Commitment (14 page)

“You’ve never told me much about your time in France,” Alex said.

“No. I guess I haven’t,” Cassidy admitted. She exhaled forcefully and closed her eyes. “It was not exactly the best time in my life.” Alex stroked Cassidy’s hair and waited for her to continue. “I needed to get away. Studying abroad was the perfect solution.”

Alex could feel the tension rising in Cassidy. “Get away from what?” she asked.

“From Chris.”

“Cass?” Alex was certain she could feel the heat of Cassidy’s tears through her T-shirt. “Please tell me he never hurt you.”

“No. Not physically.”

“Go on,” Alex encouraged.

Cassidy shifted nervously and sighed. “It was right at the end of my junior year. Chris had already hinted at an engagement. I was,” Cassidy closed her eyes and struggled to continue.

“What?” Alex asked softly. “You don’t have to tell me, Cass.”

“It’s not that. I just…I don’t know, Alex. Looking back now, I just…sometimes I can’t understand why I stayed with him; why I married him at all.”

“What happened?” Alex asked gently.

“Oh, well…at first I was excited. He was already working in a large firm in San Francisco; making quite the name for himself. He can be quite charming; you know?” Alex remained silent, and Cassidy giggled. “No, I guess you don’t.” Cassidy patted her wife’s stomach. “You’ve only seen a glimpse of that. It’s the real Christopher O’Brien that you know.”

Alex shook her head. “Cassidy….”

“No, it’s true. I should have obeyed my instincts then. I went to visit him, unannounced of course. I thought it would be a surprise; you know? A romantic weekend before the summer break. I was excited. I had just gotten a job for the summer in this great little bohemian café. I had roommates lined up to share a small apartment in Haight-Ashbury.” Cassidy grew whimsical for a moment as her thoughts strayed. “I thought it would be perfect for me. I always had this crazy notion I would write a novel about two couples who met in the sixties and whose lives took different turns.” Alex smiled silently. She loved hearing Cassidy’s stories. She heard a dramatic sigh escape Cassidy’s lips and knew it signaled a change in emotion. “Anyway, I was excited to tell him. I thought that he would be happy for me. I would stay on the west coast for the summer instead of returning home,” she chuckled sarcastically.

“But?”

“Well, he flipped out. No wife of his was going to work in a dingy, liberal café. What was I looking to find? Men?” Cassidy took a deep breath. “I pointed out that we were hardly married and that I would do whatever I pleased.” Cassidy felt the slight jiggle beneath her and knew that Alex was chuckling. “Is that funny?”

“No,” Alex answered. “I just can’t imagine anyone telling you what you could do.”

“Mm. Well, I never enjoyed that. But, I wasn’t always the person I am now, Alex.” Alex understood that as well. “I was furious. I mean, really angry. He was angry. I don’t even remember everything he said. I do remember,” she stopped as she felt the knot in her stomach begin to make its presence known at the vivid memory. “He said that he would never marry a common whore.” Alex flinched at the words as they rolled off her wife’s tongue, but she remained silent and listened, knowing there was more. “I told him if I had become a whore then it was because he made me that way,” Cassidy’s voice dropped. Alex heard the soft whimper from Cassidy’s tears as they continued to fall. “I went to leave. He grabbed me. Hard. I screamed for him to let me go. He did. Then he swung his hand back. I kicked him in the shin, grabbed the door knob and ran out of his apartment.” Cassidy nestled closer to Alex. Alex held her gently; feeling the trembling in her wife’s body. “He shouted that he would never marry a whore anyway. I just kept going. I decided that next week to go to France. Didn’t take his calls. Didn’t see him until he showed up at my mother’s right before I left for Paris.”

“I’m sorry, Cass.”

“Yeah. Me too. I should have known.”

“He never tried to hit you again?”

“No. He had some harsh words now and again. But, no. The truth is, Alex, we hardly saw one another. It was…well,” Cassidy stopped briefly. “I guess, in some ways we used each other,” she admitted quietly.

“I don’t think you are capable of that,” Alex reassured.

