Exposed

Trained together at the Athena Academy, these six women vowed to help each other when in need. Now one of their own has been murdered, and it is up to them to find the killer, before they become the next victims….

Alex Forsythe:

This forensic scientist can uncover clues others fail to see.

PROOF, by Justine Davis

Darcy Allen Steele:

A master of disguise, Darcy can sneak into any crime scene.

ALIAS, by Amy J. Fetzer

Tory Patton:

Used to uncovering scandals, this investigative reporter will get to the bottom of any story—especially murder.

EXPOSED, by Katherine Garbera

Samantha St. John:

Though she’s the youngest, this lightning-fast secret agent can take down men twice her size.

DOUBLE-CROSS, by Meredith Fletcher

Josie Lockworth:

A little danger won’t stop this daredevil air force pilot from uncovering the truth.

PURSUED, by Catherine Mann

Kayla Ryan:

This police lieutenant won’t rest until the real killer is brought to justice, even if it makes her the next target!

JUSTICE, by Debra Webb

ATHENA FORCE:

They were the best, the brightest, the strongest—women who shared a bond like no other….

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATHERINE GARBERA

is an award-winning, bestselling author for Harlequin and Silhouette Books. Garbera started making up stories for her own benefit when she was on a competitive swim team in high school. Though she went to the state championships and usually medaled at swim meets, Katherine says her heart wasn’t in swimming but rather in the stories she created as she swam laps at practice. Katherine holds a red belt in the martial art of Tae Kwon Do and vows that there’s not a piece of plywood out there that can take her in a fair match. Readers can visit her on the Web at katherinegarbera.com.

To my family—Courtney, my little kick-*ss girl who knows there’s nothing she can’t do. You make me so proud to be your mom! Lucas, my stubborn won’t-give-up-until-I’ve-tried-every-avenue guy. And Matt, who gave me the greatest gift of all—our loving family.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Shannon Butler, who took time out of her busy schedule to explain to me how the television news business works and how to conduct an interview with a man who’d come back from the dead.

Thanks to Amy Fetzer and Cathy Mann, who helped me with the military stuff.

Thanks to Sue Kearney for helping me out when I thought all hope was lost.

Thanks especially to Eve Gaddy for always being willing to listen.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 1

V ictoria Patton held the phone away from her ear for a second and carefully covered the mouthpiece. “Hot damn!”

It looked as if all of her hard work had paid off. Of course, a good deal of luck was responsible for her being in the office when her boss had called in with the story. But he’d specifically asked for her, so she knew it was the break she’d been waiting for.

She pulled the phone back. “Of course, Tyson. I’ll be ready to go by six o’clock.”

Smiling, she hung up the phone, leaning back in her office chair. The halls of UBC, United Broadcasting Company, were quiet during the lunch hour. She spun her office chair around and stared out at the skyline of Manhattan. An office with a nice view wasn’t bad for a girl from a cattle ranch in south-central Florida. Days like today made the hard work and separation from her family worth it.

She turned back around and took in the evidence of how much she’d already achieved. One wall of her office held her journalism degree in a frame that her father had given her. The other wall held awards and framed photos that she’d picked up during her career. Her low credenza had neat and orderly shelves, but the top was cluttered with photos of her friends and family.

The surface of her desk held a blotter that she used to jot notes on and a green alligator pencil cup her brother had sent her when she’d done a story on the Florida Everglades. She also had a PVC figurine of Buttercup from the Power Puff Girls, because her practical joker co-workers thought she resembled the steely-eyed, tough-as-nails girl.

Tory was an up-and-coming television news reporter who’d been proving herself on the national level for the past five years. At five feet two inches tall, she knew she wasn’t exactly an imposing figure, but her insightful questions and keen ability to read between the lines had given her an edge few reporters had. She had black hair and green eyes that she’d been told were as mysterious as a cat’s. She knew that line had been corny flattery, but it suited her image of herself. At the age of twenty-eight, she was poised to take the national news media by storm, following in the footsteps of her role model, Diane Sawyer. At least, once she completed this interview she would be.

