Intersection (43 page)

r. President…”

“Yes, Congressman. What is it I can do for you?”

“I heard from Krause this morning,” the congressman began.

“I thought you might,” John Merrow answered.

“Is it true? Carl Fisher… is he dead?” The congressman asked with skepticism in his voice.

There was a measurable pause in the conversation. The president cleared his throat softly and gave his answer. “That is what I have been given to understand; yes.”

Another long pause ensued as Christopher O’Brien considered his options. “Sir…Are you certain?”

“Well, Congressman, if you are asking if I ordered a hit on the man the answer is ‘no’. If you are asking me if Fisher was a liability to Krause and to our operations, the answer is yes. As far as I know the man is dead.”

Christopher O’Brien maneuvered the wheelchair out from behind his desk and shifted his cell phone to the opposite ear. “Then…The FBI will no longer be at Cassidy’s?”

“That is my understanding. I already told you, Agent Toles is due in the Washington Bureau Office at nine in the morning tomorrow. She will be placed on an indefinite suspension pending a review of her actions. And yes, as soon as we have confirmation of Fisher’s…well…of his demise, the FBI will consider the case closed,” the president explained.

“I see,” the congressman said quietly.

“I should think you would be thrilled, Congressman. After all, you reported Alex.”

“I am,” the congressman mustered a confident tone.

“Well then, was that all your call was regarding?” Merrow inquired.

“I have a teleconference tomorrow at noon with the chairman of Ways and Means,” the congressman said.

“Yes, I heard,” President Merrow replied.

“The trade agreement with the EU and the limits on certain kinds of metal and the tariffs that France is pushing for,” the congressman continued.

“Yes?”

“What would you like me to advocate?” Christopher O’Brien asked pointedly.

“I think you know, Chris. I am less concerned with the tariffs than the limitations in the agreement, but you know that. What about HR 1929?”

“There is a great amount of support for increasing trade opportunities, but also increasing controls.”

John Merrow retrieved a glass and began filling it with his favorite scotch. “Yes, I am aware…I agree, but not at the risk of compromising our relationship with our French and Russian partners; that is a concern.”

“The bill enjoys…” the congressman began.

“The bill has issues, Congressman…find them. Our friends in France will appreciate your efforts.”

Christopher O’Brien took a deep breath, “I understand, Mr. President.”

“I’m sure you do, Congressman. Cassidy speaks French, doesn’t she?” The president asked.

“Yes, fluently…why?”

“Hmm… pity you are on such poor terms…she could be an asset.”

“Sir?”

“Well, Congressman, I’m sure you’ll have no issue explaining things to our friends if need be, though I think your ex-wife has cornered the market on charm. They would have loved her.”

“I will take care of it,” the congressman assured.

“I’m certain. Have a good afternoon, Congressman,” John Merrow replied as he hung up his phone.

Alex walked through the small apartment slowly; determined to maintain a calm and professional exterior. These were all things she had seen before, the blood spatters, the mural of photographs and clippings. Alex Toles was no rookie. She lingered around the chair and looked at the patterns on the fabric. Deliberately she headed for the far wall. Her stomach sank and then rose into her throat nearly choking her. The agent struggled to take a full breath as her eyes passed across the myriad of photos of her lover. Cassidy and the congressman, Cassidy and the agent, Cassidy at campaign stops, Cassidy in the newspaper, Cassidy walking into school, in the grocery store, with her mother, Cassidy, Cassidy, Cassidy. The agent’s exploration stopped abruptly toward the right hand side of the display. There it was. Cassidy was looking down at a small boy who was looking up at her curiously. The teacher’s face was bright; a smile that only her son could command. The agent ran a gloved finger over it and swallowed hard, attempting to relieve the lump that had embedded itself in her throat and was suffocating her. Detective Pete Ferro leaned in the doorway. “It’s disgusting.”

Alex inhaled as much air as she could and released it, still looking at the photo in front of her. “How sure are you?” She asked.

“Pretty sure. M.E. says dental agrees. Well, what dental they were able to get, not much. Some back teeth. Found his mother; they are claiming the body,” the detective answered.

Alex pivoted slowly on her heels to face the detective. “Where did they get the dental?”

“His mother. I took the leap and put out Fisher’s name. Apparently, she had the records; some work he had done before leaving for service.” Alex rubbed her temple as the detective continued. “He was only twenty-nine. How’d he do all that do you think? Stanford. Marines. Spook?” The detective asked.

Alex rubbed harder. “I’m sure he was older than twenty-nine…and not so sure about Stanford.”

“What do you mean? There’s a record…”

Alex pursed her lips. “Yeah, well, Detective…we both know records are only as good as whoever writes them.” She turned back to face the wall.

“You still don’t buy it?” He asked.

“I don’t know. You’re sure about the mother?” Alex inquired.

“Yeah, sure as I can be. I’ve known Collins for twenty years, he’s a great M.E. He’s convinced; I’m sold,” Ferro answered.

