thoughtful look on her face. “No,” she decided, shaking her head and spearing a cherry. “Just a damned inconvenient one sometimes.”

Ah. Kerry reflected on that. Life was damned inconvenient sometimes, if she thought about it. She just had to take the good with the bad, and make her best choices. She sucked on her straw and nodded a little to herself, almost feeling a sense of reconciliation with one of hers.

Almost.

THE SUN PEEKED slowly over a lightly ruffled gray ocean. Across an almost empty beach, a seagull wheeled, searching for a little breakfast for himself.

Dar sat near the shore, leaning against a half-buried, mostly dead tree, and watched the bird circle. Beside her sat her briefcase, on which she rested one elbow as she dug idly into the sand with her bare toes.

It had been a long night for her, lying in the darkness with Kerry’s warm body pressed against hers as she went over and over her options; how they might play out, and what the consequences could be. She’d finally gotten up and showered, dressing as a sleepy Kerry nuzzled her back and wishing the day was already over with.

She’d then come out here, to this beach, to let the cool morning breeze clear her head. It was the same beach she’d come to the night she’d almost fired Kerry, the same beach she’d been coming to for years when she needed a few minutes to ground herself, here within sight of the vast Atlantic that had been her playground since before she could 340 Melissa Good really remember.

Maybe that’s why she’d always been so damned sure she belonged in the Navy. Dar sighed. Even as a young child, there had never been a doubt in her mind that one day she’d be out there, living on the sea just like her father. It had been a world she’d been completely comfortable with—a world she’d been proud to be a part of.

Nowadays, it was considered a little old-fashioned to be patriotic.

Dar ran her fingers through the grainy sand, plucking out a bit of dried coral and examining it. Her father was, though; once upon a time, she had been, too.

Now? Dar’s lips pressed briefly together. With a slight groan, she pushed herself to her feet and shouldered her briefcase, walking slowly across the sand to the beckoning waves. She kept going until the water covered her feet, the incoming tide washing over her legs up to her rolled up pant legs, bringing with it the clean, tangy scent of the sea.

A bit of seaweed wrapped itself around her ankle, its touch a little prickly. Dar gazed off into the dawn, letting the onshore breeze blow her hair back as the sun lit up the waves.

KERRY SAT AT her desk, cupping her hands around a steaming mug of hot tea as she watched the sun rise through her window. She looked up as a knock sounded on her door, a little surprised. “Come in.” The door opened and Mark stuck his head in. “Morning, Kerry.”

Kerry’s blonde eyebrows lifted. “You’re here early.”

“Yeah,” the MIS manager agreed. “You, too.”

“C’mon in,” Kerry repeated. “Dar’s on a plane up to DC, so I thought I’d get in here and get some stuff done before the phones start ringing.”

Mark entered and crossed the mahogany carpet, settling in the seat across from Kerry’s desk. “Did she get what she needed from that array?”

“I think so,” Kerry said. “Now she’s just got to decide what to do with it. Sticky political situation, you know?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. Speaking of.” He folded his hands together and rested his chin on them. “You figured out what you want me to do with Brent?” he asked.

“Is he here?”

“Yeah.”

Kerry exhaled. “Okay, send him over. I’ll talk to him,” she replied.

“Maybe we can get some communication going. I...” Another sigh. “It’s really too bad, because he’s a good tech.”

“Yeah,” Mark agreed. “He’s just got some weird hang-ups,” he said. “And talking about that crap—someone else is talking shit around the place.”

Red Sky At Morning 341

Kerry covered her eyes with one hand. “Karnak says ‘Clarice.’” She opened her fingers and peeked at Mark. “Am I close?”

“She’s a bitch,” the MIS manager stated flatly. “I didn’t like her when she was chasing after Dar the last time, and it pisses me off that she’s walking around here spouting crap.”

Kerry leaned back in her seat and sipped her tea. “Don’t hold back, Mark. Tell me how you really feel,” she remarked wryly. “I know. It’s really taken me by surprise, because I always thought she was a good worker; never had a problem with her before.”

