The Seven Year Itch (17 page)

Chapter 25

Monday
Morning…

N
ewton’s cradle kinetic
balls clicked in a soothing rhythm as Director Freeman waited in his office for
Cartwright to arrive with an update on the status of the remaining personnel
polygraphs and Jack’s arrest. Freeman’s stomach twisted and turned when he
received the news, another fucking FBI agent arrested for committing espionage,
and he still hadn’t reconciled himself with Jack’s guilt as so many others had,
despite the evidence. His instinct told him to keep looking, and his instincts
had never steered him wrong before. Jack was an asshole but Freeman never
figured him for a spy. Hell, he wouldn’t have pegged Hanssen either truth be
told. CIA case officers were trained to lie and break the laws in foreign
countries of interest. They always tread a thin murky line between mission and
miscreant. He’d rarely been surprised when the CIA case officers turned,
especially those from Russia House. But for FBI agents, the lines were clear.
They were trained to uphold laws not break them.

He’d already been called to the Hill to testify in front of
the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. They wanted answers, answers
Freeman couldn’t provide because Sabinski refused to cooperate. Maybe
Cartwright had made some headway.

“Has Jack started talking yet? I’d hoped he’d open up after a
few days in solitary confinement.”

“Unfortunately, not,” Cartwright said, intense and focused.
He crossed his legs and laid a notebook across his lap. “The only thing he’s
told us is that he’s innocent and he wanted to speak to Agent McCall—and Agent
McCall alone. She met with him a couple of days ago but she hasn’t briefed me
on her discussion yet, which suggests to me she probably didn’t find out any
more information than we already knew.”

“Hmmm, I see. The minute we’re done here, I want you to get
her in your office. Everyone’s riding my ass about this case, asking questions
I can’t answer. Don’t drop the ball on this, Jim. I can’t stall for much
longer.”

Cartwright nodded yes and made a notation on his notepad.

“Anyone else had poly issues?” Freeman asked.

“No, sir. So far, everyone else has passed. Agent Michaels
and Sunnie Richardson, our analyst, took theirs yesterday. Neither one had any
issues to my knowledge, but I’ll double check to make certain.”

“Who’s left?”

“Three agents—Johnson, McCall, and Donato. Johnson’s
scheduled for Thursday. Donato and McCall for Friday morning. The polygrapher
had scheduling issues due to this recent hiring surge and couldn’t fit them
earlier.”

Freeman noted the dates on his calendar and then spoke
without looking up. “What about yours?”

“Sir?” His head flinched back, he reached for the base of his
neck.

“Jim, you’re on the bigot list. I realize the test is a pain
in the ass inconvenience—and a mere formality, but I’m not ready to put all my
eggs in the Jack basket yet. I want to keep searching so you’ll just have to
take this one on the chin for the team. Are we understood?”

“Yes, sir. Understood,” Cartwright said flatly and then stood
to leave. “I’ll schedule mine in the morning. They should be able to get me in
next week.”

“Don’t bother. I’ve already got you on the schedule for 10
a.m. tomorrow,” Freeman said. “You call me immediately after you speak with
Agent McCall. And remember the door is open if you have any issues you need to
discuss. Now if that’s all…”

Cartwright nodded in agreement and hurried nervously out of
the office.

•
 
•
 
•

In a moment less than an instant, Cartwright’s
face turned pale. His chest rose and fell dramatically. Fleeing down the main
corridor, his expression grew panic stricken.

Cartwright’s secretary, Sue Slater, was on her way to the
cafeteria to grab some breakfast when she noticed his urgency and stopped him
mid-stride. “Are you okay, Mr. Cartwright?”

He tried to force the words and respond but nothing came. He
charged ahead, his breath labored and his forehead dripping with perspiration.
He flung opened the door to a stairwell. It led to the main entrance. Soon the
hurried clack of his shoe heels against the steps echoed louder and louder,
down ten flights of stairs, until he reached the exit.

Air.

He needed air.

J.J. had dragged herself out of bed and schlepped into the
office, her stress level off the charts. The
ICE
Phantom
skulked around headquarters like a sly serpent stalking its next
prey. Her worse nightmare had been realized—Golikov had detained
Karat
. But she’d recruited the most
important Russian source to cooperate with the Bureau since...well...since her
last source.

