Commitment (32 page)

“I’m in,” Tate agreed.

“Krause?” Alex called to her partner. “If we commit to this….”

“John was like my brother, Alex. You know that. Dylan…. this is…It’s family, Alex,” Krause choked slightly on the words. “There is nothing else left to commit to.”

Alex offered him a cockeyed grin. Krause was emphatic. “All right. We play their game. Let them think they are still controlling the board. Nothing to Jane or Matt for now,” Alex ordered. “Pip, you know Callier best. Your call if and when we bring him in,” Alex said. “For now, it’s us and Fallon. Agreed?” The consensus was clear. “Tate you bring Fallon up to speed and watch yourself. They won’t hesitate…”

Tate smiled and grasped Alex’s shoulder. “I can take care of myself, Agent Toles,” he said as he moved to open the van’s door.

“Tate?” Alex stopped him. “One last thing…..Why did you tell Fallon that Krause and I were never supposed to meet?”

Tate jumped slightly at the question. He looked at Jonathan Krause and quickly returned his gaze to Alex. “Agent Toles, I am not the person to answer that question. I suspect you already have some ideas.”

“Trust is,” she began.

“Trust is both earned and broken,” Tate said as he leaned in her ear. “It is not only you I have made commitments to,” he said. “Be careful.”

“Get your hands off of me!” Christopher O’Brien demanded. “What the hell is this?”

Brian Fallon entered the small interrogation room and directed the detective to leave with a brief glance. He looked at the congressman sitting handcuffed in a chair and shook his head, a smile creasing the edges of his lips. “Took a little longer than I had hoped,” Fallon said as he flopped into a chair in the corner.

“What the hell are you doing here?” O’Brien asked.

Fallon stretched his legs out in front of him and laced his fingers behind his head as if he were lazing about his home. “Just getting comfortable,” he mocked the congressman.

“I’ll be out of here before you can even fire off a question,” O’Brien asserted.

Fallon shrugged. “You might be safer in here,” he responded. The congressman shot him a look of disdain. “Not really a great idea to syphon funds from the people you work for. Putting those funds in an account in your girlfriend’s name… well, if it had worked, maybe a stroke of brilliance,” he said. “But then, you have never been that lucky; have you?” Fallon watched as O’Brien grimaced. “I hope Claire knows what she’s gotten herself into,” Fallon chuckled. The unexpected comment prompted O’Brien to flinch. “Oh? Was that supposed to be a secret? You aren’t so great at keeping those either,”
Fallon shook his head as if he were disappointed. “So? This is a pattern, then. The women in your life end up the victim of some maniac. That’s coincidence?” Fallon asked. “So, you didn’t murder Cheryl? Just like you didn’t know Carl Fisher? You almost got Cassidy killed.”

“I’m not saying anything to you, Agent Fallon. You are wasting my time and your breath. I’m not a murderer,” O’Brien said.

Fallon swiftly pulled his chair in front of the congressman. He placed his forehead squarely against O’Brien’s and whispered hoarsely. “Just an attempted murderer, then?” O’Brien did not answer. Fallon leaned over, his breath filling the congressman’s ear. “You tried to kill Alex. Women should stay away from you…..Tough man hits a lady.” Fallon pulled the chair back and stood. “So? Why did Cheryl leave you, Mr. O’Brien?” No response. “Where is Claire these days? Not here to rescue you, huh?” Fallon chuckled.

“I want my lawyer.”

“I’m sure. We all want something,” Fallon shrugged.

O’Brien’s frustration was growing by the second. “I have the right to my attorney.”

Fallon pursed his lips in consideration. He tipped his head and winked at the man in the chair. “Well, I will have him brought right in, Congressman O’Brien,” Fallon said sweetly. O’Brien narrowed his gaze at the unexpected agreement to his demand. “Talk with your attorney all you like. I can assure you, Congressman; you are not getting out of this. In addition to conspiracy to commit wire fraud and making false statements, you have door number three: felony murder, which, by the way, well…you are a lawyer…Stanford, right? So you know you can be tried by both the State of Virginia and in Federal Court,” Fallon gleamed as he listed off the charges. “You look confused? Let’s just say the money trail is enough to make a case for a threat to national security; at least to my superiors.
And, since the motive for murder appears to be that Cheryl discovered your little game…well, you understand.”

