FEARLESS by Helen Kay Dimon

agents under his shoe. When he got bad news, the person delivering it often felt the wrath.
    The deputy had earned his position. His appointment was not part of the good-old-boy network that sometimes came with prime assignment. But he insisted, irrationally so, that things run smoothly and let everyone feel his displeasure when that didn’t happen.
    Ben had heard stories. Standing there in the outer office of the suite, he remembered every single one of them.
    The deputy’s assistant, Wayne Kline, knocked on the door and only pushed it open after being ordered in. Even then he didn’t venture fully inside. “Sir, we have a problem.”
    Deputy Worth waved them on without looking up from the files spread out in front of him. “Not the words any boss wants to hear at the end of a long day.”
    Ben glanced around the office. These weren’t the usual government digs, but NCIS Headquarters had moved to this space in Quantico, Virginia, only a few months ago. The suite was large and plush and, unlike the old offices at the Navy Yard in southeast D.C., had windows that opened and you could see out of.
    Behind the huge desk loaded with two computers to match two wall-mounted screens sat Worth, the NCIS legend who had stopped an attack at Camp Pendleton years ago by taking a domestic terrorist down before anyone could get hurt. His career had gone stratospheric after that. People tolerated much because of his past.
    The deputy continued to flip pages. “What is it?”
    Wayne cleared his throat. Even looked a little green around the mouth as he talked. “It’s about Martin Coughlin.”
    “Spit it out.” Ronald looked up. For the first time his eyes focused on something other than paperwork. “Who are you?”
    “Special Agent Ben Tanner.”
    “Right. I remember.”
    Ben had no idea if that was good or bad.
    Worth looked Ben up and down with a scowl that suggested he’d sized up his opponent and found him wanting. A terrific way to start a meeting. “What is this about?”
    Ben had heard the deputy appreciated facts, so he got right to them. “Steve Wasserman was murdered today.”
    Leaning back in his leather chair, the deputy’s laserlike stare zeroed in on Ben. With an elbow on the armrest and a pen flipping between his fingers, he frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
    Ben stepped up and slid a file across the man’s desk. When the deputy kept staring, Ben launched into an oral briefing. “You knew him at the Naval Academy in the mid-eighties.”
    “I’m aware of when I graduated. Get to the point.”
    “Wasserman was one of the witnesses on Coughlin’s security-clearance interview list.”
    And that was the problem. Martin Coughlin was Worth’s old friend and choice for appointment as the NCIS’s senior intelligence officer. The deputy had pushed for Martin and insisted the security-clearance steps be fast-forwarded. Martin had been in the office as recently as two days ago to talk about the position.
    The tap, tap, tapping of the pen continued. “Are you asking to investigate this matter?”
    “Yes, sir.” Ben shifted his weight from foot to foot because this guy’s intense stare had the power to make you question everything. “There are some jurisdictional issues, but the matter is delicate. We should handle it internally.”
    The deputy stared for what felt like a full minute then nodded. “Do it. I’ll pull the necessary strings. Is there anything else?”
    “The case is unusual in that Wasserman volunteered to talk as part of Coughlin’s security-clearance investigation. And, in general, there are suspicious circumstances surrounding the death.”
    The pen stopped waving. With careful precision, the deputy set it on top of his stack of files. “Isn’t that always the case with murder? I mean, was the killer hovering over the body?”
    “No, sir,” Wayne said from his position just inside the office door.
    The deputy never broke eye contact with Ben. “Then, while the death is