Each limb attached to her body felt as if it weighed a
hundred pounds. Every movement an endless slog. The unyielding turmoil had
taken a physical toll, even though her mind felt sharp and geared for action.
She’d half considered setting up an intravenous Starbuck’s drip in the office
so she could survive the rest of the day. Instead she stopped at the
second-rate coffee shop across the street to grab coffee before heading into
the office.

When J.J. finally reached the Hoover building Pennsylvania
Avenue entrance, Cartwright swung the door open. It nearly smacked her in the
face. He stepped outside and sucked in a breath of cool exhaust-filled fall
morning air before he even noticed J.J. Although he tried to collect himself,
he appeared disturbed, flustered.

“Mr. Cartwright. You look ill. Is everything all right?”

“I’m fine. It’s the air in that place. Sometimes you have to
get out,” Cartwright replied, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

J.J., unconvinced, felt a tingle on the back of her neck. She
reached her free hand back to soothe it. He was lying...but about what she had
no idea. He didn’t feel fine. He didn’t look fine. She only questioned why.
Maybe he was again caving under the pressure. After all, she’d personally
witnessed him meltdown before.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said. “I was just telling
Director Freeman that I planned to call and find out how your meeting with Jack
went. We can’t thank you enough for attempting to speak with him.”

“No problem.” She took a deep breath to brace herself in case
he told a lie that brought on a more intense reaction. “Glad I could be of
service.”

“So what did he have to say? Probably not much right?”
Cartwright asked, his voice reflecting more hope than certainty.

“No, sir. As a matter of fact, he had plenty to say,” she
said, watching for any change in his expression. “He claims he’s been framed
and that someone in the Bureau is responsible.”

He tilted his head to the side. For a moment he appeared
shaken but he recovered quickly. “Yeah. The problem is no one could fail the
polygraph exam twice on Jack’s behalf, except Jack. He was the only one hooked
up to the box. He must take you for a fool to believe you’d fall for that.”

“Yeah, I’m always amazed at what people take me for.” Careful
to keep her expression neutral, she said, “If you want to hear something
crazier, he seems to think he can identify the person responsible. What do you
think about that?”

“Did he name him?”

“
Him?
No,” she
said, finding it curious Cartwright specified a male. Maybe the suggestion was
just a function of the English language. Perhaps there was more to it. “But if
his allegations are true, we’ll get him eventually. What’s done in the dark
will always find its way to the light.”

“I agree. I agree. At least we know where his head’s at,
right?”
 
Cartwright shifted his gaze to
the sea of brake lights flashing in the rush hour traffic. He looked toward the
ground, deflated. “Uhhh, did he have anything else to add?”

“Yeah. Just one other thing. He questioned the speed at which
the investigation was conducted before he got arrested. But I’m sure you
believed he’d be a flight risk, especially with all the cash.”

“Of course. That’s exactly what I thought. And I acted within
the bounds of the law.”

An itch spiked through the center of her spine.

“Damnit!” she yelled.

Her knees buckled and she grabbed Cartwright’s arm to keep
her balance.

“You okay?” He placed his hand against her back to ensure she
was steady.

The sensation passed a moment later. She composed herself and
continued. “I’m okay...just fine. The last few days have been exhausting. I
think I probably should’ve grabbed some breakfast with my coffee—woozy.”

He nodded. “Well, if that’s all you have for me, I really
must be going now. I’ll be sure to pass the information on to Director
Freeman.”

He started to walk away but stopped. He spun around to face
J.J., his expression sullen.

“You know, as FBI Agents, the weight of our country’s
security rests on our shoulders. Unfortunately, not all of us bear the full
weight of that responsibility gracefully.”

“Yes,” she said, her mind focused on
ICE Phantom
. “And apparently some of us can’t bear it at
all.”
  

Both turned to walk their separate ways. A few steps into his
journey Cartwright called out, “J.J.! Wait minute.” He moved closer. His eyes
were glossy, dampened with the remnants of almost stifled tears. “Meet me in my
office first thing tomorrow morning. I have some important information you
need.”

“About what?”

“You ever play chess, Agent McCall?”

She tilted her head to the side. “Sure, a few times in
college. Why do you ask?”

“Well sometimes when playing chess, one has to sacrifice the
pawn to get the king.”

J.J. paused for thought. “So, uhhh, am I supposed to be the
king or pawn in the scenario?”