“They already told me the charges,” O’Brien answered. “Just get my attorney.”

“Certainly, Congressman,” Fallon agreed. Before leaving he bent over into the congressman’s ear again. “Personally, I hope he does get you out.” O’Brien looked up at the FBI agent, baffled. Fallon chuckled as he leaned back into O’Brien. “They just wanted you removed,” Fallon said. “Out there? They’ll want you dead. Frankly, I hope you get your wish you son of a bitch.”

O’Brien watched Brian Fallon calmly leave the room. He closed his eyes and struggled to swallow the dryness in his throat. The bitterness in Fallon’s statement did not change its truth. He wondered as he waited, if anyone would come to his rescue or if he had finally become a sheep awaiting its slaughter. He shook off his questions. There was always a bargaining chip. He could manufacture one. The only question in his mind now was who he could convince to negotiate with him.

Cassidy quietly made her way toward the bathroom, observing Alex as she massaged her temple with one hand while leaning heavily on the sink with the other. She gently caressed Alex’s back and spoke softly. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

Alex sighed and turned to face her wife. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Cassidy fell into Alex’s embrace. “I know it’s not right. It’s terrible. I know it…but I hope Chris rots in there,” Cassidy said.

“It’s not terrible,” Alex said. “When I got your message…. Cassidy, if O’Brien had been anywhere near me I swear I could have killed him myself.”

Cassidy pulled back at the severity in Alex’s voice. “You wouldn’t do that,” she said.

“No. I wouldn’t because of you and Dylan, which ironically is the same reason I could do it and feel no remorse.”

“I don’t believe that,” Cassidy said. “You would never. It’s not who you are. I do understand how that feels. I won’t shed any tears watching this, Alex. I don’t have any left for him. Not after seeing Dylan…”

“I know. There is one bright side,” Alex offered.

“I’m all ears,” Cassidy forced a smile.

“Custody won’t be an issue. He’s going down, Cass. One way or another he will be out of the picture. That’s a guarantee.”

Cassidy licked her lips and sighed in contemplation. The implication of Alex’s words was not lost on her. “Alex, what aren’t you telling me?” Alex turned on the shower and the fan in the bathroom, signaling Cassidy that what she was about to say required some safeguards. Cassidy felt a chill travel swiftly up her spine.

“Cass, he’s into something. I knew that when we were dealing with Fisher, but it’s deeper than I thought and now he’s marked. I just couldn’t piece together who he was working with until…I still can hardly believe…”

“Alex,” Cassidy took hold of her wife’s hand. “Just tell me, please.”

Alex closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. The wound that was Michael Taylor’s betrayal was raw. “It was Taylor, Cass. It was him all along; at least he pulled most of the strings. I said O’Brien was a puppet? Claire? I guess you can count me in that show. Michael Taylor is a master puppeteer.”

Cassidy searched Alex’s eyes, attempting to convey her understanding and love. “Oh, Alex; are you sure?” Alex nodded sadly. “I don’t understand,” Cassidy sighed helplessly.

“It’s complicated and it’s not. At the end of the day, I expect we’ll find money is at the root. Isn’t is always?” Alex chuckled in disgust. “Taylor arranged O’Brien’s accident, Cass. He and Brady. He’s probably been moving money for a long time. I can’t believe Taylor…I mean, how could he? God…Cass?” Alex strained to make the words come.

Cassidy tightened her grip on Alex’s hand in encouragement. “Tell me.”

