Breaking the Honor Code Read online

  “Hi.” Sloan offered a smile. “I hope you can help me. I’m looking for—” The words stuck in his throat as he stared.

  The mechanic wasn’t a man. He—no, she was Allison Richards. And she was safe.

  The look on her face mirrored his own shock. He hadn’t expected to find her so quickly, and certainly not fixing engines in a garage.

  That wasn’t his only surprise. Instead of the oversized white lab coat that was her uniform at Northstar’s lab, she wore faded denim coveralls that hung baggily off her shoulders. But it was what was under the unzipped coveralls that showed off attributes he hadn’t realized she owned. The skintight top was one of the sexiest he’d seen in a long time. The swell of her breasts rose tantalizingly beneath the open zipper. An expanse of soft, creamy skin called attention to the length of her neck.

  Words failed him as he jerked his gaze up, catching the movement of her throat as she swallowed, and his mouth went dry.

  “Sloan! Um, Agent Cartland, what are you doing here?”

  The voice was Allison’s, all right. He reined in his errant thoughts. “I’m looking at…I mean, for…you.” He stumbled over his words. She wasn’t wearing her glasses. He’d known her eyes were blue—but shaded by the ball cap they beckoned like a sparkling alpine lake. Clear. Inviting. Honest.

  “You came all the way from D.C. to find me?” She took a rag from her pocket.

  He watched as she wiped her slender fingers. The mesmerizing movement triggered visions of her hands, stroking his chest—pulling him close. Down, boy. Now wasn’t the right time for schoolboy fantasies, especially ones starring Northstar’s lab tech. He cleared his throat. “O’Neal sent me.”

  Her lips shifted into a frown. “O’Neal? Why?”

  He dug out a copy of the note and handed it to her. “We got this from the hacker.”

  She took the note from him. Panic flickered across her face as she read it. “When did you get this?”

  “Late last night.”

  “Why didn’t someone call me?”

  “We tried. You didn’t answer. Tom said you weren’t responding to e-mail either. Did the local sheriff try to reach you? They said they couldn’t go to your house until this morning.”

  “I wouldn’t have been there.” She slid a hand into the pocket of her overalls, pulling the opening wider. “My nephew had to be at school early today.”

  He shrugged, feeling a bit warm in spite of the blizzard raging outside. “Well, it doesn’t matter now that I’ve found you. You’re obviously okay. So we can get back on the road and fly to Los Angeles.”

  “Why?”

  He gestured to the note in her hand. “The hacker broke into the system again. He hacked our voice comms while Riley and I were on assignment. And another confidential report was released last night to one of the national news networks.”

  She frowned. “Did Tom catch the ping?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why wasn’t I notified?”

  “Like I already said, O’Neal tried. Apparently, you’re having phone problems.”

  Allison glided over to the counter with an economy of motion and grace that ratcheted his heart rate up another notch. A black, older model phone was perched near the parts catalog. She picked up the receiver, put it to her ear, and listened. “I have service here.”

  She reached into her back pocket, the movement stretching her shirt tighter across her chest. A cell phone appeared in her hand and she started poking at the screen. She scowled and looked at him. “It was working yesterday afternoon. I talked to my sister.”

  “What’s the word? Intermittent?” He shrugged. “Technology is your forte, not mine. All I know is we couldn’t reach you from Northstar. That’s why I’m here. We need to fly out tonight and join Tom and the FBI task force in L.A. How soon can you be ready to leave?”

  She frowned again. “I can’t go anywhere. I’m watching my nephew while my sister’s on a cruise with her husband. I could have saved you the trip if you would’ve called first.”

  “You’re babysitting?” Sloan couldn’t believe it. “Here we are, worried something horrible had happened to you, and you’re babysitting? O’Neal didn’t say anything about a nephew. How old is he? Can he come with us?”

  “Read my lips,” she said slowly. “I can’t go. I have a responsibility to stay here until my sister returns.”

