Virtually Timeless
Page 19
Purse slung over her shoulder, with a tray of coffee orders in one hand and a stack of to-be-delivered messages in the other, Alyssa had no control as her balancing act flew into the air, leaving a deluge of coffee-splattered, mocha-scented letters cluttering the entrance. “No, no, no.” After flinging her hands, she snatched a pile of napkins and frowned at the mess surrounding her. She drew in a deep breath. Indignation seething inside, she clenched a fist to repress her reaction to a simmer.
“Son of a bitch.” The dark-haired man’s attention dropped to his camelhair coat. Brushing off coffee beads to keep them from soaking into his lapel, he flashed a gaze toward Alyssa, offering a lame apology. “Sorry. This mess is totally on me.”
A tinge of satisfaction befell her, as she eyed his splattered attire. “I can see that.” She chuckled.
He followed her line of vision and glanced downward. “Perfect.” Grabbing more napkins, he cleaned whipped cream from his shoes then wiped his pants before noticing a sizable blotch on the pocket of his camelhair. “Damn it.” Tugging off the coat, he draped it across the side of the condiment stand and reached for an arbitrary towel clumped into a mound beside him, then pressed on the stain. Not until he appeared to be satisfied with his own results, did he return his attention to Alyssa, now squatting beside him, cleaning the coffee puddle. “Here, let me help you.”
She rolled her eyes but said nothing, although her thoughts rebuked him. It’s about damn time you focused on the chaos you caused…
The stranger knelt with towel in hand and sloshed it around in the pool of coffee, making the mess exponentially worse, while Alyssa fought to keep her boiling frustration at bay. Shifting her gaze to her scattered and smothered envelopes, she turned and duck-walked, gathering them into a drenched pile. She clenched her jaw, then shook and examined each packet, an effort that did little more to minimize the damage than changing splotches to dribbles.
When an attendant came to the rescue and began mopping the floor, the stranger stood, retrieved his coat, and draped it over an arm. “Damn. Can this day get any worse?” He glanced at his watch. “Son of a––now, I’m running late.” Turning toward Alyssa, he reached into his back pocket and drew out a business card then handed it to her. “Take this. I’ll pay your dry-cleaning bill. Just shoot me an email.” Instead of buying a coffee, he smacked open the door and rushed outside, quickly disappearing into the busy crowd.
Alyssa’s last nerve had her grinding her teeth as she inspected her own coat for stains. Surprised her clothing escaped the coffee cascade, she stuffed the man’s proffer into her pocket without even glancing at his name. She felt a bit atoned that the bulk of the mess splashed over him as opposed to her. But a quick glance at her letters doused the brief restitution. Again, she blotted the notes in her charge in an attempt to salvage them, hoping the incident wouldn’t cost her job.
When the attendant finished mopping the floor, he asked if he could remake her order.
Alyssa nodded and thanked him, still wiping her mess. Why did the collision have to happen to her? She cussed the arrogant man under her breath. How dare he blow her off after causing the incident?
Instead of the attendant, a manager returned to the scene with a carryout tray of fresh coffee. “This batch is on the house. I saw that whole scenario go down.” He shook his head. “That guy could have at least helped you with your mail, since he was the reason your envelopes were soiled.”
“Thank you so much.” Alyssa appreciatively took the order. “I’m sorry to make such a mess.”
The manager shrugged. “Hey, you did nothing wrong. No worries. Stuff happens.”
“Tell that to my boss.” Rolling her eyes, Alyssa splayed the pile of notes in her hand. “How can I deliver these to senators and congressmen?” Heat raged in her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut for a long beat, resisting the march of berating anger clenching her stomach. True, the accident wasn’t her fault, but if she hadn’t been so engrossed in listening to her music, she might have seen the man busting through the door and avoided the mishap altogether.
The manager smiled and raised an eyebrow. “The damage looks superficial. Maybe you could just replace the envelopes?” He gazed at the soggy array. “Look, the coffee didn’t stain the addresses beyond recognition, and I doubt the damage seeped through to the inside messages.”
“Perhaps…” Alyssa’s frown faded as she inspected the notes and considered his idea. “You might be right. Thanks.” If she hurried to her office and simply switched the envelopes, she could deliver the messages with only a slight delay…no one would be the wiser. Gathering her paperwork and coffee, she rushed outside then scurried to her office, assured the plan just might save her ass.