“He killed John, Cass. The assassination, it was Taylor…. he,” Alex took a deep breath. “That book shop on Mutanabbi Street….I thought John was responsible that day. When he told me it was his fault, he meant Taylor…he should have been watching Taylor,” Alex finished and let her head fall onto Cassidy’s shoulder.

Cassidy held Alex close, tenderly rubbing circles on her back. Their relationship had been plagued for many months by nightmares. Alex struggled with memories of a horrific IED attack when she was in Baghdad. She would awaken in a panic, reliving the day. Alex had been working with the locals and befriended a bookshop owner and his daughter. She told Cassidy she never suspected anything about the man who owned the bookshop. It was her job to assess threat risks; to reduce them. She walked headlong into a trap with five other officers, losing three of her best friends in the process and suffering severe injuries herself. Both her Colonel, John Merrow, and her Captain, Michael Taylor, were also injured. It had formed a bond between the three. Alex spent years shouldering the blame for the attack. She should have seen the warning signs. Alex had come to believe in recent months that John Merrow had knowledge of the attack. Now, it appeared it was her Captain. Either way it was an unthinkable betrayal.

Cassidy pulled back and stroked Alex’s cheek. “I’m sorry, love. Let me clean up in here. Go lie down. I’ll be right there,” she directed Alex. Cassidy turned off the water and the fan, shut off the light and made her way to the bed. “Come here,” she said, pulling Alex to her.

“I’m tired, Cass,” Alex barely whispered.

Cassidy ran her hands through Alex’s hair to calm her. “I know.”

“Cass?”

“Yeah?”

Alex’s voice trembled slightly as she began to speak, “I know I said it solved the immediate problem with Dylan…”

“But…you want to declare Jonathan as his father,” Cassidy guessed.

“I know. It doesn’t make sense. How can I even trust Krause? Look at what…”

Cassidy stopped Alex’s rambling with a kiss. “You do trust him,” Cassidy said.

“Yes,” Alex answered. “But I have no reason to.”

“I think you do,” Cassidy said flatly. “Alex, what does your heart tell you?”

“Cassidy, this is no business for emotions.”

“I disagree. Then why do you do it?” Cassidy asked.

“What do you mean?” Alex was perplexed. “It’s my job.”

“No. You could do anything. It’s not just the challenge, Alex. I know you love that. You find a challenge in everything,” Cassidy observed. “You moved heaven and earth to get to me when Carl Fisher was alive. Why?”

“I love you,” Alex’s reply came swiftly.

“Mm-hm. I know. You care. Alex, you care what happens to people. You might not like to admit that, but you do.”

“Maybe. That doesn’t mean I can afford to trust them,” Alex said.

“How do you know you can trust me?” Cassidy asked.

“Cass, I trust you with my life.”

“I know. I trust you with my life. That’s not what I asked you. What made you believe you could trust me with your life?” Cassidy asked again.

“I don’t know. I felt it. I feel it. I just know,” Alex said honestly.

Cassidy smiled and kissed Alex’s head. “But, I kept something from you. I didn’t tell you that John was Dylan’s father right away.”

“Yes, but you didn’t do that to deceive me. That was to protect Dylan,” Alex said.

“Partly…and to protect me. I was afraid of losing you,” Cassidy admitted.

“Not the same,” Alex assured her wife.

“Maybe not. The point is, no one will ever be perfect. You only hurt yourself if you keep score. You know that. Pip cares for you,” Cassidy said. “I feel it. So do you. I understand why you are afraid to trust. I honestly do. I felt that way after Chris. So many lies. So many affairs. The truth is, Alex, I felt that way after my father died too.”

“You were just a kid,” Alex reminded her wife.

“That’s true. I still felt deceived; lied to,” Cassidy explained. Alex propped herself up and listened intently as Cassidy continued. “I trusted him to be there for me. He said he would be. One day he wasn’t. When my mother told me the truth; that he was drunk…even after all those years; I felt so betrayed. Strangely not as much by her. She wanted to protect me. My father? The man I worshiped all those years? He left. He cared more about that bottle than he did about either me or Mom.”