She was young to be considered for the job that her boss, Tyson Bedders, had just offered her—an exclusive interview with Commander Thomas King, a navy SEAL who’d been presumed dead for the past six months after a failed mission in the volatile island country of Puerto Isla in Central America.

Bedders had received a call from Joe Peterson, a public-affairs officer with the U.S. Navy, inviting Tory to go to Puerto Isla and interview King. Tory was to contact the minister of foreign affairs once she arrived on the island. The minister would coordinate the interview.

The details of King’s mission were sketchy, but she knew that the members of the SEAL platoon he’d been directing had all been killed and King had been declared dead with the rest of the troop. According to the information Tyson had, King’s platoon had been ambushed when they went in to rescue a group of American hostages being held on Puerto Isla.

The phone rang before she could completely digest the fact that she was leaving for Central America in less than six hours. There was a lot to do, including contacting her favorite cameraman, Jay Matthews. She wanted someone with her whom she could count on to film the story the way she wanted it captured.

“Patton.”

“Hi.”

It was Perry Jacobs, her boyfriend. She smiled to herself. Perry said he was too old to be anyone’s boyfriend. He always referred to himself as her significant other. She hated that term, because it suggested that there was nothing significant about her without that other.

Perry was a producer at UBC and they’d been working together for more than five years now. They’d been dating for the past four. He was nearly twenty years her senior and had more experience and knowledge of the business than anyone she knew.

Tory had been attracted to Perry from the first. At the start, she’d ignored the chemistry, not wanting to be fodder for the office rumor mill. Then they’d worked together on a feature story in Virginia, and the relationship had grown from there.

“Will you be home for dinner?” Perry had recently asked Tory to move in with him, and she still wasn’t sure about the situation. Her relationship with Perry was one of the things in her life that she questioned.

Which was why she’d kept her own apartment and never stayed over with him more than once a week. She didn’t want to encourage Perry to think too strongly in terms of permanency until she knew for sure that she really wanted to be with him for the man he was and not for the producer who had helped to make her into a top-rate journalist.

“Can’t. I’m going to Central America on assignment.”

“Where?” he asked. There was a note of resignation in his voice, and she suspected he knew that even without the assignment she wouldn’t have come over tonight.

“Puerto Isla. Tyson got me an exclusive with a navy SEAL who’d been presumed dead.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

Perry was right. Puerto Isla was dangerous. The small island was still struggling to keep its new government in place after a bloody coup four months earlier.

Alejandro Del Torro, the new leader, had been cooperating with the U.S. government to get much-needed aid to his suffering people. He’d come to power after leading a rebel movement. The people of Puerto Isla were leery of following another military man, but Del Torro was only an interim leader and was organizing the government and preparing to hold elections within the next six months.

Before Del Torro, the island had been controlled by Diego Santiago, a dictator and suspected drug lord, a man who had allowed the island’s coca-plant ranchers to supply many South American countries with the leaf that had become a part of their daily life. A leaf that the U.S. government was trying to eliminate because it was used to make cocaine and crack. Puerto Isla also served as a convenient stopover and refueling place for planes en route to Miami and the profitable American drug trade.

Tory was glad that she was fluent in Spanish. Languages came easily to her, and she figured she’d be able to communicate easily with the locals once she was on the island.

The interview was a step up from her usual kind of exposé assignment. Typically her stories involved going undercover with a hidden camera. Last year she’d been inside a women’s maximum-security facility, which had been chilling and had given her nightmares. Tory suspected that any juvenile delinquent who spent one night in that facility would never commit a crime again.

“Tyson thinks I’m ready for it,” she said. She’d like to hear that Perry did, too.

“Well, then I guess you are.”

As a vote of confidence that one sucked. She shrugged it off. “I’ve got to get my stuff together. So I really can’t talk.”