In theory, the switch was a no-brainer. She never dreamed one instinctual cover-your-ass choice could threaten her life. Opening the coffee-stained envelopes and switching the notes to identical, deliverable packets seemed the perfect solution––until she discovered the one note never intended for delivery…the note that validated the existence of a shadow government.
Geez, if only she hadn’t opened that wretched letter. She gasped the moment she saw an immediate burn order splashed in red across the top of the page above a simple title: The List. As she read on, she swallowed hard, her breath catching in her throat. She had no idea how deep the faction went, or which treasonous federal officials would be revealed once the list was decoded.
Racking her brain, she couldn’t recall where the delivery had come from. She couldn’t remember picking it up from any of the offices. But she had to admit her mindless deliveries rarely demanded her undivided attention. Still, the envelope was smaller than the others, and it didn’t carry the standard Federal Government insignia.
A loud honking from a car speeding through the traffic signal brought her thoughts back to the moment. Dear God. The last thing she needed was a jolt to boost her adrenaline.
Biting the edge of her bottom lip, Alyssa shoved her trembling hands into her pockets and picked up her pace, rationalizing her decision. She didn’t intend to snoop that day. She simply couldn’t deliver soggy, damaged mail and expect no one would notice. An entry-level job meant no demotions existed. If she didn’t perform up to expectations, firing was the only alternative. Her priority…she had to save her dream-job.
Slowing her pace, she entered the Capitol Rotunda and gazed at the vast marvel surrounding her. How did her dream morph into the nightmare now clenching her throat in a stranglehold…a nightmare from which she couldn’t awaken? She shuddered. Not in her wildest dreams had she ever expected the politicized bureaucrats and pundits on Capitol Hill would swallow her whole.
Discovering an encrypted list had her bursting at the seams to tell someone. How could she simply ignore the message and let the powers that be sweep their dirty little secrets under a politicized rug? But who could she turn to or believe in enough to provide solid advice? Anyone could be involved in this “Association.” For weeks, trust no one had been her mantra. But each passing day had her more convinced someone lurked in the shadows, watching her every move, and the paranoia smothered her with feelings of impending doom.
Fiddling with the locket around her neck, she thought about her twin…the only person Alyssa truly trusted, aside from her brother. Emily had a sixth sense that seemed to guide her decisions. She would know whether to pass along the secret list or burn it.
Several times over the last three weeks, Alyssa started to call Emily, and each time she stopped short of pushing Send. Derek taught his intern well. If “The Association” tailed Alyssa, her phone would likely be bugged, too. The thought of putting her twin in danger clamped Alyssa’s stomach like a coiling snake squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. A letter sent from a random mail drop would go undetected. She’d wait until the two could meet. In the meantime, Alyssa would lay low, do her job, and avoid confrontation.
Glancing at her watch, she realized the late hour. Another workday drew to an end, and she’d need to rush i
f she wanted to catch her train home. Exiting at the rear of the Capitol Rotunda, she again tightened the grasp on her coat collar, wishing she’d remembered to grab the blue and white scarf she usually wore on windy mornings. The chill within her deepened as she strode the same route, she had walked every day for the past year. West on Independence to the L’Enfant Plaza Metro Station where she caught the Silver train line to McLean, Virginia. From there, she drove home.
Arriving just in time to catch her shuttle, she drew in a deep breath and stepped from the platform into the train. When the door closed, she squeezed her eyes tightly then released the pressure to relax the pinch twisting in the back of her neck. Once she knew Emily received her message, Alyssa felt sure together they could devise a plan to end her nightmare. She leaned back in her seat deep in thought, feeling thankful she survived another day––looking past a dark, hooded figure hunched only a few seats away.
Virtually Timeless
©2020 Casi McLean
All rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author or the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
This novel is part of
High-Tech Crime Solvers
series, but it
can be read as a standalone novel.
Published by The Wild Rose Press, Inc
Email:
casi@casimclean.com
Editing and Proofreading by N.N. Light
Cover Design by Uvi Poznansky
Formatting by Uviart
P.O. Box 3233 Santa Monica CA 90408
Blog:
uviart.blogspot.com
Email:
uvi.author@gmail.com
First Edition 2020
Printed in the United States of America