Mission: Impossible to Deny (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 7) Jacki Delecki (comprehension books .txt) 📖

was born with some sort of birth defect. He had several surgeries when he was a kid. The only reason he told Charlie and me was that his parents got him his first video game after his second surgery.”

“He died of heart failure, not the gunshot wound. He had cocaine in his system. The ME thinks that his level of stimulants caused his cardiac failure. Is there any chance Tex was involved with Charlie?”

“No way. It’s not totally out of the realm that Charlie got caught up in drugs. Charlie was on a full ride at Stanford. His dad split when he was a baby, leaving him with his drug addict mom. Life wasn’t easy for him, surrounded by all the rich kids at Stanford. Tex had overprotective parents whom he was very close to as an only child. And Tex was a straight arrow. I never saw him drink a beer. And if he were working with Charlie, why was he investigating his death?”

She nodded as she swung back into traffic. “We’re almost there. We need to discuss how to run the interview with Wainwright. The purpose is to find out anything we can about Tex or Charlie, anything about their recent work, without alerting him that I’m CIA or about the attack on the embassies.”

“I told him that I was in town for a conference and was trying to catch up with old Stanford friends.”

“Since he doesn’t know of our stop in Santa Barbara, you’ll have to act shocked if he somehow has learned of Tex’s death. The agency is trying to suppress the media coverage of the murder. They don’t want any publicity around the game.”

“I don’t plan to share the information about Charlie’s resurrection either. This is strictly reconnaissance under the guise of a visit with a beloved mentor. Wainwright knew the three of us. And his perspective and memories will be different than mine. He also is the only other person who understood how we developed the game. Not that he was privy to the actual code.”

“Let’s introduce me as a colleague from Seattle. We are both attending the same conference.”

“Sure, and when Wainwright asks you about the conference?” Reeves knew that a smart cookie CIA officer already knew what the best cover was. He enjoyed waiting her out.

“Good point. I’ll have to be your girlfriend who came to the conference for a break.” Her lips were pressed together.

“You think that’s the best cover? I’m not sure Wainwright would believe we’re together. You’re going to have to act nice and friendly.”

“Don’t be an ass. And don’t get carried away with the affection. Remember I’m carrying.”

She now had the Sig that the guard had brought to the front door last night when she and Reeves were in the pool.

“No, honeybunch. I would never put you in an uncomfortable situation with unwanted love and affection. I know how miserable it would make you.”

She was white-knuckling the steering wheel again. She must care, or she wouldn’t react. Sure, and giraffes flew.

Chapter Ten

Reeves gently placed his hand on Darcy’s back to escort her into Professor Wainwright’s office. She gritted her teeth, knowing how much Reeves would enjoy this charade. The room was large with a bank of wide windows that provided an impressive view of the campus. A computer was placed center on a small desk that faced the window. Shelves, heavy with books, lined two walls; a work table was in the middle of the room. Books, stacks of papers, old coffee cups, and foam containers were scattered on both the wood table and the scarred desk, giving the room a musty stench. Several pairs of reading glasses lay in the middle of the chaos.

Wainwright pushed away from his desk and moved toward them, his hands open in welcome. For all the empty food containers, the professor was a lean, wiry man in his mid-sixties. His glasses were shoved on the top of his disheveled, salt-and-pepper hair; his rumpled Oxford shirt was partially tucked into his dress pants. His receding hairline emphasized his prominent forehead and beak nose. He barely resembled his distinguished faculty picture on the Stanford website, more like a harried appliance salesman.

“Reeves, you haven’t changed a bit.”

Darcy felt the rumble of Reeve’s laughter shooting sparks of awareness down her spine.

“My hair’s a bit shorter.” Reeves shook hands with Wainwright, who eyed Darcy while grinning at Reeves. “Darcy, meet Professor Wainwright. He deserves credit for putting up with Tex, Charlie, and me when no other faculty would.”

“A great exaggeration. I was lucky to have the three brightest stars, all interested in computational theory.”

Something didn’t ring true about his false modesty. He was at the top of the food chain at a prestigious university.

“Professor Wainwright, this is the love of my life—my girlfriend, Darcy Wilson.” Reeves smiled down at her, his eyes shining with pride as if he meant his words.

She was going to pound him for making her insides get all mushy just from his warm gaze. She offered her hand to the professor. Handshakes were a good way to gauge the emotional state of an adversary.

His thin hands were clammy, and he barely grasped her hand. Either he was anxious around women or socially awkward. There was no reason for him to be nervous. She noted no wedding ring and no family pictures anywhere in his office.

“Come sit down.” He pointed to the table in the center of the room. “I want to hear what you’ve been working on, Reeves. I always thought you would stay in academics. You were the best of the group at translating complex theory to the undergrad students.”

“Honey, why don’t you sit here?” Reeves held the chair that gave her a view of the door and the room, directly across from Wainwright. A point for Reeves for situational awareness.

“As you must know, Darcy, Reeves had a following of the female students. He’s quite the charmer with the women.”

Reeves’s cheeks flushed. Interesting. She didn’t know anything about his dating