Jess,” he said, “the plug is going to be pulled this afternoon.”
Her bright brown eyes widened behind her glasses, and Arlen spared a moment to wonder just how bad her vision was. “The Defense Investigative Service is going to pull an unannounced inspection at your plant this afternoon. One way or another, they’re going to ensure that information is protected.”
“But how?”
Arlen shrugged. “They’re going in looking for an opportunity, and they won’t quit until they find it. They’ll make your folks change all the combinations. They understand the situation as well as anyone, Jessica. That information won’t go unprotected another night.”
“But you said it’s as important to find out what has been compromised as it is to prevent further compromises. If they change all the combinations, won’t that prevent the spy from doing anything? How will you find him?”
Arlen shook his head. “For a novice, you’re good at thinking these things out, Jessica, but you’re not considering motivation here. This person isn’t stealing these documents because it’s easy. He’s motivated by something. The most common motivation is greed, even though it’s a fact that spies generally don’t make huge sums of money. Still, if someone is motivated to steal defense secrets in order to get money, he’s not likely to stop just because there’s a setback. Same goes with other motivations, from revenge to blackmail. Whatever is driving this character, he’s likely to lie low for a couple of days or weeks, then try to get his hands on the new combinations.”
Jessica’s slow nod indicated her understanding. “And you’ll be ready.”
“Believe it.” He smiled, then utterly deprived her of breath by the simple expedient of reaching out and running the tip of his index finger along her cheek.
In that instant Arlen experienced an overload of sensations. All at once he was aware of the satin texture of Jessica’s skin beneath his finger, of the way her breath caught and held, of her faint feminine fragrance. He saw, too, the way her eyes darkened and her lips parted, just a little, an unconscious betrayal of her reaction to his touch. His own body clenched in response, a sharp, hungry stab of wanting.
Abruptly, he drew his hand back. “I promised you lunch,” he said briskly. “We’d better get inside before your break is over.”
Feeling slightly dazed, Jessica didn’t move until he opened her car door. She wasn’t used to such courtesy, and as often as she’d gone out with men for lunch, this was the first time in her life one actually tucked her arm through his, holding it snugly to his side as he guided her around puddles and held an umbrella over her with gentlemanly concern. Being unaccustomed to it, she wasn’t sure whether she liked it, but it certainly made her feel ladylike.
It also made her aware of two other things: how large he was beside her, and that he was wearing a gun. The first unsettled her, but the second unnerved her, causing her to miss her step. Arlen steadied her immediately, looking down with quick concern.
“Are you all right?”
Feeling foolishly naive—of course an FBI agent wore a gun—she responded tartly to cover her embarrassment. “I’m just not accustomed to rubbing elbows with a gun.”
Gray eyes looked down at her steadily for an interminable moment. When he spoke, his voice was absolutely level. “Does it bother you?”
Jessica had the inexplicable feeling that she was being tested in some way, though she had no idea what kind of response he wanted. She could only tell the truth. “Actually,” she said, and felt her blush rising again, “it caught me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. And I wish I could learn to stop blushing!”
Arlen looked startled, and then he chuckled, asking, “How old are you, anyway?”
Her color deepened even more. “I’m twenty-six. Are you laughing at me?”
“Not at all.” He shook his head solemnly, but his eyes were dancing. He urged her toward the restaurant door. “Twenty-six? And you’ve been with MTI for six years, you said? You must have graduated from college young.” Twenty-six was no child, he found himself thinking, and then wondered why that relieved him.
“I was a little accelerated,” she admitted, reluctant to discuss this. People, especially men, seemed to be put off when they learned that she’d graduated from high school at sixteen and completed her undergraduate work and her masters by the age of twenty.
“I was your age when I graduated,” Arlen volunteered. He collapsed the umbrella and opened the door for her. “The marines slowed me down.”
The restaurant was less crowded than usual at that hour, probably because the weather had dampened a few appetites. Jessica ordered the crab salad that was her favorite lunch, and Arlen ordered the vegetarian plate.
“I’m not a vegetarian,” he remarked as he handed the menus to the waitress, “but on my job I wind up eating a lot of greasy fast food. Every so often I throw a sop to my conscience.”
Jessica laughed.
“I think,” he said, returning to business, “I’d like to hear from you tonight about the DIS inspection this afternoon.”
“I won’t know much about what’s going on,” Jessica told him. “When they’ve come other times, they spent a couple of minutes asking me whether I have any problems or questions, or whether I’ve had any unusual or suspicious contacts, but that’s the extent of my involvement.”
He nodded and leaned back to allow the waitress to serve them. “But you might pick up on people’s reactions to what’s happening. This is going to be a different inspection from most, Jessica. It’s going to be harder, tougher and longer. This time DIS isn’t going in with the assumption that everything’s on the up-and-up. This time they know something’s seriously wrong, and they’re going to dig for any sign or symptom of it. It’s certainly apt to irritate people, and it should make anyone with a guilty conscience just a little uneasy. People get incautious when they’re worried, and you just might pick up on something.” He shrugged and lifted his fork. “I just want you to be alert and then share your impressions with me. Maybe you’ll get something, maybe you won’t.”
“Well, I can do that much,” Jessica readily promised, and then laughed. “I have to admit, though, when they ask me if I’ve had any suspicious contacts, you’re definitely going to be the picture that pops into my mind.”
Arlen laughed, too. “Just try not to look guilty.”
“Did you bring one of your cards for me today?” Jessica asked. “It doesn’t really matter, but last night I realized that I never knew FBI agents carried business cards. And then I got to wondering what it looks like.”
“Just a regular card. No bells or whistles or anything fancy.” He patted his pockets until he found the one holding his card case. “I don’t know why it is,” he said, “but I can never remember where I keep these damn things. Here you go. But I’d really be a lot happier if you didn’t carry this around with you.”
“I’ll give it right back, then.” She accepted the white card, studying it with an interest she didn’t bother to hide. Embossed in gold with an FBI badge in one corner, it identified Arlen as Special Agent in Charge of the local field office.
“Special Agent in Charge?”
