Intersection (3 page)

Cassidy’s gaze narrowed but a slight smile began to creep onto her face. Something about Alex made her feel safe. She watched the agent sip her coffee. Alex’s stare had drifted into the cup and she appeared to be lost in some private thought. “So…what do we do?” Cassidy chimed.

Alex nearly choked on the coffee as she processed the question; her mind preoccupied with her study of the congressman’s ex-wife far more than the situation at hand. Cassidy giggled slightly and handed the agent a towel. “Long day, huh?”

Alex gave an embarrassed smile, “something like that… yes.” Cassidy nodded. “Look…Mrs. O’,” Cassidy raised an eyebrow at the agent. “Cassidy…is there anyone, anyone that you have noticed hanging around more than usual…someone you don’t know… at work or here…. Your son’s school?”

Cassidy’s body shuddered at the last part of the agent’s question. “Are you worried about Dylan?”

Alex saw the fear that she knew only could appear in a parent’s eye and immediately set out to calm it. She reached across the island and touched Cassidy’s hand. “I’m just covering the bases,” she said with an encouraging glance.

Cassidy inhaled and stared at the table top. The thought of Dylan in danger shook her to her core and the feel of the agent’s hand on hers produced what felt to her like a surge of electricity. Alex removed her hand and continued. “Anyone at all?” She asked gently.

The woman across from her swallowed hard. “I must just be reacting to the possibility of Dylan in danger,” she silently assured herself before looking up to answer the agent. “No… no one…well, except the endless parade of photographers and reporters. They can change from one minute to the next. Their faces just sort of blend after a while, you know?”

“I’m sure,” Alex said. “Try and pay more attention to them… if you can…if anyone seems more consistent than the others.” Cassidy nodded her understanding.

Just then she heard the front door open. “Cassie?” Rose called.

“In here, Mom.”

In an instant a small voice broke loose, “Mom! Look!” Alex looked over the island to see a small boy holding up a blue ribbon of some sort.

“What’s this?” Cassidy asked, taking it and looking at it.

“First Place,” he said with a decided nod.

“He won the fifty yard dash at Field Day,” Rose said, now entering the kitchen and catching sight of Alex. “Oh…hello,” she greeted.

“Oh… Alex Toles… meet my mother, Rose McCollum.”

“Nice to meet you,” the agent greeted, extending her hand.” Rose smiled and accepted the gesture.

“And this,” Cassidy said lifting the boy onto her lap, “is my famous sprinter, Dylan.”

Alex watched as the woman brushed aside the boy’s short bangs and looked on him with pride. Her eyes seemed to dance as she looked at him. What was it about this woman; she wondered to herself. “Well, hello Dylan,” the agent said.

“Ms. Toles is going to stay with us for a little while to help Mommy with some things,” Cassidy explained.

“Like the dishes?” He asked looking at the agent.

Cassidy laughed. “Not exactly.” He looked at his mother, puzzled, and then at the agent who rose to her feet.

“Actually,” Alex smiled, “I’m very good at dishes.” She picked up the mugs and brought them to the sink.

“Oooo… I like her,” Rose joked.

Cassidy shook her head. “You don’t have to…”

Alex smiled as she rinsed the mugs. “I actually have many talents…including the knowledge of dishwashers,” she kidded.

Cassidy laughed. “Well, I look forward to learning exactly what those are,” she quipped back. Alex smiled. This assignment was not turning out at all as she had expected hours ago.

he newspaper leaned slightly on the bar as the news played a reel of Congressman Christopher O’Brien in the background. The congressman was walking with the president and some other dignitaries. The hands holding the paper trembled slightly as the man pulled his glance to the monitor above. His eyes became almost slits as he watched the short reel play and he returned his attention to the photograph on the page.

“He’s a fool,” the bartender noted looking at the picture and then at the monitor himself. “Beautiful woman like that… what an idiot.” The man leered at the bartender. “What? You got something against beautiful women,” the bartender cracked, “or just politicians?”

The man returned to the photo and reached for his glass, downing the final sip of his whiskey. He looked at the photo for another long moment before reaching in his pocket and placing a five dollar bill on the counter. He traced the photo with his index finger longingly and stood to make his exit. He was tall and well-built with a military style haircut and deep brown eyes. He sauntered toward the door, apparently aware of his good looks. A young woman at the far end of the bar reached out for him as he began to pass by, paper in hand. “Hey,” she said. “Buy you a drink?”

He clutched the paper tighter and looked at her severely. “Not interested,” he answered pulling away from her touch and exiting the bar.

“What’s with him?” The woman asked the bartender.

The bartender just shrugged. “Guess he does have something against beautiful women.”

“Weirdo,” she said with some disgust.

Alex excused herself to answer her cell phone and walked into the other room. “She seems fine, Cassie,” Rose said as Cassidy pulled some vegetables out of the refrigerator and started chopping them.

“Yeah…. Well she’s only been here an hour.”