“I understand. When will you be home?”

“I’m not sure. Probably three days.” She opened her desk drawer and pulled out her passport and immunization record.

“Want a ride to the airport?” Perry asked.

“I think I’ll cab it. Don’t you have a story airing tonight?” Perry sometimes worked on Tory’s stories but he had a stable of reporters that he produced.

“Yes, but I’d make time for you, Tory.”

That warmed her heart. Moments like this one made it hard for her to decide what to do about Perry. “I know you would. Take care.”

“Be careful,” he said and hung up.

She dropped the phone back into the cradle and started making a list of things she had to do before she left. Her heart pumped faster and she knew that this was the kind of break she’d been working toward for a long time.

She checked her excitement as she realized the new assignment would take her away from a very personal investigation she’d been working on—the death of one of her closet childhood friends, Rainy Miller Carrington. Rainy had been Tory’s orientation group leader when she’d first gone to Athena Academy as a nervous seventh-grader.

Tory had been invited to attend the mysterious Athena Academy for the Advancement of Women at the age of eleven. The unique seventh-through-twelfth-grade boarding school was set up similarly to famed military schools, but had no affiliation with the military.

Rainy, a senior, had been put in charge of Tory and five other girls other who, after a rough start, had come together to become lifelong friends despite being from very different backgrounds.

They’d named their group the Cassandras for the prophetess who was doomed never to be believed. Tory liked the irony of being a reporter and a Cassandra. In fact many of her Athena friends had gone into careers that involved uncovering the truth. The other Cassandras were FBI forensic scientist Alexandra Forsythe, private investigator Darcy Allen Steele, CIA Agent Samantha St. John, Air Force Captain Josie Lockworth and Kayla Ryan, a police lieutenant.

They’d bonded while they worked hard at Athena. Tory had enjoyed the female camaraderie and the competition. At home Tory had always had to outsmart her older brother, Derrick, who liked to play tricks on her. For the most part she and Derrick had a good relationship, but he’d definitely kept her on her toes when she’d been younger.

She had gone into network news because she’d realized early on that getting answers and putting together the pieces of a puzzle were things she was good at. Her classes in archery, marksmanship and martial arts had been invigorating, but she’d really excelled in the subjects that focused on criminal procedure and investigation. She’d briefly debated going into law but in the end had decided to become a journalist. She liked writing and photography and she had a talent for getting people to open up and talk.

She opened her e-mail and found one waiting from Josie, summarizing the findings of the Cassandras’ investigation into Rainy’s death. Tory and Josie were very close friends. They seldom had time to get together in person, but they communicated via e-mail often.

The e-mail was written with a military efficiency.

To: Cassandras

RE: Rainy Miller Carrington

Facts (Recap):

 In August, Rainy enacts the Cassandra promise, summoning all available Cassandras to Athens, AZ. Meeting set for the third Saturday in August at Principal Christine Evans’s bungalow at Athena Academy, 2000 hours sharp. Kayla Ryan, Darcy Steele, Alex Forsythe and Josie Lockworth are present.

 Rainy dies in a car accident on her way to the meeting. Seat-belt failure contributed to the fatality. No evidence of tampering present.

 Alex attends Rainy’s autopsy. She discovers that the appendectomy Rainy supposedly had in her first year at Athena never happened. Old ovarian scars show evidence of egg mining. Alex brings FBI agent Justin Cohen in on the investigation. Cohen’s sister died twenty years ago in childbirth after becoming a surrogate mother, about nine months after Rainy’s supposed appendectomy. Records show the baby died, as well. Cohen suspects Athena Academy of a conspiracy resulting in sister’s death. No proof found.

 Kayla begins search of old medical records at Athena Academy for more information. Athena Academy continues to be under informal investigation. Nurse Betsy Stone potential suspect. Stone was a nurse the academy at the time of Rainy’s operation.