“Neither. Right now, you’re the most important piece on the board—the
queen. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Chapter 26
 

D
istracted by Cartwright’s
elusiveness, J.J. literally ran into Tony at the office door. They exchanged
morning greetings, and turned to go to their cubicles when who should appear
but Chris and Lana. If the two had some romantic bond that made Chris
maniacally insane at the thought of Lana’s extracurricular activities with
Jack, she couldn’t discern. Lately, Chris appeared a little colder,
emotionless. Maybe he had finally come to his senses. Maybe the voodoo that she
do so well didn’t woo him into stupidity any longer.

“Hey. You two have been quiet lately,” Chris said, stopping
them as he stepped away from Lana’s cubicle. “Either you’re keeping a low
profile to stay out of trouble or you’re up to no good. Which is it?”

“Neither,” Tony responded, agitated. Chris was probing for
information. And Tony could smell the bullshit seeping from his greeting.
“We’ve been investigating. You know, the work the government pays us to do on
behalf of the American people. The work you’d be engaged in if you weren’t so
busy playing footsie.”

Both of J.J.’s eyebrows popped up.

Chris’s expression hardened, his voice rose. “You’re one to
talk.” He motioned his head toward J.J.

“We could take this outside if you want to discuss it
further,” Tony said. He went express Jersey on Chris, with his chest puffed and
back rigid. Chris had crossed the line. And J.J. was caught in the middle of
Testosterone City.

“All right, boys. All right. That’ll be quite enough, thank
you,” J.J. said. “Knock it off or I’ll send both of you to the principal’s
office.”

Why Chris suggested Tony and J.J. were intimately involved
she didn’t know. Didn’t really bother J.J. but Tony was more than mildly
perturbed. As she watched them argue back and forth with Tony, J.J. noticed
Chris had something of a slick nature, his every gesture, every word reeked of
used car salesman. If indeed he were
ICE
Phantom
, he’d still need motivation and nothing logical came to mind.
He’d come from a fairly well-to-do family, graduated from Stanford, never
smoked or drank—no drugs. Major health nut. A bit narcissistic but not overly
so, not for a third-generation legacy FBI agent. J.J. was a second generation
legacy, so she couldn’t hold that against him. Besides, a certain level of
cockiness was expected and, to some extent, required to be effective at this
job.

His only weakness (as far as she could tell) was his
addiction to blond, blue-eyed, big busted women. But most men on the planet
could confess that sin. He had a reputation for wining them and dining them all
the way to his bed. He spread his affections as far and as wide as their slim,
toned legs. Then he dropped them cold. His curiosity was only piqued by the
aloof, the uninterested. Lana didn’t fit the bill on any count. The rumor mill
suggested she’d been had by one and all—from Gs to G-men anyone with
credentials would do. For Chris, using her body and winning her heart were
separate challenges, the latter intrigued him beyond reason. Lana’s tryst with
Jack could drive him to jealousy and send him over sanity’s edge.

Time and time again the love of a woman had proved more than
sufficient motivation to spy for the Russians, especially if Chris believed
purchasing her affection would net him the ultimate prize.

The moment, ripe with opportunity, proffered J.J. the chance
to probe Chris, to elicit information and confirm her suspicions.

“Yeah, everything’s been nuts around here since Jack’s
arrest. Can’t believe he asked to meet with
me
...of
all people.”

“Yeah. Strange indeed.”

“I’m rather surprised he hasn’t asked to Lana to visit yet. They
seemed so close,” she said.
 
“Why do you
suppose that is?”

Chris shrugged, played nonchalant. “I don’t know. I’ve
actually been wondering the same thing,” Chris responded. No reaction? He was
telling the truth. Perhaps he knew less about the details of Jack’s and Lana’s
relationship than she suspected.

“Interesting,” she said. “He made some crazy accusations.
Suggested a mole in the FBI might be attempting to frame him.”

“Is that right? Did he offer any names?” Chris asked,
swallowing hard. His interest was obviously piqued.

“Yeah...as a matter of fact he did,” she responded,
maintaining her poker face. “
Yours
.”

Chris ran his hands through his hair. “Me?”

She paused and watched as his breathing became labored. She’d
learned all she needed to know.

“No...I’m just kidding,” she chuckled. Her laugh fake,
insincere. “Your secret’s still safe…for now.”