“Knowingly? Maybe not. He was my first Alex. He offered me the world on a silver platter. I just…”

“You were young,” Alex said.

“I was selfish and stupid.”

Alex sat up slightly and brought Cassidy to face her. “Cassidy. You may be many things; opinionated, strong, even temperamental,” Alex said as Cassidy raised her brow. “You are neither selfish nor stupid. There is not a soul who knows you that would describe you that way. Believe me.”

“You’re bias,” Cassidy said.

“No, I’m not.”

Cassidy shook her head. “Well, there is one person that I think would…”

“That asshole is no judge of anyone’s character. He has none himself,” Alex said bluntly. Cassidy smiled. “So, that’s why you went to France to study?” Cassidy nodded. “But you went back to him.” Cassidy shrugged. Alex let out a heavy sigh and pulled Cassidy into her arms. “No one has the ability of hindsight, sweetheart. If they did they would never learn anything,” Alex said. Cassidy laughed.

“What?” Alex asked.

“That’s something like what Pip said when I told him the story.”

“Pip knows?” Alex asked.

“Chris kept calling and I didn’t want to talk to him. I got drunk one night and unloaded it all on him; in French no less,” Cassidy chuckled.

“Can’t imagine he was too thrilled by that story.”

“No. Probably not. I don’t remember much more than that,” Cassidy confessed.

“Cass?”

“Hmm?”

“Chris was your first? I mean, like the first person you…”

“Yeah.”

“And, John was just….that’s it; isn’t it? I mean other than me?” Alex asked a bit sheepishly.

“Does that surprise you?” Cassidy asked. Alex just kissed her head. “Alex? Does that bother you?”

“No,” Alex answered. “I just know how lucky I am.”

“What are we going to do about him?” Cassidy’s voice was tinged with apprehension.

“Whatever we have to,” Alex said definitively.

“Pip?” Cassidy whispered.

“If it comes to that, yes.”

“I wish you were the first,” Cassidy barely whispered. “Sometimes I feel like you were.”

Alex understood perfectly what Cassidy meant. “As long as I am the last,” she said, lightening the mood.

“Promise,” Cassidy answered.

“It will be all right. I promise,” Alex said as she closed her eyes.

Saturday, December 13
^th

Alex walked along the train tracks until she finally reached the cracked cement of the old platform. She was grateful that nature had chosen to hold the frequent New England snow at bay. This walk was no picnic in the best of conditions. It took the agent nearly forty minutes hiking through dense woods to reach the destination. She had to admit that Jonathan Krause had found the perfect meeting place. No one came here. Once in a while this place might see some kids that wanted to party or the occasional addict, neither of which posed any threat to what she and her new partner needed for privacy. Should anyone see them, they would likely surmise that the pair were law enforcement looking for a drug dealer and scurry quickly. She laughed softly as she approached the large room where she was certain to find her unlikely friend. “Waiting long?” she asked.

Jonathan Krause turned and offered her a wry smile. “No longer than any of the other men in your life I suspect.”

“Ouch,” Alex answered playfully. She sincerely doubted that most people would believe Jonathan Krause had a sense of humor at all. It was one of the things that drew her closer to
the man, even if his sense of humor was often at her expense. She understood the jabbing. It relieved tension for them both, and she could dish it back just as quickly when the mood struck her. “Well, don’t tell me you invited me to such a lovely place to discuss my track record with men,” she supplied.

“Hardly,” he laughed. His features seemed to soften slightly as his voice followed suit. “How are you?” he asked with concern.

Alex squinted with curiosity. It was not that it was unusual for Krause to ask the question, but she was certain she denoted something different in his demeanor and tone; something she could not quite put her finger on. “I’m all right.” Before Krause could ask another question, she continued. “Dylan and Cassidy are fine.”

“Good. I had an interesting meeting with Edmond,” he said.

“Anything more on my father? Any clue why he cut off those funds to ASA?”

Krause forced a smile and shifted a bit. “No. Edmond was unaware that your father had done that. He didn’t seem overly concerned, but I don’t think he knows exactly why.”