  He studied her lips. Soft, pink, and full. Kissable. Of all the times to notice, why now? He shook his head to clear it. “You need to come with me to L.A.”

  “You’re unbelievable.” She threw an arm wide, offering a nice view of her mechanic’s attire. Lower that zipper another couple of inches, slide the shoulder down, and she’d pass for a model on one of those garage calendars. A sexy model’s body with a Bill Gates’ mind.

  His fingers ached to smooth an errant lock behind her ear. Wipe away the smudge on her silky cheek. Trail his fingers to that zipper…

  “Cartland, are you listening to me? I’m not going with you.”

  His attention snapped back to her face. Fingers curled into his palm to make them behave. “Sure you are. It’s your job. Can’t you leave your nephew with a neighbor?”

  She propped her hands on her hips. Those coveralls gaped, exposing the curve of her collarbone. Did the woman have any idea what she was doing to his blood pressure?

  He studied her mutinous expression. They’d butted heads before, but this stubborn streak was new. He wondered if she’d been pulling punches during their verbal skirmishes at Northstar.

  “I won’t leave Mitchell.”

  “It’s okay, we’ll take him with us.” His feet shifted, knocking a bit of snow from his boots to the floor. “If this guy continues to hack our systems, he’ll bring down the firm. And don’t forget that threat. Someone wants to take you off Northstar’s payroll, permanently.”

  She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I’m fine. Obviously, it’s a false threat.” She nodded at him. “And it worked. Now one more agent has been pulled out on a wild goose chase.”

  “It’s not a wild goose chase. O’Neal was worried.” He paused. “We all were.”

  She was never easy to read, but he could tell that he’d caught her off guard with the mention of others worrying about her. He liked that. He liked this version of Allison Richards, instead of the lab’s cyborg queen. One that suddenly had more appeal. With a mental shake, he reminded himself to stick to the job.

  “I’m sorry to have caused all this fuss.” She cleared her throat. “If I didn’t have this responsibility, I’d go with you. But I can’t break my promise to my sister.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  She gave him her cyborg stare. His rising blood pressure screeched to a halt and plummeted back to normal.

  “Give me your cell phone number.” She grabbed a notepad and a pen off the counter.

  “Why?”

  The look she gave him cooled him even more. “You said Tom’s in L.A., right? I’ll coordinate with him while I work from here. If my trap caught the hack, I can set up a script to trace it. I’ll have a trace ready by the time you reach Los Angeles.”

  “I thought location had something to do with our ability to catch him.”

  “Tom knows my work. I’ll send you what you need and he can do the rest.”

  Up to now, Sloan had handled the long flight, the drive to Thunder Valley, his concern for O’Neal and Allison without too much frustration. But the aggravation of dealing with a mulish geek brought his temper to the surface. “No.”

  She blinked. “Did you just tell me no?”

  He nodded toward the phone on the greasy counter. “You call O’Neal and tell him you’re giving up on months of work. Tell him you’re going to let this guy win.”

  Her head jerked as if he’d slapped her.

  His remark was cruel, but there was too much at stake.

  Endless seconds ticked by as anger and frustration passed through her eyes. Her breathing deepened and color ros
e in her cheeks.

  He’d hit more than one nerve. Catching this hacker was important to her, yet she still resisted.

  “I. Can’t. Leave.” She slowly measured the words.

  “Then you explain it to the director.”

  She reached for the phone and dialed Northstar’s number. Her demeanor shifted the moment O’Neal spoke. The conversation was brief and mostly one-sided with Allison giving one-syllable answers. When she hung up, her face had gone from a rosy hue to a shade as pale as the falling snow outside.

  “I take it we’re going to L.A.?”

  “You can follow me to the house so I can pack,” she snapped. “Then we’ll pick up my nephew from school on the way to Boise.”

  “Good.” About time! The first stage of his assignment was complete. “Let’s get going.”

