The Target by L.J. Sellers Read Free Book Online Page A

“My assistant asked to take the opening with Mr. Grissom, and we all agreed that would be for the best. So the open position is now as my assistant. Can you work for a woman?”
    Oh great. She was difficult to work for.
“Of course. As long as a boss is competent and respectful, gender is irrelevant.”
    “Define respectful.” She didn’t smile.
    “I just mean no verbal abuse. I’m pretty thick-skinned about everything else.”
    “Will you work late if needed?”
    “Of course. I don’t have kids or social obligations.”
    “Good. Your résumé has all the qualifications, so the decision is personal. I need someone who won’t run out of here at five if we’re in the middle of something.”
    “I’m task-oriented, so I never quit halfway.”
    “I see you worked for MediGuard. I’m curious about what’s in their pipeline.”
    A test.
“That was a few years ago, but I’m not comfortable revealing anything they consider proprietary.”
    Decker nodded. “Then you understand that everything you learn here must be kept strictly confidential.”
    “Of course. This is a very competitive business.”
    A flicker in her eyes. “What are your ambitions?”
    “I’m taking business classes in the evening, and I’d like to run a consulting firm some day.”
    Decker cocked her head. “Why?”
    “I want to get paid for telling people things they already know or should know.”
    The executive laughed. “I like you, J.C.” Decker suddenly leaned in. “What do you know about microbial research?”
    Not enough,
Dallas realized. If it was Decker’s passion, this might be the critical question. She smiled. “Intestinal microbes have tremendous potential to cure diseases, and I’m not squeamish about the idea, if that’s what you’re asking.”
    Cheryl Decker pushed out of her chair, as if she just remembered something. She grabbed a notebook from her desk and began thumbing through it. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “I don’t allow social media during work hours. Are you on Facebook?”
    “No. I’m a private person.” Fortunately, the undercover team hadn’t created any media accounts for her background. And now she wouldn’t either.
    “Our dress code is pretty flexible, but no cleavage and no hooker outfits.”
    Dallas wanted to laugh. “I respect that. Who needs unwanted sexual attention at work?” She was glad she’d left her blouse fully buttoned.
    “I’m in the middle of an important project that needs immediate assistance. Can you start tomorrow?”
    “I’d love to.”
    “Then go see HR for the paperwork and a security pass.”

Chapter 8
    Thursday, July 10, 9:15 a.m.
    The hospital room door was open, so Cortez stepped in. Sergeant Riggs stood next to a bed where Detective Hawthorne lay with his leg in a cast. The sergeant turned. “Come in, Cortez. This is good timing.”
    A ripple of apprehension caught in Cortez’s throat. The sergeant usually supervised from his desk. Was the boss taking over the case? “Yes, sir.” He moved toward the two. Politeness required him to ask Hawthorne how he was doing, but everything he came up with sounded stupid, so he simply nodded.
    Riggs turned to him. “Hawthorne and I were discussing the Avery case. With him being injured and you so inexperienced, I think we should turn it over to the next team in the rotation.”
    No!
“I’d really like to keep it, sir. I think I can be an asset.”
    “Sorry, but this one will get a lot of media attention, and we need to solve it quickly.” Riggs—‌with arms like an orangutan—‌slapped his shoulder. “Please turn over any notes or photos to the lieutenant and he’ll reassign it.”
    “But Mr. Avery’s wife hasn’t been contacted yet,” Cortez argued, surprising himself. “I finally found their information, and I’d like to be the one to tell her.”
    The sergeant blinked in surprise. “Why?”
    “Because I respect James Avery’s career. I think his wife will be more receptive to