Mark looked slightly uncomfortable. “She really had a thing for Dar,” he said. “Everyone knew it. Dar finally called her on it in a big meeting we had. Big time.”

Ahh. Kerry winced. “She didn’t mention that part.”

“You know Dar.” Mark half shrugged. “Clarice finally got over it. I don’t blame Dar, but it was pretty public and I guess now Clarice feels like, well, shit, after all that crap, and now—”

“Now us.” Kerry nodded. “Yeah.” She sighed again. “And that puts me in a really awkward position. But I guess I have to do something about it, huh?”

Mark looked around carefully. “You could just tell Dar,” he said in a low voice. “Let her handle it. After all, she’s, like...in the middle of the whole thing.”

Yes, she could tell Dar and let her handle it. But Kerry’s whole being resisted that, and in her heart she knew she’d lose a lot of respect for herself if she backed down on this one. “She’s offered,” she told Mark.

“But the woman works for me, so it’s my call.”

Mark didn’t look surprised. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll send Brent over.”

He stood up. “Lots of luck.”

“Thanks.” Kerry shook her head as he left. Feeling the tension creep up her back and knot her stomach slightly, she turned her chair and looked out over the water. It was a great view, she reflected, and it fit the spacious office to which her position entitled her, but along with those perks came the responsibility of making the hard choices. She had a much better understanding now of how Dar had come to be the way she was, as a leader.

Leaders had to step back and see the big picture. For the greater good of the company or sometimes just because of hard dollars and cents reasons that fell within their areas, they had to make decisions that hurt individuals. “What would you have done, Kerrison, if you’d had to integrate a half-rate little software development services company with mostly mediocre employees and a pissant ops manager who told you off?” She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair.

“Damn, I was lucky she liked me.”

Another knock at the door interrupted her musings. Kerry gazed plaintively at the horizon. “Luckier sometimes than others, however.”

She said, “C’mon in.” As the door opened and Brent entered, she turned 342 Melissa Good her chair and put down her cup. “Hello, Brent,” she greeted. “Sit down.

Let’s talk.”

Warily he walked over and took a seat, edging back as far away from her as he could. “If you’re gonna fire me, could you please do it quick?” he said. “I wanna miss traffic.”

Kerry sighed. It was going to be a very long day.

DAR GLANCED AROUND as she walked through the Pentagon, feeling a bit conspicuous even though her civilian dress blended in with that of a good percentage of the workers. She’d called Gerry from the airport and he was expecting her, but she felt a curious sense of reluctance as she walked down the austere hallway.

She recalled the last time she’d been here, picking up the government contracts that had, in the end, allowed her to salvage Kerry’s former company and permanently piss off the regional sales manager she’d upstaged. A smile appeared briefly, and she squared her shoulders as she opened the door to Gerry’s outer office and gave his admin a nod.

The woman smiled at her and pressed a button on her phone.

“General, Ms. Roberts is here.”

“Is she? Great. Send her in.” Gerry’s voice boomed through the intercom.

Dar walked past the woman’s desk and opened the inner door, entering and closing it behind her as Gerry put down the folder he’d been looking at and came around the desk to meet her. “Morning, Gerry.”

“C’mere, girl.” He opened his arms and enfolded her in a hug.

“First things first. How’s it having your daddy back?”

Dar put down her briefcase, forgetting about its contents for a moment. She returned the hug. “Awesome,” she replied simply. “When are you going to come down and visit? They’ve got a boat they’d love to show off to you.”

“Ah, munchkin. You got no clue how glad I am.” Gerry rubbed her back and gave it a pat. Then he pulled back and looked at her, shrewdly reading the expression on her face. “Bad news, eh?”

Dar nodded.

Gerry exhaled, releasing her and stepping back to perch on the edge of his desk. “Well, you tried, Dar. Can’t fault you for it,” he said.

“Did a damn risky thing. I’m glad no worse happened.”