He held his hand against his chest. “Man, you had me going
for a second. Thought I was going to have to empty out my Swiss bank accounts
and move to Russia,” he joked in return.

Her eyebrow rose.
No
responses to
his attempt at humor at all, not even the slightest hint of an
itch.

“Careful what you say to me, Chris,” J.J. deadpanned. “I’m an
FBI agent.”

A jovial expression seized her face. He had no idea how dead
serious she really was.

J.J turned to glance at the wall clock and noticed Lana. She
lingered like month-old fish odor at a nearby cubicle. When J.J. turned as if
planning to leave, Lana gave up the pretense of being busy and injected herself
into the discussion. Just as J.J figured she would.

“So, what did he have to say for himself?” Lana chimed in.

“Just wanted to apologize for the, uhhh, contentious
relationship he and I have had over the years. Trying to atone for his past
sins, I guess,” J.J. lied. “Must be trying to get in good with The Man Upstairs
before he fries.”

Chris nodded. “I suspect he’d have to offer more apologies
than he could possibly make in
this
lifetime to stay out of hell,” he said.

A slow smile crept upon J.J.’s lips. “Yes, there’s a special
place in hell for traitors...
like him.
”
She hoped they both would take the comment to heart. She shifted her glare to
Lana. “I like to think the fire burns a little hotter for those who betray
their country.”

Lana returned J.J.’s glare, unyielding, defiant. “I’m a
patriot. I
would never
betray my
country.”

J.J. dismissed Lana’s remark as fake and disingenuous as her
breasts and braced herself for the physiological fall-out. But none came.

Perhaps Lana had some semblance of honor, even if she was
inept and had only succeeded in stealing other agents’ cases.

Chris flashed a sheepish expression. “So...do you think he
did it?”

“I have no doubt he’s guilty,” J.J. lied. “And none of his
half-assed apologies would ever alter my opinion of him.”

If Chris was indeed
ICE
Phantom
, all evidence and suspicion must still point to Jack. Then Chris
would continue to operate business as usual, and catching him in the act would
only be a matter of time.

An uncomfortable silence hovered between them. J.J. changed
the subject.

“So did you guys take your polys yet?”

Lana nodded. “Yes, I passed with flying colors. I’m back in
the vault.”

“Motherflubber!” she yelled as her knees buckled.

Her skin crawled at the sound of Lana’s voice, but she
wouldn’t be standing in the office if she hadn’t actually passed. Why did her
remark about passing with flying colors ring untrue?
 
Her mind plunged into another round of
uncertainty.
 
The situation served as a
prime example of the reason J.J.’s “gift” was often more curse than blessing.
To know someone had been untruthful was far less useful than knowing the reason
why.

Lana turned to J.J. and sympathetically patted her shoulder.
“Your…
issue
?”

J.J. nodded and tapped her forehead with the back of her
hand.

“Well, you’ll have time to get some rest. In Jack’s absence,
Mr. Cartwright instructed me to take over all of your cases until you pass your
polygraph. So, I’ll need access to your cabinet safe,” she said, chomping at the
bit to sink her claws into J.J.’s cases.

J.J. struggled to stifle the flippant bitch inside crying to
get out. “Fine,” J.J. snapped. “Have at them.”

Plotnikov’s real case file still rested safely in vault,
housed inside a folder belonging to a deceased source. And Plotnikov was in
Moscow. There’d be no reason for the mole or Lana to pursue more information
about him. She looked to the ceiling and thanked God Dmitriyev’s information
rested safely with her because she and Tony had been locked out of the vault
before filing his case. Her two most important sources were safe, at least from
Lana’s ineptness. And if Chris was indeed the mole, keeping their identities
from him would no doubt mean the difference between life and death. He must
never know about them. And he never would.

J.J. eyed Chris and he returned her glance. “So when’s your
poly, Chris?” she asked.

“I got an email this morning. You, Tony, and I are the last
three. I get the pleasure of the first appointment Thursday morning. Both of
you are scheduled for Friday. Although when I arrived this morning, I heard
Freeman ordered Cartwright to take one and he’s not at all happy about it.”

“This morning?” J.J. asked, remembering her run-in with
Cartwright outside the front entrance. He seemed off-balance, even panicked.
She might’ve caught him right after Freeman broke the news.

