Free In Harm's Way (Heroes of Quantico Series, Book 3) by Irene Hannon

out slow and measured as he fixed
her with a steady, candid gaze.
    Rachel tried not to look too astonished at his disarming honesty. "Oh. Well ... in any case, I hate to infringe on your free
time."
    One corner of his mouth quirked up. "I'm used to unusual
hours. The bad guys never take a day off."
    Her own lips twitched in response. "I guess that's true. Okay
... if you're positive you don't mind, why don't I take your
coat?"
    He shrugged it off and handed it to her, waiting until she took
a seat on one end of the couch before claiming the other end.
    "I thought about the situation on the drive over." He shifted
toward her and draped one arm across the upholstered back.
"I had dinner with two couples last Friday night after you and
I talked. They're the ones I told about your situation. Both of
the men are agents. One of the couples lives in Virginia and
was only here for the weekend. There was no opportunity for
him or his wife to tell anyone in St. Louis. The other agent and
his wife live here. I called him from my car. They haven't said
anything to anyone, either. I'm thinking the leak had to be from
your end. You mentioned you'd told a friend about the incident
and asked her to check with her husband. Could anyone have
overheard the two of you talking?"
    "No. We were alone in the teachers' lounge:'
    "What about your friend or her husband? Could they have
told someone else?"
    "I asked Marta not to, and she promised me neither of them
would say a word. I trust her."

    Nick raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head.
"This doesn't make sense:"
    "Kind of like the story I told you last week:" Rachel flashed
him a quick smile devoid of humor.
    "Actually, that story seems more plausible to me now"
    Rachel leaned forward intently. "What do you mean? Did you
discover some information about the doll?"
    "No. But the wife of one of the agents I had dinner with last
week is a psychologist. She suggested the doll may be a trigger
for some memory buried deep in your subconscious. And since
the reaction only happens when you touch it, she thought the
tactile sensation could be tapping into that memory"
    Rachel's brow puckered. "I suppose that's possible. Looking at
the doll doesn't bother me in the least. In fact, it gives me kind
of a warm feeling. Only touching it is bad. I don't remember
having a Raggedy Ann doll, but I spent my childhood in foster
care and very little went with me from house to house. So I may
have had one at some point"
    His eyebrows arched. "You were a foster child?"
    "Yes. My mother was killed in a car accident when I was
nine months old. From what little I've been able to glean about
her, she was a single mom with no family except a father who
disowned her after she became pregnant. That's her, on the
mantel. It's the only picture I have"
    Nick examined the photo of the young auburn-haired mother.
The highlights in Rachel's hair bore the same hue, but beyond
that, he saw little resemblance. Yet she did remind him of someone, though he couldn't put his finger on who. And this wasn't
the time to try and solve that riddle. At the moment, he was
more interested in the woman beside him-and her surprising
revelation.
    Shifting his attention back to Rachel, Nick tipped his head.
"No one adopted you?"

    She gave him a rueful smile. "No one wanted me. I was in
the accident too, and sustained serious injuries. You might have
noticed my limp. This ankle has lots of bolts and screws" She
wiggled her right foot. "I can't blame potential adoptive parents
for backing off. Who would want to take on a kid with lots of
injuries requiring multiple surgeries? So when I wasn't in the
hospital or rehab, I was in foster care. A Raggedy Ann may
have been part of my life, but if it was, the memory is buried
very deep" She pulled her left leg under her. "Getting back to
the reason for your visit-how do you think my story leaked
to the press?"
    Nick didn't want to talk about the