Dar picked up her briefcase and laid it on his desk, releasing the locked latches and opening it. She lifted out a thick sheaf of papers secured with a binder clip and dropped it on the blotter pad. “Don’t thank me yet.”

“Eh?”

“It’s there.” Dar closed her case after removing a square box and Red Sky At Morning 343

putting it next to the paper. “Hard and digital copy.” Her eyes lifted and met his. “I got all of it out of there.”

Gerry was visibly stunned. He slowly got up and circled his desk, sitting down in his chair and staring at the paper. “Did you?”

Dar put her case on the floor and sat in the visitors chair across from him. She leaned back and folded her arms, exhaling for a long moment. “I took a copy of the computer core before they came in and trashed the place,” she said. “I was able to reconstruct it.”

Gerry was silent for a long while. He pulled the stack of paper over and turned it around, flipping through a few of the pages. “Huh,” he finally murmured. “Dar, you skunked me. I figured I was going to have to bat my way out of a bunch of starched shirts looking to hang me for hiring some civ company who didn’t know their butts from a deck mop.”

Dar’s face twitched slightly. “You hired the best,” she said quietly.

“You got what you paid for.” Aside from the knowledge of what the information represented, Dar couldn’t deny a bit of pride in herself for doing what most people would have considered pretty damn near impossible. It had been, by anyone’s measure, a brilliant piece of reconstruction.

The general nodded slowly, pursing his lips. “Can’t argue with that, my friend,” he said. “But now I’ve got a whole ’nother kettle of fish I’ve got to deal with.”

Dar nodded. “I know.” She folded her hands. “Wasn’t what I expected either.”

Gerry got up and paced behind his desk, visibly disturbed. “Damn it,” he said. “This’ll blow out all over the damn place. Papers’ll have a damn field day.” He snorted. “Congress’ll have a damn field day with me, after that last mess.”

Dar simply sat and waited, having gone over the same issues all the way during her trip up from Florida. After a minute, however, she cleared her throat. “Can’t you handle it under the table?”

Gerry looked at her. “Once, sure. Now? Forget it. More leaks in this place than in my wife’s noodle strainer.” He sighed in disgust. “Well, let me get the legal folks in here. Sit tight.” He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

Dar drummed her fingers on one knee, just wanting it all to be over.

“IT JUST AIN’T right,” Brent muttered.

Kerry rested her chin on her hands, gazing at him with wry exasperation. “Brent, it’s not really any of your business, you know?”

“That ain’t so.” Brent kept his eyes on the edge of the desk. “Not when you big shots just parade around, pushing it out in everybody’s faces. It’s not fair.”

344 Melissa Good There was, Kerry acknowledged, a grain of truth in what he said.

“Look, Brent,” she sighed, “Dar and I do our best to keep our private life private. I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking when I came into Ops that night, and that’s my fault. I made a mistake.”

Furtively, he peeked up at her. “That’s right. It’s wrong.”

“Love is never wrong, Brent,” Kerry said. “I’m sorry if that doesn’t mesh with how you were brought up, but you know, it doesn’t mesh with how I was brought up, either.” She got up and circled her desk, watching him edge back nervously. “Sometimes you just have to learn to live with things. My question to you is, can you live with this?

Because if you can’t, and you continue to do things like spread false rumors about me or about Dar, then you can’t work here.”

“I didn’t spread no false nothing,” Brent protested. “All I said was you were meeting with some guy after dark here. It was true!”

“Why would you even tell anyone that?” Kerry queried.

“’Cause you were touching him all over! What was anybody supposed to think?” Now Brent was righteously upset. “Wasn’t me who said all that other stuff,” he added. “Go and find that other stuck-up woman, that one from Chicago. She’s the one who told everyone you was—I mean, she said about cheating and all that. I just said what I saw.”

Ah. Some of the pieces clicked together. Kerry felt a slow burn of anger start. “You mean Clarice?”

“If that’s what her name is, sure,” Brent said. “She heard me telling one of the techs, and then she was off and yabbling to everyone.

Thought it was one big joke.”

