Page 74 of Nothing to Fear

She tensed. “I told you. I caught him in your office and read him the riot act.”

He lifted a brow and waited.

A flush crept into her cheeks as she started fast talking. “I never told you because it’s embarrassing. The whole May-December thing. I’m much too old for him, by fifteen years.”

That was what embarrassed her? Sanborn was no ageist and no hypocrite. The age gap was bigger between him and Doc. But some desires simply couldn’t be indulged if it made you a liability.

And now he had to examine under a microscope of suspicion someone outside black ops he had trusted implicitly, who’d been with him since his Agency days—Janet.

He’d all but ruled out his own people as the traitor. He knew the fiber of their characters, what made them tick. They would never betray him for money, ideology, or out of arrogance. But after what he’d witnessed in the hall, he was painfully aware that it was possible someone had gotten close to one of his people, inside or outside the office, and had found a way to compromise and coerce them. Fear was a powerful motivator for the weak and would prevent someone from coming to him for help.

But the fact remained that Sybil would do anything to cover her ass. Perhaps she’d go so far as to lead the witch hunt on Willow while protecting a leak in her own department.

What he wouldn’t give to have Knox by his side at such a time, but his second-in-command was deployed for a good reason, and recalling him wasn’t an option.

Doc, Amanda, and Daniel came down the hall, Castle following close behind.

Scratch his workout time. What bomb was going to drop next?

“You and I need to have a chat,” he said to Janet before the others were within earshot.

Her eyes grew wide, and she nodded.

Entering his office, he removed his suit jacket. Janet swiped it from his hand, throwing it on a hanger and hook in the corner. She insisted the bespoke Savile Row garment shouldn’t be slung on the back of his chair. After his divorce, it mattered little to him where he hung the handmade suits his silver-spoon ex-wife had purchased.

The smell of strawberries and cream wafted into the room along with Doc, giving him a jolt of energy. With her beatnik, flower child charisma, he always expected her to smell like patchouli.

Thankfully, she didn’t.

“Coffee?” Janet asked him.

He shook his head and sat.

Doc’s gaze met his as she claimed a chair in front of his desk with a smile. Her bright baby-blues reeled him in, her coppery-blond hair falling in soft curls. She was some kind of beautiful.

He forced his thoughts to realign, reminding himself—everyone’s motives were suspect.

“What’s up?”

“Time for the situational report,” Amanda said. “I’m still trying to help Doc run down the origin of our smallpox weapon.” With Amanda’s DEA background, she was an expert at picking up trails and tracking things down. “Whoever modified and weaponized the strain had to get an original sample from somewhere. So far, I’ve hit lots of dead ends.”

“I’m flying to Atlanta today,” Doc said. “To follow up on a possible lead.”

CDC headquarters on a Sunday. “Why can’t you handle it over the phone?”

“A contact at headquarters might know something, but he’s scared. Won’t talk over the phone.”

“If you think it might be dangerous, I can send someone with you. Maybe Ares?”

No secret Ares was sweet on Doc. Once the mole problem was resolved and Doc was no longer under suspicion, Sanborn would take her up on her offer of dinner and exercise. As long as he wasn’t stepping on toes. Lady’s choice, of course.

She usually went out of her way to avoid Ares like the man was a walking bad rash, but it made Sanborn wonder whether she hated Ares or had a thing for him.

“No, please don’t send him.”

Halle-freaking-lujah.

“I don’t need backup, and if I did, Maddox would be a better choice. She’s warmer than I expected. There’s a real girl’s girl hidden beneath her tough exterior.”