Trust Me (3 page)

He gave her a slight smile and there seemed to be a
sparkle in those blue eyes as he said, “Yeah I think we can do that, but we have
business to settle first.”

She nodded in agreement, hoping the meeting went
smoothly and they could get back to the more interesting conversation. 
Wasn’t that a professional thought? “All right then.  Let’s get
started.  Why don’t you have a seat?”

Donovan sat in the leather chair opposite her desk,
looking completely at ease.

At the same time, Alaina took her seat behind the desk
and Donovan noticed that despite her small size the large desk did not
overwhelm her. 

His manner went from casual to professional in an
instant.  “As you know the purpose of our meeting is to discuss the
subpoena regarding the release of the Tom Simmons papers.  The Bureau was
hoping for your cooperation in this matter.  After all, we’re dealing with
issues of terrorism.” 

Alaina had been prepared for his request. However she
certainly didn't appreciate his arrogant attitude.  “If there have been
any acts of terrorism, they’ve been on the part of the FBI.  Let me make
my position clear Mr. Prentice, my father was involved in an organization
devoted to protecting individual civil rights regarding privacy.  His goal
as well as that of the OAS was to stop the illegal surveillance techniques
practiced by the FBI on a daily basis.  He didn't want to see America
turned into a police state.  To imply that his activities involved acts of
terrorism is complete slander.”  She was fuming at his accusations and was
wondering how she had ever found this arrogant man attractive. 

“I think you should be aware that the FBI does have
evidence that your father and his cohorts were deeply involved in terrorist
activities directed against federal buildings throughout the United States, and
by attempting to suppress this information you’re becoming their accomplice,”
Donovan insisted, still not sure exactly what her role was in her father's
activities.

Alaina felt her composure slipping as she leaned
forward in her chair, giving him a determined look as she retorted, “Please,
don't lecture me on the law. You know as well as I do that as my father's
lawyer, I can in no way be considered an accomplice under attorney-client
privilege.  However, that point is moot since my father's organization was
a peaceful one devoted to protecting the civil liberties of Americans. 
His papers are currently held in an archival repository with strict guidelines
regarding who is able to access them.  To violate his Will, would also be
a violation of his first amendment right to privacy.  I’ll be fighting the
subpoena.”

“Alaina,” Donovan began.

She noticed that despite the antagonism that had
arisen between them he still insisted on calling her by her first name,
pretending an intimacy existed between them that in reality was not there, or
was it?

“The Bureau will take you to court if you fail to hand
over those papers,” Donovan told her.  “There’s a possibility that they
contain critical information concerning several bombing incidents across the
country.”

“I realize you're representing the interests of the FBI,
but it's my obligation to respect my father's last wishes.  It may sound
like a cliché, but it's a cliché I am going to have to stick by.  Besides,
I believe in every individual's right to privacy and my arguments hold enough
legal validity to convince a judge that my father's papers should remain
closed.  Had he not donated them to the historical society for archival
preservation, the FBI wouldn't have known of their existence.  Your
attempt to violate the donor depository agreement might result in future donors
refusing to leave their papers to anyone, a consequence that would severely
damage our country's historical record.  Does the FBI really want to
jeopardize American history?”  Alaina asked mockingly.  She had
always found sarcasm a good defense when she was fending off a threatening
adversary, and this case was certainly no different from any other.

Donovan was beginning to lose patience, a condition
that was out of character for him.  He had dealt with far more difficult
individuals than the one before him now.  Why was Alaina Simmons
penetrating his wall of control?  Maybe because he wanted her underneath
him and panting while he fucked her instead of facing him across a desk. 
He was going to have to take a tighter rein on his emotions before he slipped
up. 

He looked deeply into Alaina's emerald eyes as he
said, “Don’t you think the American history part is stretching it a bit?”
Shaking his head he continued, “What the FBI wants Alaina, is to capture the
people responsible for those bombings and whether you want to believe it or
not, your father was involved.  Life would be so much simpler if you just
co-operated.  I’ll see you in court and believe me no federal judge is
going to rule in your favor.”  He stood, prepared to leave, but he was halted
by Alaina's angry voice.

  Alaina stood facing him and was forced to tilt
her head to meet his eyes. “Yes, Mr. Prentice I’ll see you in court.  I've
heard a great deal about this overwhelming evidence you have against my father,
yet the FBI has failed to produce any of it.  Could that perhaps be
because it doesn't exist?  Are you bluffing in the hope your threats will
frighten me enough to passively hand over my father's documents?”  She met
his stare without flinching, a difficult task since those deep blue eyes of his
were so compelling she felt she might drown in them if she didn't look
away.  However, she had a great deal of practice holding her ground and
she wasn't going to let this handsome, arrogant FBI creep get the best of her.

“Bluffing?  There's one thing you should learn
now: I never bluff and neither does the Bureau.  You haven't seen any
evidence, because the case is still under investigation.  Releasing it to
you at this point could possibly compromise or hinder our ability to
prosecute.  Don't
worry,
you'll be seeing it
sooner than you think.” 

Under normal circumstances he might have shown her the
evidence, but it would be a while before he could be sure of the extent of her
role in the bombings.  If she was guilty, Donovan thought, she sure put on
a convincing show of innocence.  At one point, he afraid she might pull
out the American flag and a copy of the Constitution.  He just hoped her
arguments weren't convincing enough for a judge.  It was imperative that
the Bureau get a hold of Tom Simmons papers, they just might hold the key to
preventing another bombing.  He looked at her face and delved into her
eyes searching for the truth, wanting desperately to know if she had been an
active participant in the bombings for which her father had been
responsible.  He realized, even as he tried to deny it, that his need to
confirm her innocence or guilt went beyond his duties as an agent.