  She grabbed a rag off the counter. “Give me a minute to lock up.”

  Sloan looked at his watch, feeling generous now that things were finally moving in a positive direction. “I’ll give you two.”

  ****

  Guilt rolled through Allison as she walked into the bay where the snowmobile was perched on the lift. She struggled against a second apology for failing to be at Northstar when she’d been needed—for being the reason Sloan Cartland had flown clear across the country only to learn she was fine. Never reveal the chink. Never show weakness. It had been her mantra for over two years.

  She felt as though she’d let everyone down. Again. O’Neal understood her family came first, but he was counting on her. She’d somehow allowed this hacker access to Northstar’s network, and it was her responsibility to catch him before the trail grew cold.

  Would her life always be a cycle of failing those who counted on her? She’d broken so many promises after she’d resigned from the force. And here she was breaking another to her sister. Caroline would understand. Forgive her. However, that didn’t ease the sting inside. Her own self-condemnation was bad enough, but coupled with Sloan’s accusation about giving up, her stomach revolted.

  “What are you doing in here, anyway?” Sloan followed her into the bay. His baritone voice carried through the garage in a cultured timbre that reminded her of expensive dark chocolate. Rich, with a bittersweet edge. One bite, and the haunting aftertaste would linger for hours.

  “Fixing a snowmobile.” She gave him the short answer. He didn’t need to know that the owner of the garage let her turn a wrench when she got the itch on her visits home. She promised her brother-in-law she’d repair their snowmobile before they returned. The project passed the hours while Mitchell was in school—gave her something to do with her hands and let her mind relax. Except her shoulder wasn’t fully rehabilitated from the bullets she took a couple of years ago and she wasn’t as proficient as she used to be.

  “So you plunk around on the keyboard and work on engines.” Sloan’s smile could melt ice off the roof. “Do you have an affinity for machines or something?”

  She stared at his face, stunned by the smile. He looked out of place with his sun-streaked hair and perpetual tan that contradicted the January winter. He belonged on the beaches of Hawaii instead of working for a Washington, D.C. security agency.

  What was it about him that made her so uncomfortable? He was just a man. An overbearing, interfering man. She wished O’Neal had sent someone—anyone—else to get her.

  “Something like that.” She stored the tools, secured the snowmobile on the bench, and headed back to the front.

  Sloan followed her out of the bay.

  A chill permeated the drafty old garage, making gooseflesh chase up her arms. She glanced through the windowed door. The storm was worsening. If they were going to make a flight out of Boise tonight, they needed to be on the road now.

  At the counter, she grabbed a notepad and wrote a hasty message for George, the owner, apologizing for leaving a mess in the bay. Something she hated doing. Whether it had been sweeping the garage after school, enduring initiation at the police academy, or spending hours chasing the hacker, she’d always done what her job demanded. She pushed herself harder than any boss did. And now, because she’d failed to stop the hacker, she’d have to dive back into her workaholic mud bath and drag her nephew with her.

  She turned off the heater before grabbing a mop from the closet and swiping at the puddle of water Sloan made when he entered the garage. Oil and water. Her and Sloan. This encounter with him was a prime example.

  When she first noticed him in the garage, she thought she had conjured him up, like something out of a nightmare. He looked positively dangerous with his tanned, unshaven face and damp hair. She’d always taken him for a suit, yet he didn’t seem at all uncomfortable in his sheepskin coat and faded jeans. If anything, the clothes only added to the image of a man who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  His frustrated scowl hadn’t detracted from his playboy looks, either. The fact she noticed his appearance worried her. She had a hard enough time dealing with him in a professional setting, especially when he wandered into the lab on some pretext when he was clearly just there to see if he could get under her skin. She refused to think of him on a personal level. The man wasn’t a white knight riding to her rescue. In fact, he was devastating to her peace of mind. Something she didn’t want to examine too closely.

