"I remembered snagging it on a file folder Thursday and thought it must have come loose then. I didn't notify security because it seemed like a lot of bother when I was fairly certain it wasn't lost but was still in the office."
"But the sensors record you leaving the building that afternoon with the other members of your team. You had to have had your tag on for that to be possible, and believe me, Ms. Evans, the security works on both entering and exiting. If anyone crosses that threshold from any direction without the proper identification, it triggers an alarm."
"And that's why I'm telling you that the sensors have to be malfunctioning. When I discovered that I'd misplaced my tag, I called Cal Gilchrist and got him to check the office for me. He found my tag lying on the floor under my desk. He brought it back out to me and returned to his quarters while I began work. All you have to do is ask him."
"Mr. Gilchrist will be asked the appropriate questions. However, what the logs show is that both you and Mr. Gilchrist entered the building together and left together two minutes later. Then you reentered alone, and it was over an hour before Mr. Gilchrist returned."
"That's impossible. I did not go into the building until Mr. Gilchrist returned with my tag. What do your precious sensors tell you when two tags but only one body leave a building?"
The captain ignored her question and instead made a quick notation on the clipboard he carried. "Did you also misplace your tag on Sunday night?"
"No. I didn't enter the building on Sunday night." She couldn't prevent herself from giving Joe another quick, imploring glance. What was he thinking? Surely he didn't suspect her of sabotaging the lasers.
"The sensors say you did. And by your own testimony, your ID tag was with you."
"The tag was exactly where I had left it Friday afternoon when I put it on again this morning."
"You didn't move it at all during the weekend?"
"I spent the weekend in Vegas."
"And left your tag behind."
"Do you wear your ID tag off-base, Captain?" she shot back.
He said mildly, "I'd like to remind you that I'm not the one under suspicion."
"Under suspicion of what? Spell it out for me," she challenged.
He refused to be drawn. "You spent all weekend in
Vegas, you say. You didn't return to the base either Friday night or Saturday night?"
"No."
"Where were you in Vegas?"
"At the Hilton."
"There's more than one. But of course this can be verified?"
Joe interrupted. "Ms. Evans and I spent the weekend together. I can verify her time from late Friday afternoon until 1900 hours Sunday."
"I see." Captain Hodge kept his voice noncommittal, but Caroline's face burned. This time she didn't glance at Joe. "So the name tag was locked in your quarters the entire time."
She tried another calming breath. They didn't seem to be working very well. "Yes."
"You're certain your quarters were secured."
"Yes. I always double-check my door."
He looked skeptical. " 'Always' is a very exact term. It means without fail. Are you saying you've never failed to double-check your door?"
"On this occasion, Colonel Mackenzie himself checked the door while I watched."
The captain glanced at Joe, who nodded. Joe's eyes were hooded, his expression unreadable.
"You verify that the tag was in your possession and no one else's. You were recorded entering the work area at exactly-" he paused to check the log "-2347 on Sunday night."
"I was in bed at that time Sunday night."
"Alone?" the captain asked indifferently.
"Yes."
"No one can verify that. You say you were in bed. The computer log says you were in the work area."
"Talk to Cal Gilchrist!" she said fiercely. "Stop wasting time with this and verify what I've already told you."
"On Thursday morning, when I walked into your office you cleared the screen and turned the computer off," Joe said. His voice was cold and deep. "What was on the screen that you didn't want me to see?"
She stared at him in silence, completely at a loss. He sounded as certain of her guilt as Captain Hodge was, but surely he knew... She tried to concentrate, to bring the occasion to mind. Thursday morning. He had startled her yet again, she remembered, and when she had reflexively started to slug him he had jerked her into his arms. She remembered fiddling with the computer to give herself something to do while she tried to get a handle on her reaction to him, but she had no idea what she had been working on.
"I don't remember," she said weakly.
"Come on," he scoffed. "You remember everything. You have a mind like a steel trap."
"I don't remember," she repeated, staring at him. With a shock she realized that the expression in his eyes was one of disdain... disgust... even rage. Yes, it was mostly rage, but not the normal heat of temper. Joe Mackenzie's rage was ice-cold, and all the more frightening because of it. He was looking at her as if he could destroy her without regret. He didn't believe her!
The enormity of that realization almost choked her. As it was, a huge knot in her chest swelled until she could scarcely breathe, until her heart was beating with slow, painful effort. Had their situations been reversed she would have given him her complete, unqualified trust without hesitation, because, despite the evidence, she knew he would never betray his country. Evidently he believed her capable of doing just that. Her thought processes were orderly and logical, but all of a sudden a staggering instinctive knowledge filled her: she would trust him because she had been fascinated by him, intensely involved with learning about him as a man because she loved him, while for him their time together had been purely physical. He hadn't bothered to learn about her as a person because he didn't care.