Kerry walked to her side table and poured herself a glass of water, more to give herself a chance to think than because she was thirsty.

“Okay.” She turned, leaning against the table as she sipped from the glass. “But that doesn’t answer the question. Can you do your job here or not?” One problem at a time, Kerry. One problem at a time.

Brent slid a bit lower in the chair. “I don’t want no trouble.” He averted his eyes again. “I do a good job here.”

Kerry returned to her desk and seated herself facing him. “That’s right, you really do, Brent,” she agreed. “You’re one of the best techs we have, and that’s why I was so disappointed about what happened. I like you.”Very slowly, his eyes lifted to meet hers.

“I don’t want you to leave. But I also don’t want you to be so uncomfortable around me, or around Dar, that it makes you crazy,”

Kerry continued, in a gentler voice. “So you think about it, and you let me know, okay?”

Brent was silent for a moment, then he finally nodded. “All right.”

He got up and scuttled around the chair. “I got stuff to take care of.”

“Thanks for coming by, Brent.” Kerry dismissed him. She waited for the door to close behind his stocky form, before she let her eyes Red Sky At Morning 345

narrow and her fingertips drum on her desk. “That,” she spoke aloud,

“was the easy one.” With deliberation, she got up and headed for the door.

DAR STOOD WITH her arms folded, looking out the window of Gerald’s office. Behind her, the general was hashing over her data with a tall, constipated-appearing major from the military legal office. The major wasn’t happy. Gerald wasn’t happy.

Hell, I’m not happy. Dar observed a black and yellow bird settle onto a branch outside, its mouth opening in song she hadn’t a chance of hearing.

“Ms., ah, Roberts.”

Dar turned to face the major. “Yes?”

“The security group that reviewed the base reported back to us a very different story than what you present here,” the major stated. “We found some small infractions, yes, and my office was preparing administrative sanctions against the base commander, but nothing close to what you are alleging.”

“I,” Dar stated flatly, “am not alleging anything. I’m just an information services professional who is tendering information to you.

If that information looks bad, that’s not my fault.”

The major watched her warily. “We found no indication of major offenses at that base,” he repeated. “There was no hint in any of their systems of any of this.”

“Exactly why I asked Paladar to retrieve the records,” Gerald interrupted him. “Figured if there was anything dicey, butts would be covered post-haste.” He tapped the report. “Now, Ted, let’s call spades spades. We got a problem here.”

The major looked even more constipated. “General, I’m sorry, but I have to call these ‘facts’ into question. I refuse to believe an entire intelligence team could have failed to find even a hint of this.” He threw his hands up. “This could all be fabricated!”

Both of Dar’s eyebrows shot up and she started forward, pausing when Gerry put a calming hand on her arm. “What would be the point in that?” Dar demanded.

“Well, Ms. Roberts, your company has a certain reputation to maintain.” The major gave her a smug look. “Busting the Navy would certainly put a shine on your cap, wouldn’t it?”

“Easy, Dar.” Gerry put his arm over Dar’s shoulders. “This nitwit in a starched suit has no idea who he’s talking to.”

“Sir!” the major protested.

“You listen here, youngster.” Gerald rode over him. “Dar and her people didn’t risk their hides to get this stuff out for the likes of you to pooh-pooh it. Now, this’s the real stuff. I don’t like it, you don’t like it, and believe me if you don’t believe her, Dar doesn’t like it. But there it 346 Melissa Good is, and now you, sir, have to deal with it. Go kick some kiester and stop wasting my time.”

“Sir,” the man rested his hands on the table, “let’s just think about this for a minute.”

Dar straightened and circled around to the other side of the table.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just didn’t want to blow their little scam. You in on it?”

The major stood up dead straight, his jaw clenching. “How dare you.”

Dar lifted her hands and spread them out to either side of her.

“Government has a certain reputation to maintain, doesn’t it?

Appropriations? Budgets? Scandal’s always bad for the expense account, isn’t it?”