 Darcy finds ads for surrogate mothers in Arizona papers from the months before Rainy’s operation. Hypothesis is that Rainy’s eggs were used to make a child/children. Darcy finds Cleo Patra, a woman who answered the surrogate ad and subsequently gave birth to a baby girl. The child was kidnapped. Whereabouts unknown. Attempts made on Cleo’s and Darcy’s lives. Cleo now in hiding.

 Tory to investigate fertility clinic records for the time period surrounding Rainy’s operation for any possible links.

 Messages left for Samantha St. John to apprise her of the situation. Sam in touch infrequently by e-mail. Whereabouts currently unknown. Everyone please keep in touch with any new information.

Josie

Tory rubbed the back of her neck. Just before Rainy had graduated, all the Cassandras had made a vow that they would all come, no questions asked, if one of the Cassandras called for help. They’d called it the Cassandra promise. Rainy had been the first to call on it, and all of the Cassandras knew that the situation must have been dire indeed for Rainy to make that call.

Tory had been in Britain in July covering a major development with Ireland when Rainy had placed the call to the Cassandras. Tory hadn’t gotten the message until it was too late. Before she had a chance to respond, Kayla had called with the news of Rainy’s death. Tory had returned to the States just in time to attend Rainy’s funeral.

Tory was still coming to terms with Rainy’s death. If only she’d known…

She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She couldn’t go back in time and change things.

All the Cassandras were certain that Rainy’s car accident could not have been accidental. Much to their horror, the facts they’d put together indicated that Rainy’s death had something to do with Athena Academy.

Something that ex-Athena student and reporter for rival network ABS Shannon Conner had picked up on. Shannon had always been sneaky and a little under-handed when Tory and she had been at Athena.

In fact, Shannon had tried to frame Josie for theft, an event that had led Tory to the career she had today. The incident had become Tory’s first investigative case. She’d used the skills she’d acquired at Athena in criminal profiling and investigating to solve the crime, finding evidence to prove that Shannon had been the perpetrator.

Shannon had become the only student ever to be expelled from the school. And Tory knew Shannon hadn’t forgotten. She was always dogging Tory’s heels. It was funny that they’d both chosen media as a career, but on one hand it made sense. That incident with Josie had changed both women and had forced them to look hard at what they wanted.

For Tory, it was to always be a voice for those without one. To uncover the stories that had to be told.

She wasn’t sure what Shannon had taken away from the incident. But a few months ago, Shannon and her network had descended upon Rainy’s funeral and had aired an interview in which Shannon had raised questions about Rainy being used for scientific experiments while in school at Athena.

Shannon’s newscast had put the school in a bad light and had brought the school the unwanted publicity Athena had avoided since its founding more than twenty years ago. Tory had stepped in with a very up-beat piece about the school, which she hoped would counteract the negative publicity. But Shannon was still making noises about a follow-up on Athena, and Tory wasn’t going to let Shannon get away with ruining the school. Loyalty was one of the cornerstones of Tory’s life.

But even more important than neutralizing Shannon was finding out what had happened to Rainy, both now and in the past.

Darcy Steele had tracked down a surrogate mother who had carried a baby that might have been Rainy’s. All the Cassandras were committed to finding the child. Tory had promised to look into the ads and use her news sources to look for leads through fertility clinic records.

Kids scared her on so many levels. Another plus to dating Perry was that he had two grown kids from a previous relationship and he wasn’t looking to make her into a wife and mother. Tory freely admitted that settling down wasn’t in the cards for her. There were too many stories for her to cover to willingly give up her career for a husband and kids.

But she would do everything in her power to find Rainy’s baby. Tory frowned. That “baby” would be about twenty-one years old now. If he or she existed at all.