She and Tony exchanged glances. “Yeah. Apparently he thought
he was exempt, but Freeman thought otherwise. One thing you can say about
Freeman is he’s fair.”

Or covering his ass. If J.J. were the director, she wouldn’t
want to be called to the Hill to explain how senior executives
don’t usually
spy so Cartwright wasn’t
expected to take the examination. Freeman hadn’t been fair, he’d been smart.

“Well, Tony and I have some issues we’d like to discuss in
private, so we’re gonna grab an empty office. Who’s the acting supervisor?”

“Me,” Lana said. “But you’re free to use Jack’s office if you
want. I’m not sitting in there...at least not yet.”

Tony mocked her, turning his head and silently mouthing the
words, “At least not yet.”

J.J. shrugged half-heartedly then checked her jacket for
lint, hoping Lana would evaporate into another dimension.

“Hey, J.J. Before you guys meet can I speak with you for
second?” Lana lowered her voice. “Alone?”

“Sure,” J.J. answered, humoring her for humor’s sake. “Let’s
step into the hall,” J.J. said. Lana followed her out the office door.

Lana hesitated for a few seconds. She stammered and stuttered
before collecting herself. “Listen, I know you don’t think much of me,” Lana
said. She paused as if waiting for J.J. to disagree.

 
J.J. pursed her lips
and nodded. “Go on.”

“Even though Jack would never admit it, I think we all know
the
ICE Phantom
exists,” Lana
said. “And whatever you may think of me or how I do my job, I have as much
interest in finding the asshole as anyone. So, just hear me out.”

How could J.J. resist hearing more with a start like that?
“Agreed. Continue.”

“The night before Jack was arrested, I expressed some...some
concerns
I had about Chris’s behavior.
With his attitude today, I’m even more concerned.”

“Concerned about what?” J.J. waited for any reaction.

“That he might’ve played a part in what happened to Jack.”

Hmmm...no reaction
,
J.J. thought to herself. However, her only surprise was in the apparent ease in
which Lana thrust her partner, and presumably her lover, squarely under the
bus.

“He’s been acting strange, more obsessive than usual.
Buying
 
expensive jewelry that I’m not sure
he can afford. He has volatile mood swings. And I believe I saw him with a
flash drive; they’re forbidden in the SCIFed area. I just think you should be
aware.”

“Me? I’m just a recruiter. You should report it to security
so they can make the proper inquiries,” J.J. responded, choking out the words.
Given their history, it pained J.J. to help. But for all J.J. knew, Lana’s
concern was genuine. “Now I need to get back inside so I can meet with Tony.”

“Sure, sure,” Lana said. “See ya later.”

Lana flashed a thinly veiled smirk as she walked away. J.J.
wondered for a brief moment if strangling Lana with her own brunette tresses
would still constitute murder.

•
 
•
 
•

Moments later in Jack’s office, Tony kicked
his feet up on the desk, clasped his hands behind his head like a boss. “How do
I look?” He shooed J.J. with his hand. “I take my coffee black, please.”

“Well if you wanted something hot and black all you had to do
was say so—here I am!”

He shook his head and revealed his sexy grin. He had quite a
few smiles—his joking smile. His cocky smile. His cat that caught the canary
smile. But the sexy smile was J.J.’s favorite.

“
Whatever
,” J.J.
continued. “While I must say the look of success agrees with you, you do realize
Jack probably farts in that chair.”

Tony vaulted up from the seat as if someone had lit a fire
under his ass. He pushed the chair aside, and scanned the office for another
one. “Leave it to you to steal my little bit of thunder.”

“Ass thunder is what I saved you from,” she said chuckling
before her mood soured. “While I appreciate the diversion, we’ve got to figure
out a way to find this mole and save our source. I’m gonna hit the ladies’ and
I’ll be right back.”

Chris. Mr. Cartwright. J.J. churned over the information overload falling
into her lap. She had reason to suspect both, but insufficient evidence to
implicate either. She paced down the long corridor replaying Lana’s and her
conversation in her mind. Why was she so quick to hurl Chris under the bus with
hardly a second thought? If J.J. suspected Tony had been involved in illegal
activity she would’ve investigated him herself and made damn sure she had a leg
to stand on before uttering her suspicion to a single soul. J.J. suspected Lana
probably knew more than she admitted. About what? That was the fifty million
dollar question.