“Dar.” Gerald gave her a warning look. “Now, I know Ted here just wants to cover our butts. Don’t blame him. Once he gets a look-see at all this, I know he’ll do the right thing.” He turned and stared directly at the major. “Isn’t that right, Ted?”

The major glared at Dar.

“Ted?” The general stepped between them. “You know as well as I do, it’s no good trying to stuff this bilge under the bunk. Didn’t work last time, won’t work this time. Just bite the bullet and get moving on it.” After a moment, the major nodded. “You’re right, sir,” he answered quietly. “I just hate to see it. We’ve come so far since...”

“I know.” Gerry sighed. “Always an ass dropping crap when you least expect it.” He half turned his head. “Pardon me, Dar.”

The major picked up the stack of paper and the box next to it and tucked it all under his arm. “I’ll get to work on it right away, General.

Don’t you worry.” He ignored Dar, turning his back on her and walking directly to the door, opening it, stepping through, and closing it with sharp precision.

Gerry sighed, and sat down on the edge of the table. He glanced at Dar, who was still visibly steaming. “Can’t really blame him, munchkin.

He’s third-generation Navy, and you know how we get.”

“He’s a first-generation jackass,” Dar replied. “Can he even read?”

“Now, Dar,” the general chided. “He’s a good legal guy. Give him a chance. Once he goes through all that, he’ll step up to the plate, don’t you worry.” He added, “He didn’t know you were one of us.”

The room went still for a moment, and Dar heard those words as though they were crystal shards falling on the tile floor. She drew in a breath, and when she exhaled, she knew herself for a different person.

Her voice, however, remained casual. “I’m not.”

“Eh?”

“One of you,” Dar said, looking him in the eye.

Gerry didn’t know what to answer to that. He blinked for a minute, then he shook his head. “Well, like I said, don’t you worry, Dar. We’ll Red Sky At Morning 347

take care of it.”

Was she worried? Dar considered. She’d turned over what she’d found to the proper authorities. Was it her problem what they did with it? She sat down in one of the leather chairs and exhaled. “Sorry.”

Her old friend got up and walked over, sitting down in the seat next to her. He patted her knee. “No, it’s me who should be sorry, Dar. I owe you a big apology.”

Dar gazed at him from under dark lashes. “For what?”

“Asking you to go out there,” General Easton replied in a quiet voice. “Contract’s one thing. I should have known this was more than it seemed. Risking you wasn’t on my battle plan, Dar.” He shook a finger at her. “Especially if you were hurt, you little polliwog. You should have told me that.”

“It turned out all right.” Dar stretched carefully, avoiding stress on her shoulder. “Guess I’m done here, eh?”

Gerry studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “Just leave it in our hands,” he assured her. “You go on back home and take some rec, hear?”

Dar got up and brushed her jacket off. She extended a hand to him.

“I will,” she said. “Let me know when you’ll be in my neck of the woods, Gerry.”

“Certainly will, Dar.” The general took her hand and clasped it.

“I’ve got a handful of other bases I’d like you to check out, but let’s wait for the feathers to fall on this one for a month or so, eh?”

“Yeah,” Dar agreed. “Be in touch.”

She picked up her briefcase and shouldered it, then made her way out of the office, turning and giving Gerry a half wave before she left.

He smiled and waved back. Dar closed the door with a sense of guilty relief and headed out to the outer corridor.

There. Glad that’s over. Dar walked through the busy halls, her progress noted only by a few quick glances, most of them merely interested in the tall, dark stranger in their midst. Dar granted her ego the right to preen for a moment, then she turned and headed out the door to the street.

It was cold, and she paused to zip her jacket up before she made the trip out to the parking lot and got into her rental car. She set her briefcase on the seat next to her and closed the door, starting up the engine before she exhaled, gazing back the way she had come, at the massive building.

It seemed to her, as it always did, a bland facade full of dusty secrets.

Dar sat back and thought about that. She’d never been a conspiracy theorist, truthfully. She accepted that sometimes the government didn’t tell what they knew, and she accepted that sometimes the government didn’t know its ass from a hole in the wall. It was made up of people.

