True Honor by Dee Henderson Read Free Book Online

door.”
    “Interesting security.”
    “I’d prefer not to have a bomb in the trunk of my car on the drive to work. The Agency is a bit paranoid about things like that.”
    “The government owns this property?”
    “No, it’s privately owned, but most who live here do work for the government. Some work at the Agency, some are Foggy Bottom experts—that’s the State Department—and a few Pentagon short-tour officers. Basically people with heavy travel schedules, hence the security to protect often empty places.”
    The garage door rose, revealing two garbage cans against the east wall and shelves along the back wall that were bare except for four boxes neatly arranged and labeled. “Lived here long?” Sam asked.
    “Twelve years.”
    “This is way too neat.”
    Darcy laughed and got out her keys. “Come on up. This won’t take long.”
    Sam retrieved her bag from the trunk. Darcy paused and deactivated the alarm pad before unlocking the door between the garage and her apartment. Stairs immediately turned and went up. “The downstairs of the building is actually another apartment; mine is the entire second floor.” She turned on lights to reveal spider plants reaching down from the open banister above to almost touch the handrail. “They grow faster than I can keep them repotted. Watch out for the roller skates.”
    He nearly tripped on them on the second step before he caught her warning.
    Sam reached the top of the stairs. The living room was spacious with a sofa, two chairs, and bookshelves. An oval dining table and open counter led into a long kitchen along the back of the apartment. Darcy dumped her jacket on the sofa. “Make yourself at home.” She headed down the hallway toward what must be the bedrooms and bath.
    Sam slowly set down the suitcase as he looked around. Light blue carpet, deep blue and white fabric for the chairs and sofa, framed modern art on the walls; on the entertainment center with a TV and nice stereo equipment were shelves holding a matching series of progressively larger pottery pieces.
    LEGOs making a half-built castle were on the floor in front of the recliner. A stuffed dog peeked out behind the vase of daisies on the side table and a plush bear guarded the phone. Walt Disney videotapes were stacked beside classic Westerns. A child’s finger-paint art was on the walls beside the expensive paintings. From the size of the hands, Sam would guess maybe a child about age five.
    A man’s hat was tossed on the dining room table and a pair of running shoes about size twelve were near the basket where newspapers, magazines, and mail were piled. The well-read magazines on the floor back toward the basket ran to cars and Popular Mechanics.
    Darcy was married . . . she had a daughter.
    Sam picked up Darcy’s wedding picture from the end table. She looked happy and young. Her smile was stop-a-guy’s-heart beautiful, focused entirely on the man beside her. The second framed photo on the table looked recent, maybe six months old. Her husband had their daughter wrapped up in his hunting jacket that reached almost to the child’s feet, and they were together holding up a stringer that held ten good-sized bass. Sam could appreciate the need for a photo to document that catch.
    She’d done nothing to warn him, and she couldn’t have missed his interest in her. She’d deceived him deliberately. He set the picture frame down slowly. He didn’t appreciate getting used.
    He looked around the room again, absorbing the full impression and then surprisingly found himself smiling and relaxing. This was what he would have expected for Darcy had he not known her real job. This place looked like her, and it felt comfortable. Right down to the spelling book resting on the last cushion of the sofa with a pencil stuck in it to hold the page. She was a woman who would live like this, with her life out in the open, rather than tuck it away in tidy corners.
    Darcy walked back into the room carrying a