“Please, anything BUT Mrs. O’Brien,” Cassidy laughed leading the agent into the large living room. “I get to hear that all day at school. Cassidy, please, if you are going to be here….just Cassidy.” The agent nodded and took the seat offered her on the couch. She watched the woman continue to pick up several toys and stow them, still chatting as she moved. Alex could not help but smile at the way this woman moved about with seemingly never-ending energy. Cassidy threw a couple of toys into a small box near the fireplace. “Dylan….my son,” she explained, finally taking a seat across from the agent in a large chair.
“Look, I know this is probably uncomfortable,” Alex began. “But I think it’s a good idea…at least now.”
Cassidy looked at the agent. “Chris tells me you are a friend of the president.” She shook her head as though having some epiphany, “God. I AM sorry… you’ve been traveling. Did you want some coffee or,” the woman said motioning toward the kitchen.
“Oh…no,” Alex smiled. “Thanks, though.” Cassidy looked at her and their eyes met again. Both sat frozen for a moment, what each had expected from their meeting was a far cry from what the other’s eyes seemed to convey. Alex bit her lip gently and mentally snapped herself back to reality. “The president and I have known each other a long time, yes. I served under him in Iraq.” Cassidy listened intently as Alex continued. “I was assigned to work with the locals…to determine threats. We got to know each other very well.”
“I see… Do you speak the language?”
“I do.”
“So…what do you do at the FBI? I mean when you’re not forced to go play bodyguard to some high school teacher and her six year old?”
Cassidy was a bundle of questions and Alex was surprised at how willingly she seemed to be answering all of them. “I am a profiler.”
Cassidy stood up and looked toward the kitchen. “I think I could use some coffee,” she offered beginning the short trek to the kitchen with Alex following behind, surveying the detail in her surroundings. “How does one become a profiler?” Cassidy asked with genuine curiosity as she grabbed a bag of coffee from a cabinet and began the task at hand.
“Well, I am a forensic psychologist, at least that’s what my degree says,” Alex joked.
Cassidy filled the coffee maker with water and sat on a bar stool across from the agent. “So, you think these threats are serious?”
Alex saw the sudden concern in the woman’s eyes. She tightened her lips and spoke cautiously, “I don’t know, but I think it’s safer to consider them dangerous than to discount them as a prank.”
Cassidy sighed. “Do you think this is someone with some grudge….I mean after the divorce… well…to discredit Chris?”
Alex looked over the woman’s shoulder at the coffee maker as it began to drip. “No.”
“Really?” Cassidy sounded surprised. “He’s gotten letters and pictures ever since he started in public office….I guess I just…”
The agent looked back at the woman seated across from her. “That is normal, but not so many from the same person.”
“How many?” Cassidy’s expression and voice took on a stern tone. Alex stumbled realizing suddenly that the congressman may not have conveyed the seriousness of the threats to his ex-wife fully. “Well?” Cassidy asked again. Alex stared at her. Cassidy stood and turned to the cabinet trying to calm her rising temper. She pulled two mugs down and looked back at the agent, “Look…Agent Toles…”
“Alex…just Alex.”
“Alex….if you are going to be here… I need to know why. How much danger are we in?”
Alex examined the woman who held her gaze firmly. “I can’t say that… maybe none…but eleven letters in a week is a lot; all from the same person.”
Cassidy poured them each a cup of coffee and set them down on the island. She silently made her way to the large stainless steel refrigerator, “cream or milk?”
“Black is fine,” Alex said. “Listen, it may be nothing.”
The woman walked back to her seat with a small carton of milk. “Or it might be something,” she raised an eyebrow.
Alex shrugged slightly. “I am here to make sure that it does not become anything.” She was mesmerized by the teacher’s stare. Cassidy O’Brien was not what she had imagined. She was chatty and personable. Opinionated? Perhaps, but she was also extremely likable. Alex immediately understood why the public seemed to have fallen in love with the woman. “Alex….” She cautioned herself in her mind. “What the hell are you doing?”
Cassidy’s gaze narrowed but a slight smile began to creep onto her face. Something about Alex made her feel safe. She watched the agent sip her coffee. Alex’s stare had drifted into the cup and she appeared to be lost in some private thought. “So…what do we do?” Cassidy chimed.
Alex nearly choked on the coffee as she processed the question; her mind preoccupied with her study of the congressman’s ex-wife far more than the situation at hand. Cassidy giggled slightly and handed the agent a towel. “Long day, huh?”
Alex gave an embarrassed smile, “something like that… yes.” Cassidy nodded. “Look…Mrs. O’,” Cassidy raised an eyebrow at the agent. “Cassidy…is there anyone, anyone that you have noticed hanging around more than usual…someone you don’t know… at work or here…. Your son’s school?”
Cassidy’s body shuddered at the last part of the agent’s question. “Are you worried about Dylan?”
Alex saw the fear that she knew only could appear in a parent’s eye and immediately set out to calm it. She reached across the island and touched Cassidy’s hand. “I’m just covering the bases,” she said with an encouraging glance.