Having a treasury seal on your paycheck didn’t make you any smarter 348 Melissa Good or more capable than anyone else, and Dar reckoned that in a general sense she hired more capable people than the establishment did—and paid them better to boot.

So. Did she really trust the major? Dar gazed at her own hands, curled around the steering wheel. Ringless, they were long fingered and powerful, and she flexed them once or twice as she pondered the meeting she’d just left. “Should I really care?” she asked herself aloud.

“Let ’em do what they want with that damn stuff. I’m out of it.”

With that, she put the car into reverse and backed out of the spot, sliding on her sunglasses to block the rich rays of the setting sun that angled in and highlighted her face.

KERRY FOUND HER way out to the small balcony on the fourteenth floor. It overlooked the ocean, and a cool breeze counteracted the retained heat of the sun in the stone bench she dropped down onto. Her body was tired, and she rubbed her neck to relieve the stress, closing her eyes against the throbbing headache that had snuck up on her after her conversation with Brent.

The sun had dropped behind the building on its way to setting, and she laid her head back against the wall, allowing the sound of the waves, distinct even this far up, to infiltrate her senses and bring their own kind of peace to her.

Dar used this spot, she knew, and after a few visits up here she understood why. Even in the heat of summer, the wind kept the temperature bearable; now, nearing sunset, it was a good place to be even when the day wasn’t as troublesome as hers was today.

She wished Dar would call. She knew her partner had been very upset when she’d left, and not hearing from her all day was adding to the stress from the dozen or so problems she was working on as well as the personnel issues that were now cropping up.

Her eyes opened when she heard the door latch work, and she looked over to see Clarice emerge onto the balcony. Kerry mentally articulated a curse she was sure would surprise the other woman, then wrestled her manners into place and merely gave her a polite nod.

Clarice opened her mouth to speak, but she was forestalled by the sound of Kerry’s cell phone ringing.

Saved by the bell. Kerry unclipped the instrument and checked the caller ID. A smile crossed her face at the readout, and she flipped the phone open with a sense of mildly vengeful relief. “Hey, sweetie.”

She could almost hear Clarice’s teeth grinding.

“Hey,” Dar drawled softly. “Why are you outside?”

Kerry extended her legs and crossed them at the ankle. “How did you know I was?”

“I can hear airplanes. I assumed you hadn’t gotten into model racing while I was gone.”

Red Sky At Morning 349

The droll response made Kerry chuckle. “You know, I didn’t even hear ’em. How’s it going?” She made a point of ignoring Clarice, who went to the railing and looked over.

“Eh,” Dar replied in a verbal shrug. “I gave Gerry the info, he gave it to some jerk in JAG. I get the feeling it might end up lining the president’s secretary’s birdcage before long.”

“Mm,” Kerry murmured. “That’s a shame, after what we risked for it,” she said. “So are you coming home now?”

“Yeah.”

“To hell with them, then.”

There was a brief silence. “Everything okay there?”

Kerry’s eyes went to the stiff back facing her. “Everything’s peachy.

I’m going to clean up some garbage, then pack up my gear and take off.

Can I interest you in a midnight cruise?”

“Mmm.” Dar purred in response. “For that I’d climb to the top of the Washington Monument and flap my way home without the plane.”

Kerry grinned in pure response. “See you soon, sweetie.” She paused, her green eyes distinctly twinkling. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Dar replied. “See you in a bit.”

Kerry folded up her phone and put it back in its clip. Then she leaned back and spread her arms across the back of the stone bench, taking possession of it, the space around it, and the situation she could feel brewing between her and Clarice.

She’d felt guilty about Clarice, she’d realized, because of what had happened over Thanksgiving. But now she realized she could no longer hide behind that guilt in dealing with the woman.

Clarice turned and looked at her. Kerry gazed coolly back.

“You know what, Kerry? I think—”

“Shut up,” Kerry interrupted her in a quiet, yet carrying tone.

It caught the black woman by surprise, and she hesitated.

