Not that it would help, since this was far from a mistake on anyone’s part. However, once they got past the mundane they’d have to listen to her. Have to check out her claim of sabotage.
“I don’t think you understand,” Taylor insisted. “Your error. You and you alone.”
Her error? Fury bloomed beneath Jess’s skin, but she refused to let it show. She managed a tight shrug. “Fine.”
“That doesn’t bother you?” Taylor asked. His brows arched in surprise.
“It’s what I’d do,” Jess replied, sounding as unconcerned as possible despite the fact that her insides were twisted into a tight knot. “It’s standard procedure. Besides, it’s not like they’ll find anything.”
She would know. She’d gone over that evening in her mind countless times. The preparation. The maneuver. She’d done everything by the book.
She continued. “The only thing I’m concerned about is what happens after they discover it wasn’t a mistake. I want to make sure they find out what really happened.” She rose, pacing as she spoke, her bare feet quiet against the wooden floor.
“Someone did this on purpose, John. We were set up. I was set up. I want them to find the perpetrator. Not just a name to expedite closing the file.” She reached the far wall and leaned against it, her forehead pressed against the wood paneling. “I want this person found and brought to justice. I want them to pay for what they did.”
“I know, but there isn’t much to go on.”
“How about the limpet?” She returned to pacing, her frazzled nerves demanding movement. “Do you have good news? Any at all?”
Taylor rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re analyzing the little shrapnel that was left, but so far it doesn’t appear promising. No prints or anything.”
“Damn.” This just kept getting worse. “Tell them to check for the stripped screws.”
“I’ll tell them.”
Once again, she recognized Taylor’s expression of guilt. Her spirit sank. “What is it?” she asked. She didn’t want to know what else could go wrong, but not knowing was worse. “What else are you not telling me? And don’t bother to lie since you suck at it.”
He cleared his throat. “They have found some evidence.”
“That’s good news,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Geez, John. Quit freaking me out.”
“It’s not good news, Jess.” He stared at his feet. “The log where you signed for the mine shows that you didn’t check out a training mine. You checked out a live limpet with enough power to blow a hole in the Sushi.
“What?” Jess stopped midstep. An unnatural chill rolled through her.
Taylor continued, “It’s your signature, Jess. They had a handwriting analyst check it.”
She stared at her first-in-command in disbelief as she searched her memory. But she only found what she knew to be true—she’d checked out a training tool, not an actual, full-scale mine. “You know I would never be that careless.”
He didn’t contradict her, but his attention remained focused on his shoes. She knew what he was thinking. She saw the uncertainty in the way his shoulders slumped and the way he refused to meet her eyes.
He thought it was her fault.
She sat down in her chair, resting her head in her hands. “I know what I signed for. I checked it. This is all wrong.”
“Maybe you were in a hurry,” he offered.
“No,” she shot back. She did not need anyone to make excuses for her. Especially one of her best friends. “I was not in a hurry. I know what I signed for, and that wasn’t it.”
“I know. We all do.” Taylor sighed again, a man at a loss and caught between the differing sides of the stories. “Hang in there, cookie.”
She smiled despite the frustration and shock. He hadn’t called her “cookie” since her days as a new recruit when she was a newbie and he was her trainer. “Thanks,” she said, squeezing his hand. He was still her best friend. And if there was one thing she knew, he might have doubts—hell, she had to admit she would if their places were reversed—but he would stand by her no matter what happened.
That’s what people like Taylor did. They were rocks in a stormy sea. “You better go,” she said.
“Yeah, if they spot me here they’ll be asking questions.”
“With you so close to retirement, we can’t have that,” she said. “Catherine would never forgive me.” Jess loved Taylor’s wife but cheerfully admitted she was in awe of the petite redhead since anyone who could keep Taylor in line was a little scary.
Taylor paused in the doorway. “I’ll see what else I can find out. Don’t count me out yet.”
She met his steady gaze. “Never.”
When the door closed, Jess leaned over, hands on her knees, as she absorbed the reality of her predicament. If convicted of sheer idiocy, she’d receive a dishonorable discharge at best.
At worst—Leavenworth.
It wouldn’t come to that, she told herself. She’d make sure of it.
She straightened and returned to the computer. Once again, she tossed the letter in the wastebasket.
This time, it could remain there.
She turned the monitor back on and opened her e-mail program. There was the usual. Her parents. Something about buying land in Costa Rica. A notice requesting an alumni update at aa.gov—the Athena Academy Web site.
Athena Academy. Her high school alma mater and where she’d spent her teen years. Normally, the teenage time frame from twelve to eighteen was reserved for angst, indecision and drama. Instead, the Academy, and its intense curriculum and supportive teachers, had made it challenging, empowering.
It helped that while the school was an all-girls, private institution, entrance was based on merit. Not money. And there was no application for enrollment.
They sought out the best and the brightest and offered them a full scholarship. So all the girls who attended were smart. Inventive. Talented and unique.
She trailed her fingers down the screen, wondering what they would think of her if they knew her situation. Would they be disappointed? Worried?
Pissed and eager to help?
Damn, she missed them. Her friends. Her teachers. Even her much-loathed language classes.
She missed it all.
But above all, she missed the atmosphere. People believed in her. If Principal Evans was on the Inquiry Board—there would be no question as to the truth.
“Principal Evans isn’t here,” she said to herself. “It’s just you.”
She glanced down through the rest of her e-mail messages, coming to one from Nikki Bustillo, her best friend from the Academy and the one person she’d kept in touch with on a consistent basis.
I heard what happened. Call as soon as you get home and let me know you’re okay.
Jess wasn’t surprised that Nikki had gotten wind of the accident. A lieutenant in the Coast Guard, she always heard about ocean-related incidents.
And what had happened to Jess was definitely in that category.
Jess pulled out her cell phone.
There weren’t that many people Jess was close to. Her ability to breathe underwater made her wary of letting others in. But Nikki was an enhanced human, as well—though her gift was different. She smelled emotions.
Jess smiled. As best friends and