Road Less Traveled by Cris Ramsay

were probably why he almost didn’t see Allison heading toward him down the hall.
    â€œWhoa!” He sidestepped just in time to keep from barreling into her, or her into him. “Everything okay, boss?” She looked a little dazed, which wasn’t like her at all. Allison Blake was the original calm, cool, and collected.
    â€œHm?” She stared at him, but he wasn’t sure her eyes were really focusing on him. He pulled off the headphones.
    â€œAre you okay?” He liked Allison—of all the people he’d worked for, she was the only one who gave him enough freedom to be truly creative while still providing enough clear discipline to keep him from getting out of hand. That was impressive. He even considered her a friend, which he never would have believed in the old days. Must be JoJo’s influence, mellowing him.
    Right.
    â€œI’m fine,” Allison answered, but she frowned at him. “Thanks.” Then she turned and continued the way she’d been heading.
    Zane watched her go for a second, puzzled. She wasn’t acting like herself. Should he go after her and find out what was going on? After a tick he shook his head. Friend or not, Allison was still his boss, and still the director of all of GD. She had to manage every project in this place, most of them heavily classified, and she wouldn’t appreciate Zane poking his nose into somewhere he didn’t belong. He’d asked if she was okay; she’d said she was. Nothing more he could do.
    Pulling his earphones on again, he turned the music back up and was soon lost in vector calculations once more. Humming along to the music, he continued toward his lab, making occasional notes on the pad as he went. And keeping an eye out for any other possible collisions.

CHAPTER 8
    Carter leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk. “So what you’re saying is—”
    â€œâ€”we’ve got no leads,” Jo finished, pacing the space between his desk and hers. “None at all. Nothing from the security logs, nothing from the access panel, nothing from the lab itself. Nothing anywhere.”
    â€œGot it.” He scooped the baseball off his desk and tossed it up in the air, then caught it and tossed it again. “We have no idea who stole the egg, no idea what they want with it, no idea where they are, and no idea if they’re caring for it properly or if it might explode into living lightning at any second.”
    â€œExactly.” Jo reached out, lightning-fast, and snagged the baseball before it could fall back into his waiting hands. “And that might not have been the case if you hadn’t saddled me with the world’s greatest detective as a sidekick.”
    â€œOh, come on. He’s not that bad, is he?” Carter watched her warily, both her eyes and the hand that was gripping his baseball so tightly her knuckles had gone white. He already knew from the one time they’d played baseball—albeit Eureka’s high-tech virtual version—that she had a killer fastball. He really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it, especially not at this close range. And him without a bat.
    â€œHe’s worse,” his deputy insisted through gritted teeth. “He asks questions about everything I’m doing, stands so close I can hear him breathing, touches things without thinking, throws away valuable potential evidence without a second thought—he’s a disaster!”
    â€œAre you sure this isn’t just because he’s always had a crush on you?” Carter quickly held up his hands, then, because Jo’s eyes had flared and her arm had cocked back of its own accord. “Whoa, just kidding, just kidding. No need to go all Wild Thing on me.”
    She sighed and tossed him the ball, which he caught after only a minor fumble. “I know. And you know I consider him a friend. It’s just that he’s annoying enough