Misguided Target by Jessica Page Page A

computer skills in school. Granted it was while getting my degrees in Computer Science and Cyber Operations from the Naval Academy and from on-the-job training, but still, she didn't need to know that.
    “Oh, so a Naval Intelligence Officer of sorts I see, very interesting,” she replied, trying to get more information out of me. I refused to engage any further on the topic. It was the best way to stop encouraging her questions. It didn't take long for her to lose interest and she eventually stepped away from me while I kept searching James' deleted history. There was a lot of information about secret meetings with lobbyist and other individuals, but nothing that would be important enough to kill for. A series of encrypted files got my attention, and they turned out to contain date and time stamps along with what looked like locations. There were also two sets of letters that looked like initials beside some sort of encoded descriptor. I didn't have time to try to decipher what all this meant, so I decided to take them with me. It was probably time to head out.
    I shut her computer and stuffed it back in her backpack. I looked around but couldn't see Kendall anywhere, “Kendall,” I called out, but she didn't answer. I walked up the stairs leading up to the second floor, “Kendall,” I called again, but still no answer.
    Panic shot through me. What if I hadn't checked the premises enough and someone had stayed behind? I ran down the hall, checking each room until I finally heard movement in the master bedroom. I quietly approached the closet, ready to take down whoever might be in there but all I found was Kendall rummaging through boxes in James' closet.
    “What are you doing?” I asked, feeling both relieved and irritated. This woman really had a way of getting under my skin.
    She tilted her head with a sarcastic smile, “I'm knitting a sweater,” she offered, causing a smile to creep onto my lips.
    She giggled before returning to the boxes she had placed on the floor. “I haven't found anything of interest yet, but he was smart enough not to keep incriminating documents in the open,” she offered, still deep in thought.
    “We should really get going soon.”
    “Yeah I know. I just can't help thinking there's something here,” she said, shaking her head in frustration. “Where are we going anyway?”
    “Listen, I have a hotel room. No one knows where it is. I got James' limo driver to pick me up at a coffee shop a few blocks from my hotel,” I stated, watching her brows shoot up, perplexed. “What?” I laughed. “You're wondering why I didn't get picked up at my hotel.”
    She nodded so I continued, “I didn't want James to know where I was staying because I didn't want to show up there and try to push me into seeing him if last night didn't go well,” I answered, watching her eyes soften with understanding. “Anyway,” I said bringing us back to the topic at hand, “I think it will be safe to go there, at least for tonight.”
    She got up and walked over to one of the custom-built dressers. Opening one of the drawers, she reached in and pulled out a blue sweater, handing it to me. “What's this for?” I asked.
    “Well you still have a little blood visible on your dress shirt. If nothing else, you and James are about the same shirt size.” She laughed uncomfortably.
    I scoffed aloud; I personally thought I was in way better shape than he was. “Thanks,” I said, unbuttoning my dress shirt and seeing a blush settle on her cheeks as she averted her eyes. I found it ironic that this small gesture made her so uncomfortable, given her former profession, “Okay, we should go,” I offered, once I had the sweater on. It actually did fit perfectly.
    “Yeah, I know,” she replied, sounding uncertain, suddenly fidgeting impatiently.
    “What's wrong?”
    “I just feel like there's something here that we're missing,” she said, running her hands through her freshly cut hair.
    “Well did James ever