  She glanced at the clock, then tugged off the oversized coveralls and hung them on a hook beside the door. Behind her, Sloan cleared his throat. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw those eyes darken to a near black. “That wasn’t a show for your benefit, Cartland, so get over yourself.”

  He raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

  After sliding into her heavy winter coat, she pulled on her gloves. “You’ll need to follow me.” Rattling glass and tinkling bells echoed as she held the door open for him to precede her. Huge snowflakes rushed in and melted on the warm cement floor.

  After closing the door, she dug in her pocket for the key to lock the garage. She took a shuddering breath. Heading into the storm, she wished the guilt building inside her would blow away with the snow.

  Chapter Three

  Allison shivered in spite of the warmth blasting through the car’s heater. Some days there was a stiff price to pay for the privacy and isolation of a country home. Today was one of those days. Halfway into the ten-mile drive to her sister’s home, an Idaho Highway Patrol car blocked the road. She eased onto her brake as a patrolman flagged her over.

  She pulled to the side and checked her rearview mirror. Sloan was a few yards behind her, and had pulled his car over as well.

  As she came to a stop, the officer trudged up to her car. She rolled down the window and ignored the heavy flakes of snow stinging her cheeks. “Is there a problem?”

  The officer ducked his head close to the open window to avoid the snow flying in his face. “Where are you headed?”

  “My house is a few miles from the turnoff at mile-marker 115.” Allison glanced over her shoulder to see Sloan climb out of his SUV and walk toward them.

  “We’re shutting down the state roads in and out of the valley.” The officer straightened and looked over at Sloan. “I can’t let you drive any farther. You’ll need to turn around and go back to town.”

  “We’re heading to Boise for a flight to L.A.,” Sloan said as he drew closer. “It’s urgent that we get there tonight.”

  The officer shook his head. “Not happening tonight, sir. We can’t risk anyone getting stranded and clogging up the emergency routes.”

  “My nephew is still in school.” Allison wanted to turn around now to get Mitchell if the roads were this bad.

  “The schools let out early. Buses took the kids home about an hour ago.”

  Panic welled inside at the thought of her nephew at home alone in the storm. “I have to get home to Mitchell!” Even if he was safe, she needed to be with him. “My house is so close. Can we go there instead of back to town?”

  The patrolman held out his hand. “Let me see your license.”

&nb
sp; She grabbed her wallet off the passenger seat and pulled out her driver’s license. “My address is in Washington, D.C. I’m staying at my sister’s house. I grew up here, and know the roads.”

  The officer glanced at her. “What’s the address?”

  She rattled it off while the officer studied her license. She turned to look at Sloan. “If we can’t get to Boise tonight, then I can work on the trace from the house. But I’ll need my computer.”

  The officer handed back the license and glanced speculatively between Allison and Sloan. “If I let you through, promise me you won’t leave your house until the crews open the roads again.”

  Sloan’s expression turned hard. “For how long?”

  “At least until tomorrow morning,” the officer replied. “How much longer after that, depends on the storm.”

  Sloan looked like he was going to argue, but Allison spoke up first. “We promise. Please. I can’t leave my nephew alone. He’s only nine.”

  The officer gave them both one last look. “If either of you were traveling alone, I wouldn’t let you through, but since you’re together…” He thumped the roof of her car, then gave Sloan a pointed look that meant they’d better follow his instructions. “Drive slow and careful.”

  Relief flooded Allison. “Thank you, Officer.” There was no way she’d correct his assumption she and Sloan were together. Not in that sense.

  After the officer was out of earshot, Sloan leaned into her window. “I don’t like this.”

  She glared at him. “I don’t care. I’m going home to be with Mitchell. I’ll start the trace. That’ll give me at least a twelve hour start while we wait out the storm.” She pressed the window button and it started to rise. “You can follow me, or go back to town. Your choice.”

  Once the window closed, she put the car in gear. The longer she sat here, the worse the roads were going to be. She’d wasted enough time.