“And my father?”

Krause nodded. “Some. Seems he was not always just a money broker,” he explained. Alex studied his face closely as he continued. “He was in the field for quite some time when your grandfather was still alive.”

“My father was a field agent?” she asked in disbelief. Krause nodded. “A spook?”

Krause could not help but smile and shake his head slightly. “Alex, you are a spook.” She huffed a bit and nodded. “There’s more,” he said.

“What?”

“His partner….”

“Shit….just don’t tell me his partner was related to O’Brien or something. I swear…”

“Seriously?” Krause mocked the idea. He stopped and then turned stoic. “No. Alex, his partner was my mother.”

“You’re not kidding,” Alex said seriously. “Are you?” she asked. “Are you kidding?” she repeated. Krause shook his head.

“Well, that explains them not wanting us to meet,” she surmised. She looked over to notice that the man before her seemed to find his shoes suddenly interesting. “Okay? What? That’s not all; is it?”

Krause looked up and smiled half-heatedly. “You know there is always more to every story,” he answered.

“Mm-hm. What about this new development with O’Brien?” she asked. “I assume you told Edmond. Did he have any clue who might be listening?”

“No. He did seem moderately concerned. Which, for Edmond, is rare. This spilt between the Russian contingent in The Collaborative and the rest; it’s not good, Alex. They are seeking to compete now with our interests.”

“He thinks the Russians…”

“Maybe. Claire is in Dimitri’s pocket. And, Alex…there is money missing from O’Brien’s campaign.”

Alex bristled. “What are you talking about?”

“Right before he died,” Krause paused and sighed. “O’Brien went to your father.”

“I already knew that.”

“No, not about you. The Broker set up the funnels for PAC donations. Masterson Marketing, CBC Consultants are CIA fronts; just like Carecom. A payment schedule with a list of services to purchase was outlined for the campaign. The campaign director was chosen.”

“Okay. So, just like with Carecom services were purchased on paper that need not be rendered and the money filtered through…”

“Exactly. Except it hasn’t been. O’Brien fired the campaign director we placed. Those funds have never been transferred.
Without our person inside, well….Edmond can’t be certain where the funds are being diverted.”

“What does that have to do with bugging my house?” Alex asked. “You think they are hoping I will give up the ghost? Give up something there about Carecom’s accounts? Somehow get access to our pipeline?”

Krause nodded. “Exactly.”

“I don’t know. That doesn’t make sense to me. I would never…”

“I know, but
they
still don’t know. They know I have been there, Alex. We have no reason to hide those conversations from the CIA. It makes some sense.”

“Maybe. I have a feeling there is more than that,” Alex said. “So, you think O’Brien is skimming for himself?” Krause shrugged. “Nah,” Alex said. “I agree. He is too much of a coward for that. Someone else is syphoning that money. The question is where. What if we had that conversation?” she asked with a gleam in her eye.

Krause laughed. “Dummy accounts?” he offered. Alex raised her brow. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he smiled. “Follow the funds,” he said. Alex’s jaw tightened slightly, and she sighed. “What is it?” Krause asked.

“Pip,” she began.

“Oh, this is not good,” he said. “You only call me Pip when you want to give me a hard time or something is wrong.”

She let out another audible breath. “My father, in his letter to Cassidy,” she stopped and retrieved it from her pocket and handed it to him. “Maybe you should just read it for yourself.”

Alex watched as Krause read over the paper in his hands slowly. His expression remained remarkably calm. It was a trait that all great agents possessed. She noticed that he stared at the paper for a few seconds longer after finishing before very carefully folding it and handing it back to her. She was surprised when a gradual smile appeared on his face. “So? When do we leave for Stockholm?” he asked.

“Pip…I…”

“It’s all right, Alex,” he assured her. Alex started to protest, and he held up his hand. “I’m not surprised by the letter,” he said as he noted the questions in Alex’s eyes. “Edmond told me many things, Alex. I blamed him. I blamed him for John, for his death. I blamed myself.”