Exchange of Fire by P. A. DePaul Read Free Book Online Page A

help keep turnover down and make a company stronger. Throw in a few rewards at a campy ceremony and you have a night of fun.”
    “All true.”
    He cocked his head to the side. “So, if you agree with me, I have to wonder what’s holding you back.”
    “Nothing momentous.”
Other than I thought I’d be out of here before then and now the twisted feeling in my gut.
“I’m just not that big on laser tag,” she threw out, relieved at finally being able to state the full truth for once.
    “What?” He blinked twice, his face a laughable cross between bewilderment and horror.
    She grimaced. “You know my thing about shooting games. Can I attend the dinner and campy awards ceremony but skip running around in the dark trying to kill the employees?” After the disaster the last time she pulled a trigger, she’d vowed to never fire the weapon again . . . plastic included.

Chapter 6
    Grady couldn’t believe his ears. “How can anyone not like laser tag? It’s
laser tag
. Such a great way to blow off steam and have some laughs.”
    “I see I’ve rocked your world with my big”—she fluttered her hands—“reveal. But there’re those of us who can get their laughs and blow off steam by other means.”
    His mind instantly went into the gutter. Yeah, he could think of a few ways he’d like to help her relieve stress, and they all involved their naked bodies. He shifted his hips to hide the semi now perking up at the images.
    “I’m—”
    Sandra jumped in the leather chair like she had been goosed, then stilled ominously. What the hell? Her hands all but wrung together, and he could see the wheels turning in her mind.
    He straightened from his feigned casual pose and stepped forward.
    As if she carried the weight of the world, she stood and slowly reached into her front pants pocket and pulled out a key chain.
    Unable to take it anymore, he growled, “What’s going on?”
    Guilt flashed across her vivid hazel eyes before she lowered them to the device.
    “Sandra?” Why wasn’t she saying anything? Tension coiled in him from the suspense.
Goddamn wall of hers.
    When she didn’t look up, he focused on what held her attention. Three small red LED lights stood in a row on the black plastic key chain. No markings or designs were visible to tell him what its purpose was. His gaze zeroed onto the first of the three small lights now flashing steadily. Just as he opened his mouth to demand an explanation, the middle light started flashing in time with the first.
    Her posture stiffened, and she took in a swift breath.
    The third and final LED lit up, joining the other two.
    Her hand shook as she continued to stare at it.
    That does it.
He closed the distance between them and grasped her shoulder. She jerked under his touch, and her eyes flew to his. To the day he died, he knew he’d never forget the haunted, scared, and pissed-off expression filling her irises.
    “What the hell is going on? What is that thing? What do those lights mean?” He gripped her tighter when she started pulling away. That same sickening, helpless feeling pooled in his gut.
    “I’ve got to go.” She wrenched from beneath his hand. With a slightly wild air she scanned the office.
    Warning bells clanged in his head. Every instinct told him not to let her out of his sight.
    She ripped open the side drawers of her desk and rummaged through the contents roughly. A few small personal items were plucked out and placed into her purse, but most of the stuff she left behind. From the middle drawer she grabbed a beat-up magazine whose edges no longer remained flat but were rolled and torn, and she jammed that in her purse along with the rest. She maneuvered around the far side of her desk—opposite where he stood—and snagged an old sweater off the coat rack. By the time he caught up to her, she already had one foot out the door.
    Sonofabitch.
“Damn it, Sandra, tell me what’s wrong.” He trailed behind her, unsure if he should grab her and