Alex nodded taking one last look at everything; memorizing the details of the room, the placement of the photos on the wall, the headlines on the clippings that Fisher chose for his mecca. She stopped at a small table just inside the door and looked at a partially used roll of stamps and a small stack of manila envelopes. She picked up the envelopes and started thumbing through them. “They’re empties,” the detective said.

“Yeah,” Alex placed them back on the table.

“Guess he didn’t get to use ‘em all,” Ferro asserted to another nodded response from the FBI agent. “You ready?” He asked.

The agent stopped again in the doorway to make one final pass with her eyes. Her view again was drawn to the wall in the distance. “You’re lucky I didn’t find you,” she whispered as she closed the door behind her.

“MOM!”

Cassidy was busy cutting up vegetables for tacos when she heard her son’s call and he crashed into her, forcing the knife she was holding to slip and cut her left hand. “Dylan! Where’s the fire?” Cassidy grasped her left hand with her right and walked to the sink to run it under some water.

“Sorry, mom,” the boy said sincerely. He looked up at his mother and saw the small trickle of red water falling into the sink. “Are you okay?”

“What happened?” A voice called from the doorway.

“It’s nothing,” Cassidy said continuing to allow the water to run over her cut. “I’m glad you’re home.”

Alex walked up behind the teacher with Dylan looking at her timidly. The agent touched his shoulder gently and smiled before reaching for his mother’s hand and pulling it toward her. “Let me see it.”

“It’s nothing,” Cassidy resisted.

“Yeah? Good, then you don’t mind if I look at it,” Alex raised an eyebrow and contemplated the hand before her. A steady trickle of red ran down the side of the small hand. “Dylan, go upstairs and get my black bag off your mom’s bed.” He nodded and ran out of the room.

“Alex…it’s fine,” Cassidy insisted. Alex stared at the teacher’s hand. Her thoughts turning to the display she had just seen; spatters of blood that adorned the beautiful face she loved spanning feet at time. “Alex? Hey…”

Dylan nearly tripped himself running back into the room. Alex accepted the bag and set it on the counter. She gently guided Cassidy’s hand back under the water and then placed a towel over it. “Hold this on it,” she directed as she reached into the bag. “I have some butterfly strips in here somewhere.”

Cassidy watched the agent’s expression as Alex focused her energy and attention on her exploration of her bag, one hand
still holding Cassidy’s two. “Dylan,” the teacher said, “why don’t you go pick out a movie for all of us, okay? I’ll be in to see what you find in a minute.” She gestured with a tip of her head toward the other room. He nodded and headed off. “Alex…”

“They’re in here….”

Cassidy pulled her hand away and placed her right hand under the agent’s chin. “Alex…”

“Cass… I need to get…”

“Look at me,” the teacher said. “Alex…what is going on?” The agent lifted her gaze and the teacher immediately saw the pain and worry in her lover’s eyes. “Honey, it’s just a cut.”

Alex shook her head and took the smaller hand. “I don’t ever want to see you hurt.”

“What happened today, Alex?” The agent just shook her head.

Cassidy sighed. “That bad?”

Alex shook her head again. “He’s gone, Cassidy.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

Alex forced a smile as she slowly began to realize where she was. She looked again into the bag and finally pulled out a small box. “Let me do this,” she said softly. As she applied the small bandages she concentrated on the present; the woman she loved standing in front of her.

The teacher complied with the agent’s request and watched silently as the Alex tended to her long, shallow cut. “Maybe you should have been a doctor,” Cassidy complimented. Alex tenderly stroked the back of her lover’s hand. “You have a wonderful bedside manner,” Cassidy flirted, still concerned about the agent’s behavior but sensing a lightened mood was in order.

Alex looked up and smiled. “Do I?”

“Yes, you do,” Cassidy replied. “Are you all right, Alex?”

The agent closed her eyes and wiped the memories from the hours that had since passed away. She opened them again and stroked Cassidy’s cheek. “I’m just glad to be home, with you and Dylan,” Alex said. Her expression changed again
and Cassidy looked at her curiously. Catching the teacher’s response the agent leaned into her ear, “…..and looking forward to showing you how good my bedside manner really is.”

“Mmm…Well then this teacher had better finish her homework, also known as tacos,” Cassidy quipped as Alex leaned in and kissed Cassidy’s neck seductively leaving the teacher momentarily breathless, “Alex…if you…”

The agent gently trailed kisses further up her lover’s neck until she reached her ear and whispered to her, “If I what?”

The small blonde woman bit her lip and let out a soft moan, “I can’t finish if you…”

“Mmm? If I?”

“Alex….”

Alex slowly pulled back and looked at the woman in front of her. She cleared all conscious thought and questions and looked into green eyes that had darkened slightly from desire. The agent smiled. “Be careful with your homework. I have plans to show you a different component of my ‘beside’ manner later,” Alex winked.

Cassidy caught her breath as Alex smirked and began heading out of the room. “Where are you going?”

“See what Dylan picked,” Alex shrugged. Cassidy shook her head. She was concerned about Alex’s obvious mood swing. But, it seemed that at least for the moment, the agent was in a good place. The agent had her plans for their evening, and so did Cassidy. She would find out the truth later with her own bedside manner.