She’d researched a two-year window around the time the ads had run. And kept narrowing the search until she’d found something interesting—a break-in at a fertility clinic in Arizona about three months before Rainy’s surgery. She wasn’t sure it meant anything, so she’d sent the information to an old college friend, Lee Chou. Lee worked for the FBI crime lab in D.C. and was an expert at unraveling mysteries. Though Alex also worked for the FBI, she didn’t know Lee. And Tory knew that because Alex’s specialty was forensic science, Lee was going to be the man to get the information for her.

Tory dialed his number from memory.

“Chou,” he said, answering his phone on the third ring. He sounded the same as he always did. Tired, brusque and maybe a little mean.

Not the kind of guy you wanted to piss off. And that might be why they’d become fast friends at Columbia. Tory had the kind of sunny personality that balanced out the more abrupt people of the world.

“Hey, it’s Patton.”

“Twice in the same week. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked. It had been at least six months since she’d seen him.

“I can’t call to say hello?”

“You can, but you never do.”

“Sorry. I’ve been busy.”

“I know. Making quite a name for yourself. I saw that piece you did on Maurice Steele. Nice job. I was impressed.”

“Thanks, Lee. I was glad it turned out well.”

Maurice Steele was a Hollywood producer—and Darcy’s soon-to-be ex-husband. He’d been possessive and abusive to Darcy, but Darcy and her son were now free of Maurice and the world knew the truth about the kind of man he was. He’d soon be on trial for murdering one of his financial backers, a crime Darcy had exposed while fighting to be free of Maurice once and for all.

Tory had intended to put together a follow-up piece that delved into the Hollywood myth that celebrities were above the law, but her story had been eaten by the editor’s computer. The next evening Shannon Conner had gone on air with a similar story.

“Have you got anything for me yet?” Tory asked.

She heard the creak of his chair. She knew him well enough to guess that he’d probably propped his feet on his desk. “I’m not sure. I’m trying to track down a child that may not exist. This feels like one of those bizarre X-Files type cases that traces back to little green men.”

She glanced at the picture of her and the Cassandras that had been taken on graduation day. It hung on her wall where she could easily see it.

“Chou, you’ve been watching too much TV. I have some old print ads that I received from a friend that might be connected to the burglary at the fertility clinic. Can I e-mail them to you?” she asked.

She addressed an e-mail to him, then scanned the old print ads that had led Darcy to the surrogate and attached them to the e-mail. She explained a little more of the background and what she knew about the situation.

“I’ll look into it and get back to you.”

“Thanks, Lee. I’m going to be out of the country for a few days, so contact me via e-mail if you find anything.”

While she was on the Internet she sent a brief message to AA.gov. The Athena Academy alumni Web site had been created by several Athena grads. Along with maintaining the Athena student network, they worked with the intelligence community to provide couriers. Tory did some work for them because her job provided really good cover. She had a legit reason to be in many of the world’s hot spots.

She let them know she was going to Puerto Isla, mentioned her flight number and then shut down her computer. She had to go home and pack.

Tory leaned back in her chair, crossed her booted feet and smiled to herself. This SEAL story was going to be the one to take her into the big leagues. She could feel it in her bones.

Chapter 2

“T ory Patton, please pick up the white courtesy phone. Tory Patton to the white courtesy phone.”

Tory slipped her shoes back on and then gathered her laptop case and large carry-on. Having just passed through airport security, she had about forty minutes to waste before her flight took off. She found the white courtesy phone and gave her name.

“Your mother left a message for you. You can get hepatitis from the water, so watch what you drink. And that tunnel trick is getting old. Be careful.”

“Thanks,” Tory said. “Any other messages?”

“Just that one,” the operator said with a chuckle.

Tory smiled. Her mother had called while Tory was on her way to the airport and had proceeded to give her usual safety lecture. Tory had pretended cell phone interference in the tunnel and had hung up on her. No matter how old she got, Evelyn Patton insisted on seeing Tory as about twelve. She made a mental note to call her mother from Miami. She hung up the courtesy phone, then turned and bumped into a man. He steadied her and leaned close.