Cassidy inhaled and stared at the table top. The thought of Dylan in danger shook her to her core and the feel of the agent’s hand on hers produced what felt to her like a surge of electricity. Alex removed her hand and continued. “Anyone at all?” She asked gently.
The woman across from her swallowed hard. “I must just be reacting to the possibility of Dylan in danger,” she silently assured herself before looking up to answer the agent. “No… no one…well, except the endless parade of photographers and reporters. They can change from one minute to the next. Their faces just sort of blend after a while, you know?”
“I’m sure,” Alex said. “Try and pay more attention to them… if you can…if anyone seems more consistent than the others.” Cassidy nodded her understanding.
Just then she heard the front door open. “Cassie?” Rose called.
“In here, Mom.”
In an instant a small voice broke loose, “Mom! Look!” Alex looked over the island to see a small boy holding up a blue ribbon of some sort.
“What’s this?” Cassidy asked, taking it and looking at it.
“First Place,” he said with a decided nod.
“He won the fifty yard dash at Field Day,” Rose said, now entering the kitchen and catching sight of Alex. “Oh…hello,” she greeted.
“Oh… Alex Toles… meet my mother, Rose McCollum.”
“Nice to meet you,” the agent greeted, extending her hand.” Rose smiled and accepted the gesture.
“And this,” Cassidy said lifting the boy onto her lap, “is my famous sprinter, Dylan.”
Alex watched as the woman brushed aside the boy’s short bangs and looked on him with pride. Her eyes seemed to dance as she looked at him. What was it about this woman; she wondered to herself. “Well, hello Dylan,” the agent said.
“Ms. Toles is going to stay with us for a little while to help Mommy with some things,” Cassidy explained.
“Like the dishes?” He asked looking at the agent.
Cassidy laughed. “Not exactly.” He looked at his mother, puzzled, and then at the agent who rose to her feet.
“Actually,” Alex smiled, “I’m very good at dishes.” She picked up the mugs and brought them to the sink.
“Oooo… I like her,” Rose joked.
Cassidy shook her head. “You don’t have to
…”
Alex smiled as she rinsed the mugs. “I actually have many talents…including the knowledge of dishwashers,” she kidded.
Cassidy laughed. “Well, I look forward to learning exactly what those are,” she quipped back. Alex smiled. This assignment was not turning out at all as she had expected hours ago.
he newspaper leaned slightly on the bar as the news played a reel of Congressman Christopher O’Brien in the background. The congressman was walking with the president and some other dignitaries. The hands holding the paper trembled slightly as the man pulled his glance to the monitor above. His eyes became almost slits as he watched the short reel play and he returned his attention to the photograph on the page.
“He’s a fool,” the bartender noted looking at the picture and then at the monitor himself. “Beautiful woman like that… what an idiot.” The man leered at the bartender. “What? You got something against beautiful women,” the bartender cracked, “or just politicians?”
The man returned to the photo and reached for his glass, downing the final sip of his whiskey. He looked at the photo for another long moment before reaching in his pocket and placing a five dollar bill on the counter. He traced the photo with his index finger longingly and stood to make his exit. He was tall and well-built with a military style haircut and deep brown eyes. He sauntered toward the door, apparently aware of his good looks. A young woman at the far end of the bar reached out for him as he began to pass by, paper in hand. “Hey,” she said. “Buy you a drink?”
He clutched the paper tighter and looked at her severely. “Not interested,” he answered pulling away from her touch and exiting the bar.
“What’s with him?” The woman asked the bartender.
The bartender just shrugged. “Guess he does have something against beautiful women.”
“Weirdo,” she said with some disgust.
Alex excused herself to answer her cell phone and walked into the other room. “She seems fine, Cassie,” Rose said as Cassidy pulled some vegetables out of the refrigerator and started chopping them.
“Yeah…. Well she’s only been here an hour.”
“Cassie…”
Cassidy laughed. “Dylan, go easy with that truck,” she cautioned as her son crawled across the floor swiftly crashing his toy dump truck into various pieces of furniture and making his own crashing sounds. “I’m just saying…it’s not a question of whether or not she is nice, Mom. I just want some normalcy.”
“Good luck with THAT,” her mother retorted as she moved to help herself to a pepper from the cutting board, soliciting a playful slap from her daughter.
“Yeah… so…what’s the story there, Fallon?” Alex asked her partner through the phone.
“He says he has no idea. Lots of people have issues with him politically but he seems like he is kind of a likable guy. I don’t really see him as having a lot of personal enemies.”
“You figured that out in one day?” Alex said.
“Yeah…actually.”
Alex held the phone away from her and shook her head at it before returning it to her ear. “Everyone has enemies, Fallon. They just don’t always know it.”
“Always the optimist, Toles,” he said.
“Yeah well…comes with the territory.”
“What about you?” He asked.
Alex looked toward the kitchen. “Seems pretty normal here. I don’t know yet. Jury’s out.”
“On what? You suspect the wife?” Alex paused. For some reason Fallon referring to Cassidy as ‘the wife’ bothered her. “Toles…you there?”