“I did you a favor and found you a place here,” Kerry said. “And you repaid that by being as obnoxious as you could possibly be to me and undermining me with my staff.”

“You didn’t do me any favors,” Clarice snapped back. “That was Dar.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Kerry replied. “If it were up to Dar, you’d be in Nome.” She got up and leaned against the wall, minimizing their height difference. “So you’d better decide if you want to keep on like you have been, because I’m losing my patience with you.”

“You think you’re so hot just because you’re humping her—”

Kerry refused to get angry. “No, you think just because she and I are lovers, that gives you the right to attack me because Dar wouldn’t sleep with you.”

Clarice stared at her. “I guess she just likes white bread.”

Kerry exhaled, realizing suddenly that her line in the sand had moved unexpectedly, and it was now right up against her toes. All 350 Melissa Good along, she’d felt a sense of guilt about Clarice, because of how it had all happened, how it had all come down, and how she’d forced the woman to fly across the country because of a silly quirk in her own psyche.

Now, with this almost offhanded attack on Dar’s character, it was as though all that vanished, erased from her conscience as though it had never happened.

To insinuate smarmy things about her, and about their very visible relationship...well, they’d made the choice to expose that to their coworkers. She and Dar had long ago decided to take the fallout when it happened and deal with it.

But accusing Dar of racism? Kerry had realized at some point in their relationship that as far as it was possible for a person to be so, Dar was color blind. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, it was that the factor just didn’t enter her thought processes and this self-martyring assumption on Clarice’s part just burned her shorts.

She exhaled, and found the decision actually far easier than she’d thought. “Actually, she likes raisin toast with cream cheese,” Kerry told Clarice, in a firm, final tone. “And you can pick up your severance check next Friday, in Personnel.”

“What?” The woman’s jaw actually dropped. “You are not firing me.”

Kerry pushed off the wall and squared her shoulders. “Yes, I am,”

she informed Clarice. “For insubordination after a verbal warning.” She paused. “It’s in the handbook.”

Clarice was visibly stunned. “You’re joking.”

Kerry shook her head. “I’m not.”

“You can’t fire me. I’ll sue your ass!” The woman’s voice rose in shrill anger. “I’ll haul your ugly ass into court, and I won’t have to work a day the rest of my life!” She stepped forward, her hands clenching into fists.

Kerry stood her ground, even though Clarice topped her by several inches. Adrenaline rushed through her body, washing away the ache and the exhaustion. Without her realizing it, her own hands curled into loose fists also. It brought on a sense of almost confusing power and she stepped forward instead of backward, her body responding to a fight-or-flight reflex in a completely unexpected way.

Fight? Her?

“It’ll make a very interesting case.” Kerry’s voice rose. “I’ll enjoy hearing your justification for your documented insubordination.” She added, “Maybe Dar’ll testify how she had to push you out of her office the last time.”

“Bitch.”

Kerry smiled grimly. “Sometimes,” she said. “When I have to be.”

She took a deep breath, but half turned as the door opened. Mark’s head poked out, along with that of a security guard.

Kerry wondered yet again if their MIS manager was some kind of Red Sky At Morning 351

clairvoyant. “Nice timing,” she complimented. “Keith, please escort this lady from the building. She’s been terminated.”

The security guard edged around Mark and came out onto the balcony, obeying her without question. “Yes, ma’am.” He gave Kerry a respectful nod, then said to Clarice, “Please come with me, ma’am.”

“You have not heard the end of this, whorebait,” Clarice hissed. “I will see your ass in court.”

The guard took her to the door and they disappeared. Mark closed the door behind them, sliding out onto the balcony to Kerry’s side.

“Whoa, chief. That was radical.”

Kerry felt her knees shaking. She went over to the bench and sat down before she fell down, letting her arms fall to rest on her thighs.

“Son of a fucking bitch.”

Mark’s eyes widened.

“Yes, Republicans curse.” Kerry lifted a shaking hand to her head and tried to catch her breath. It hadn’t quite worked out how she’d planned, and she could only imagine the round of e-mails that would have to start between her, Mariana, and Hamilton Baird, ILS’s legal council.

