High-Caliber Concealer by Bethany Maines Page A

was that she could probably hack
into the Canadian system, but a nervous glance at Darla showed that
she didn’t want to say it.
    “But I do,” said Darla waking up the
computer. “How do I do it?”
    Jane dropped her phone and moved to the
other side of the desk. Talking quickly, she walked Darla through
the process. Nikki watched as Jane’s jet-black head bobbed next to
Darla’s cinnamon-colored one. Darla was right about one thing, as
long as Nikki and her team were in LA, the branch was never going
to follow Darla. Darla ought to be able to have support from the
women in her command. This incident would never have gotten this
far if everyone had been talking to each other. For the good of the
company, she was probably going to have to do something. The
question was, what?
    “That bitch!” growled Darla, slamming her
palm down on the desk, then looking at Nikki. “I sent your team to
Alberta as a personal favor—and this is how she repays me? I knew I
couldn’t trust her.”
    “I thought you and the Alberta Branch leader
were friends,” said Ellen, exchanging looks of confusion with
Jenny.
    “She saved my life once,” said Darla shaking
her head. “I owed her. She said she needed a sniper, and I figured
if I sent you we’d be square. She’s the one who deleted your
report.”
    “Oh,” said Ellen. “I thought it was weird
for you to be friends considering that she was such a racist and
you seem fine with…” Ellen paused and blushed.
    “And I’m married to a black guy?” finished
Darla. “Yeah, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to get clear of
the debt I owed her. I don’t like being around her.”
    “Check this out,” said Jane, pointing at the
screen. “Ellen’s report isn’t the only one she deleted.”
    “I’m going to file a formal complaint,” said
Darla, her eyes sparkling. “Threaten me, will she? Can you print
out a report on this?” she asked Jane, pointing at the screen, and
Jane nodded. “And then I need you to start tracking down the agents
who originated the reports. I need more ammunition.”
    “Give me a minute,” said Jane, already
reaching for the desk phone.
    “It won’t be enough,” said Nikki, perching
on the windowsill, and leaning back against the glass, warm in the
afternoon sunshine.
    “What do you mean?” asked Darla, looking as
if she’d just remembered Nikki were in the room.
    “It’s an international incident, right? If
it had stayed between you and what’s-her-name in Alberta, it’d be
fine. But she’s already filed a formal complaint against us, hasn’t
she? It’s going before the Council.” The Council was the
international ruling body of Carrie Mae. From there the
organization forked into smaller and smaller units: divisions,
branches, units, teams, and finally the lowly agent.
    “It doesn’t matter. Not with this
information. I can fight back.” Darla’s eyes sparkled with the
prospect of holy battle.
    “We’ll still be a liability,” said Nikki. “I
told you. We’ve got to think about the future.”
    “I’m not going to fire you. That cop was
killing girls and one of our own people ignored it.”
    “The Council is old school,” said Nikki,
shaking her head. “They already think Mrs. M and ‘her girls’ are
troublemakers.”
    “Do they?” asked Jenny, looking surprised.
“You never told us that.”
    Nikki shrugged. “Mrs. M never considered
you, or your actions, a liability. She didn’t want you to behave
any differently.”
    “I can put you on two weeks unpaid leave,”
said Darla slowly. “That way I’m punishing you—addressing the
infraction in-house—but during the course of my investigation into
your actions I’ve discovered several breaches in protocol on the
part of the Alberta Branch. Breaches that The Council should
address. It’ll change the focus of the investigation.” She sat back
in her chair, and eyed Nikki. “I should have come to you before
now. I misinterpreted your