Alaina felt a shiver go down her spine as he stared at
her.  It was like he was reaching down into the depths of her very
soul.  Did they teach that look at FBI school?  An absurd thought she
knew, but one that refused to leave her. 

In an effort to break the stare, Alaina spoke, “Well,
I guess there isn't any point in discussing this issue further, Mr. Prentice. 
I’d hoped our discussion could have been a bit more fruitful, but it seems the
FBI is going to be relentless on this issue.  It's too bad the tax payers
aren't aware of how much money has been wasted on this ridiculous
investigation.”

“The investigation isn’t absurd and the bombing
activities of the OAS are all too real.  They’ll be caught and anyone
involved will be prosecuted,” Donovan warned.

Alaina got the distinct feeling he was warning her as
well as the organization. “I’m curious as to why I’m dealing with the FBI,
isn’t this a matter for Homeland Security?”

“I’m working with FBI Counter Terrorism as part of a
joint task force with Homeland Security.  The direct attack on FBI
facilities warranted the involvement of both agencies.”

“I see. Look, I want those terrorists caught as much
as you do Mr. Prentice, but you're after the wrong people and I can't stand by
and let the very thing my father fought for his whole life, his constitutional
right to privacy, be destroyed by an FBI investigation.  The events of
9/11 were tragic, but we can’t sacrifice a fundamental right of our
constitution.” As she spoke she became more curious about the evidence Donovan
claimed to possess.  Did the OAS have any connection to the
bombings?  She was certain her father hadn’t, but was it possible that
some of the organization's members were involved?  She realized the
conviction with which Donovan Prentice spoke was having a deep effect on what
had been, up until this moment, her unshakable belief in the OAS and the legitimacy
of its activities.  “I might be able to help if I could see the evidence
you claim to have collected against the OAS?” 

Suddenly she needed to be convinced that there was no
evidence, that the FBI was bluffing and the subpoena of her father's papers was
just a fishing expedition as she had originally thought.

Donovan wondered what her request meant.  Was she
trying to discover what evidence they had against her father or what evidence
they had against her?  Even if she was innocent, he found it hard to
believe that she was ignorant of her father's real activities.  She was
too damned smart for that.  Regardless of her motivation, he would once
again refuse her request to see the evidence until it was determined if she
could be trusted.  He noticed that although she was quite agitated by
their discussion, she was not showing any physical signs of distress.  In
fact she looked cool, calm and collected and as sexy as she had this morning
when he had watched her run out of her house.  Donovan admonished himself
inwardly. If he was going to be successful at this investigation, he was going
to have to stop ogling his primary suspect.  He was beginning to think
that might pose a difficult, if not an impossible task.  Pulling himself
out of his thoughts, he responded to Alaina's question, “I'm sorry, my answer
is going to have to remain the same.  The evidence can’t be disclosed at
this time.”

 “As we've both observed, this conversation is
going nowhere.  I guess we'll have to let the judge decide.  Can you
find your way out?”  She stood as she said this indicating her impatience
for him to leave.

Donovan remained
seated,
ignoring her indication she wanted him to leave. “I'm sure that won't be a
problem.  Oh, and Alaina, I'll look forward to doing battle with you in
court.  I think it's going to be quite stimulating.  I'll make sure
I'm well prepared for your arguments.”  Donovan graced her with the
devastating smile she had first witnessed in the drugstore.  Alaina was
flustered both by the unexpected compliment of her litigation skills and his
smile.  It was so strange.  A minute before they had been involved in
a heated discussion.  Now all the tension of the argument appeared to have
evaporated, being replaced with what was becoming a familiar sexual tension between
them.  Images of hot sweaty bodies tangled in sheets flashed through her
mind. 

“Goodbye Mr. Prentice, I'll see you next week,” she
hesitated before saying, “I guess this means exploring any non-professional
relationship is off the table.”

Donovan cocked his head to one side giving her a half
smile. “No, this just means it’s going to take us longer to get there.”

She shook her head denying the possibility. 
“Hmmm, I don’t think that’s going to work now, but it’s been a unique meeting.”

Donovan's smile became just a bit wicked as he said,
“Which meeting are you referring to? 
The one at the
drugstore or the one here?”
He knew he was crossing a line.  He
shouldn't but somehow he just wasn't able to stop himself.  His
flirtation, in the eyes of the Bureau, was unacceptable and he knew it. 
What was it about Alaina Simmons that made him ignore his usually rigid rules
of conduct?  In his line of work failure to follow the rules could be
dangerous.

Alaina wanted to scream in frustration.  Donovan
Prentice never let up.  It appeared to be his goal to throw her off
balance.  He was using this awareness between them to his advantage and
she seemed powerless to stop it. 

She tried to appear as if his teasing hadn't affected
her, but she wasn't sure if she was successful.
“Both, Mr.
Prentice.”

“I'll keep that in mind.  Until we meet again,”
he said as rose from his chair and exited her office. 

She watched those broad shoulders leave, feeling a
twinge of remorse when she was once again alone.  He acted as if they were
meeting for an illicit rendezvous instead of a court appearance.  She had
certainly never experienced such a range of emotions at one time.

The man was good at turning on and off the charm,
Alaina thought.  For that reason alone he couldn't be trusted.  In
Alaina's experience, people who were that charismatic tended to be a bit too
shallow for her taste. They were all charm and consisted of little else. 
She wondered if this line of thinking was going to successfully convince her
she disliked Donovan Prentice.  Try as she might, she didn't seem to be
able to maintain her anger for very long.  After all, when he had first
thrown those accusations about her father and the OAS at her she had been
furious, but in a matter of minutes he had convinced her that there was a
definite possibility that her father's organization might be involved
somehow.  Who was this man that he could make her question her judgments
even without producing any evidence?  He was right about one thing; it
certainly was going to be an interesting court battle.