Mark sat down next to her and handed her a lidded cup with a straw sticking out of it. Kerry took it, surprised at the chill that stung her fingers and caused condensation to run down the outside. She sipped gingerly at the straw and was rewarded with a mouthful of chocolate milkshake. “Mm.”

“I saw you guys out here,” Mark said. “I figured it wasn’t a cool thing. Brent ran down and got that from the shop. He said you guys talked.”

Kerry sucked down another mouthful. “We did.”

“So...he’s going to be okay?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

Mark looked out over the water, and then back at Kerry. “I’m really glad you fired that bitch,” he said. “Because I was getting ready to, like, do something radical to her driver’s license record and get her ass arrested for something really gross.”

Kerry exhaled. “I’m not sure it was the right way to do it,” she admitted. “But it’s done. I guess I’ll deal with the fallout.”

And she would, she realized. In a series of decisions whose repercussions would probably be with her for a long time to come, it was just one more she had to come to terms with.

She thought it was the right choice.

Time, of course, would tell.

DAR PAUSED AT the stoplight, casting her gaze at the bulk of the Capitol building while she waited for the traffic to flow again.

Suddenly a familiar figure appeared, accompanied by two younger 352 Melissa Good men. Dar blinked, surprised at the coincidental presence of Roger Stuart at just the same moment that she was passing the spot.

Obeying an impulse she didn’t stop to analyze, Dar swung the car into a parallel parking spot and shut the engine off; then she opened her door and got out just as the senator reached her car.

They stared at each other for a moment, then the statesman relaxed slightly, watching her warily as she approached. “Roberts,” he murmured, inclining his head a trifle.

“Hello, Senator,” Dar found herself saying. “Mind if I have a word with you?”

It was obviously the last thing in the world Roger Stuart expected.

He hesitated, watching her intently with his cold, green eyes, then he shrugged. “Go to the office. I’ll meet you there,” he instructed his aides, who were watching Dar with equal suspicion.

“Sir—”

“Go on,” Stuart instructed sharply. He waited for the men to reluctantly retreat, then turned back to Dar. “Well?”

Why the hell am I doing this? Dar wondered. I can’t trust this man further than I could pick up that car and toss it. What the heck am I doing?

And yet...

“I’d like to give you something,” Dar said. “It’s information I obtained from a naval base in Florida.”

The senator looked at her as though she’d grown a second head.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“What’s this all about?” Stuart asked, slightly intrigued despite himself. “Why are you bringing this to me? Is it a trick? Another one of your machinations?”

With a sigh, Dar turned and removed her briefcase, taking a second copy of the data from it and handing it over. “No,” she said briefly.

“Look at it. If you think it’s worth your attention, do something about it. If not, chuck it. I don’t care.”

The senator let his eyes fall to the top page. “What is this?” He picked up the cover sheet and examined the summary. “I don’t know what you ex...” He looked up at Dar sharply.

“I gave it to the military’s legal department,” Dar said evenly. “I think it’ll end up in a shredder. Now I’m giving it to you. I’ve done my patriotic duty, so whatever happens, the ball is in your court.” She turned and tossed her briefcase into the car.

“Why me?” Stuart asked curiously, half his attention still on the summary.

Dar looked at him. “You’re the only senator I know,” she said, then her lips quirked. “Not to mention, the only one I’m related to.”

Sour lemons had nothing on the face she got for that claim.

“Kerry’s fine. She thinks of her family a lot. Call her sometime.”

Red Sky At Morning 353

Dar got it all out, then she got back into her car and started it, rolling up the window and pulling out without a backward look.

Dar felt a weight she had hardly been aware of lift off her shoulders. Now she could go home.

She hoped there would be ice cream at the airport.

Roger Stuart stood on the sidewalk, watching the car disappear into the distance. His hands curled around the papers, and after a moment, he tucked the sheaf under his arm, straightened his coat lapels, and started off down the street with a determined stride.