They said virtually anyone could get a secret clearance, but one secretary claimed she’d never get one and refused to apply. I wondered what transgression she’d committed. Rode hard and put away wet, she was an intriguing, handsome thirty-six nonetheless with her hair done up in a dirty blonde French braid. After working for us six months, the Federal Marshalls pounded on our door, demanding to see her. They dragged her out in cuffs. I later heard she’d embezzled from her previous employer in Colorado—as office manager of a small construction company, she’d written herself one too many checks.
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"Classic"
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