“Cassie…”

Cassidy laughed. “Dylan, go easy with that truck,” she cautioned as her son crawled across the floor swiftly crashing his toy dump truck into various pieces of furniture and making his own crashing sounds. “I’m just saying…it’s not a question of whether or not she is nice, Mom. I just want some normalcy.”

“Good luck with THAT,” her mother retorted as she moved to help herself to a pepper from the cutting board, soliciting a playful slap from her daughter.

“Yeah… so…what’s the story there, Fallon?” Alex asked her partner through the phone.

“He says he has no idea. Lots of people have issues with him politically but he seems like he is kind of a likable guy. I don’t really see him as having a lot of personal enemies.”

“You figured that out in one day?” Alex said.

“Yeah…actually.”

Alex held the phone away from her and shook her head at it before returning it to her ear. “Everyone has enemies, Fallon. They just don’t always know it.”

“Always the optimist, Toles,” he said.

“Yeah well…comes with the territory.”

“What about you?” He asked.

Alex looked toward the kitchen. “Seems pretty normal here. I don’t know yet. Jury’s out.”

“On what? You suspect the wife?” Alex paused. For some reason Fallon referring to Cassidy as ‘the wife’ bothered her. “Toles…you there?”

“No…I mean yes, I’m here…no I don’t suspect Mrs. O’Brien… but I do wonder who the target is.”

“Maybe there is NO target, Toles.”

Alex gave an uncomfortable chuckle as she headed back toward the kitchen and saw Cassidy working on dinner and reprimanding Dylan again. She watched at a distance as Cassidy laid down her knife, wiped her hands on a towel and calmly but deliberately walked to the boy and removed the truck from his hands. “That is enough, Dylan. Go to your room for a little while and play until you can calm down.” Alex suppressed a laugh as the boy stood and pouted at his mother. Cassidy was unflinching, “Think again, little man…get marching.”

“Toles? What the hell?”

“Sorry,” Alex couldn’t help but snicker as the boy stomped past her in the hallway, briefly looking up at the agent to convey his six year old dissatisfaction with his mother. “There is, Fallon…I feel it.” She started to head into the kitchen when Cassidy noticed her and she cut off the conversation abruptly. “It’s fine… I’ll see you Saturday…talk to you then.” Alex hung up the phone and put it back in her pocket.

“Everything okay?” Cassidy asked.

“Sure…just my partner,” Alex explained. “You need some help?”

Rose smiled from the kitchen table. “Be careful what you offer her,” she cautioned.

“Nice,” Cassidy laughed turning back to Alex. “No. You traveled all day and you are a guest. Perhaps Joan Rivers here can show you where your room is,” she glared playfully at her mother.

“Oh…whatever… don’t listen to her,” Rose laughed. “Though you probably won’t have much choice,” she whispered to the agent just loud enough that her daughter could hear. “You’ll be lucky to get a word in edge wise with that one.”

“I heard that,” Cassidy said returning to her dinner preparation.

“Ears like a bat, that one,” Rose offered quietly as they headed out of the kitchen.

“That too,” Cassidy called playfully. Alex followed Rose up the stairs to the bedroom that had been readied for her arrival.

“Do you really think someone is trying to hurt Chris… or Cassie?” Rose asked as Alex stepped into the spacious room.

Alex gave the woman a comforting smile. “I hope not,” she said.

“That’s not very convincing,” the older woman said.

Alex sighed. “Well, I would rather be careful and hopeful then hopeful and careless.”

“Huh.” Rose released a sigh. “Well, I’m glad you are here.” Alex smiled. “Don’t you have a bag?”

“Oh…yeah…it’s in the car… I’ll get it later. Might rouse less attention when it is dark.”

“I see,” Rose said. “Well, the bathroom is right there if you want to freshen up. I’m sure Cassie will have dinner ready soon.”

Alex smiled, “thank you.” Rose left and closed the door and Alex immediately collapsed back onto the queen size bed. She rubbed her hands over her face and thought about the letters. Something was keeping her unsettled, a gut feeling, one she had experienced before. For some reason, though, being here with this woman, it seemed to be affecting her emotionally. She feared the congressman might not be the target. She pulled herself up, stretched out her back and winced at the twinge of pain running the length of her body. Stretching gently, she walked to the bathroom to splash some cold water on
her face. She looked in the mirror and took a deep breath. “Concentrate, Toles.”

Heading back down the hallway she watched the small boy slide down the stairs on his butt. Alex laughed out loud wondering what Cassidy would have thought of that. She thought about her nephew who was close to the same age. “Typical,” she mused to herself. The smell of taco night seemed to permeate the entire house and it was a welcome sensation for the agent. Her life tended to consist of frozen dinners, macaroni and cheese and take-out. She entered the kitchen to a sight she only saw on her trips home to New England. That was one thing she was happy about with this assignment; if all went well she might have a chance to see her brother and his family.