Stalked - By Allison Brennan Page 0,110

at Sean. She couldn’t read his face. They hadn’t talked about what they were going to do when she graduated. The only thing she was certain about was that she wouldn’t be assigned to the Washington, D.C., office. Very few agents were assigned to the field office they were recruited from.

Joe DeLucca came over. “Good job, Lucy.”

“Thanks. I’m glad it’s over.”

“Suzi, we need to talk.”

“Not now.”

“Yes. Now.” Joe stared at her and Lucy was surprised that Suzanne gave in.

“All right. Just don’t call me Suzi.” But she smiled, and Lucy’s suspicions were confirmed. Joe and Suzanne had a history. Lucy couldn’t help but be happy. She liked them both. And their body language, though they weren’t touching, told her they liked each other a lot.

“What are you looking at?” Sean asked.

“Nothing.” She smiled and put her head on his shoulder. “While I’m getting this gash in my arm sewn up, you have to let the doctor look at your leg.”

“All right.”

“That was too easy.”

“I’m too tired to argue.” Then he smiled. “Maybe we can share a hospital room. We can play doctor.”

She laughed. “Don’t you have a hotel room reserved?”

“I do.”

“I think I can get a day off. Maybe two.”

He kissed her. “Princess, you’ve earned it.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Lucy returned to Quantico Wednesday night. She was surprised by the warm greeting from her classmates. “The assistant director himself came to fill us in on what happened,” Reva said. “Rick Stockton. Can you believe it?”

“I’m just glad I don’t have to repeat the story a dozen times,” Lucy said.

“Just once,” Carter said. “We deserve the details.”

“You do.” She smiled. “I appreciate your support, but right now I have to meet with the Chief. More reports.”

She breathed deeply as she walked across campus, alone, to Chief O’Neal’s office. Noah Armstrong was already inside.

“I’ve been briefed,” O’Neal said. “You can rejoin your class tomorrow if you can make up the work. I spoke with Tom Harden and he said you can have a PT pass until Monday if you need it. Or, if you need more time, the next new-agent class starts in ten days. You can take the time off, heal, and join with the new class.”

Lucy shook her head. “I want to stay with my class. And I’m fine. Just sore.”

The doctor had removed twenty-nine plastic splinters from the ceiling tiles and stitched up a gash in her left arm where one of Kip Todd’s bullets had grazed her.

“I’m glad,” O’Neal said. “You fit with your class. And after what happened with Sanchez, you’ll be instrumental in rebuilding class unity.”

“I have one favor,” she said. “Would you call in my field counselor, Agent Laughlin, and give me a minute to talk to him in private?”

Both Noah and O’Neal looked surprised, but she agreed. She left the room, and Noah said to Lucy, “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. I left the files you showed me in Tony’s office. Your office.” Noah was taking over Tony’s teaching position until they found a replacement. “Hans?” she asked hopefully.

“He was in surgery all day, now resting in ICU. Kate’s with him. I can drive you there, if you’d like.”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Lucy—” Noah stopped. She didn’t know what he’d planned on saying, but she didn’t think it was what he ended up telling her. “I put a commendation in your file. ‘Outstanding performance while under fire.’”

Lucy laughed while she also blushed with the praise. “Literally. I have a lot to learn, but I’m getting there.”

Noah hugged her. “I’m glad you decided to stay. Hans will be pleased when he wakes up.”

Lucy hoped she and Hans could regain the friendship they’d once had.

Rich Laughlin walked in. Noah nodded to the agent, then left.

Lucy didn’t say anything at first. She kept her eyes on Laughlin. The anger and frustration on his face were obvious, but his eyes questioned her. He didn’t know why she had asked for this meeting; he thought he’d won—that he’d found a way to kick her out of the Academy.

“You’re delaying the inevitable,” he said, breaking the silence.

“What’s inevitable?” she asked.

“You’re one of the ten percent.”

Laughlin was referring to the 10 percent of new agents who didn’t graduate from the Academy. Last week Lucy would have been angry with his comment, but today she understood.

Laughlin continued, “Just because you performed this time doesn’t mean you’ll do it next time.”

“I’m going to assume you’ve read my file,” Lucy said. “Not just this last case, but my personal file.”

Laughlin didn’t say anything, but it was clear he