“No…I mean yes, I’m here…no I don’t suspect Mrs. O’Brien… but I do wonder who the target is.”
“Maybe there is NO target, Toles.”
Alex gave an uncomfortable chuckle as she headed back toward the kitchen and saw Cassidy working on dinner and reprimanding Dylan again. She watched at a distance as Cassidy laid down her knife, wiped her hands on a towel and calmly but deliberately walked to the boy and removed the truck from his hands. “That is enough, Dylan. Go to your room for a little while and play until you can calm down.” Alex suppressed a laugh as the boy stood and pouted at his mother. Cassidy was unflinching, “Think again, little man…get marching.”
“Toles? What the hell?”
“Sorry,” Alex couldn’t help but snicker as the boy stomped past her in the hallway, briefly looking up at the agent to convey his six year old dissatisfaction with his mother. “There is, Fallon…I feel it.” She started to head into the kitchen when Cassidy noticed her and she cut off the conversation abruptly. “It’s fine… I’ll see you Saturday…talk to you then.” Alex hung up the phone and put it back in her pocket.
“Everything okay?” Cassidy asked.
“Sure…just my partner,” Alex explained. “You need some help?”
Rose smiled from the kitchen table. “Be careful what you offer her,” she cautioned.
“Nice,” Cassidy laughed turning back to Alex. “No. You traveled all day and you are a guest. Perhaps Joan Rivers here can show you where your room is,” she glared playfully at her mother.
“Oh…whatever… don’t listen to her,” Rose laughed. “Though you probably won’t have much choice,” she whispered to the agent just loud enough that her daughter could hear. “You’ll be lucky to get a word in edge wise with that one.”
“I heard that,” Cassidy said returning to her dinner preparation.
“Ears like a bat, that one,” Rose offered quietly as they headed out of the kitchen.
“That too,” Cassidy called playfully. Alex followed Rose up the stairs to the bedroom that had been readied for her arrival.
“Do you really think someone is trying to hurt Chris… or Cassie?” Rose asked as Alex stepped into the spacious room.
Alex gave the woman a comforting smile. “I hope not,” she said.
“That’s not very convincing,” the older woman said.
Alex sighed. “Well, I would rather be careful and hopeful then hopeful and careless.”
“Huh.” Rose released a sigh. “Well, I’m glad you are here.” Alex smiled. “Don’t you have a bag?”
“Oh…yeah…it’s in the car… I’ll get it later. Might rouse less attention when it is dark.”
“I see,” Rose said. “Well, the bathroom is right there if you want to freshen up. I’m sure Cassie will have dinner ready soon.”
Alex smiled, “thank you.” Rose left and closed the door and Alex immediately collapsed back onto the queen size bed. She rubbed her hands over her face and thought about the letters. Something was keeping her unsettled, a gut feeling, one she had experienced before. For some reason, though, being here with this woman, it seemed to be affecting her emotionally. She feared the congressman might not be the target. She pulled herself up, stretched out her back and winced at the twinge of pain running the length of her body. Stretching gently, she walked to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. She looked in the mirror and took a deep breath. “Concentrate, Toles.”
Heading back down the hallway she watched the small boy slide down the stairs on his butt. Alex laughed out loud wondering what Cassidy would have thought of that. She thought about her nephew who was close to the same age. “Typical,” she mused to herself. The smell of taco night seemed to permeate the entire house and it was a welcome sensation for the agent. Her life tended to consist of frozen dinners, macaroni and cheese and take-out. She entered the kitchen to a sight she only saw on her trips home to New England. That was one thing she was happy about with this assignment; if all went well she might have a chance to see her brother and his family.
“Hey,” Cassidy greeted the agent’s return. “Have a seat.” Alex smiled. “Help yourself… Crazy I know, but we don’t stand on any ceremony here.”
“Works for me,” the agent said.
The dinner conversation was surprisingly easy for Alex. Dylan had a bunch of stories about field day and the agent found him amusing. She watched him and listen
ed intently, laughing as he acted out the day physically with his tacos. “Did you ever run a race?” He asked the agent.
Alex took a sip of her iced tea and answered. “I have, actually. I was on the track team at West Point. I ran hurdles.”
“What are those?” He asked.
“Those are things you have to jump over while you run,” Cassidy explained and looked at the agent. Alex had the most stunning blue eyes she had ever seen. She found herself drawn to them somehow. The agent held the woman’s gaze for a minute and felt her heart begin to quicken as they exchanged a smile.
“West Point?” Rose said. “Wow, not a lot of women still.”
“No,” Alex conceded breaking the exchanged glance with Cassidy and turning toward the woman’s mother.
“Did you ever win a ribbon?” Dylan asked now.
“A few,” Alex said modestly. “But none as nice as that one,” she gestured to the ribbon now attached to the large refrigerator. The boy beamed with pride and his eyes flew open wide at her compliment. Cassidy was surprised when she felt her heart skip at the agent’s interaction with her son.
“Well,” Rose said, beginning to collect the empty plates, “I am going to get going after I clean this up so you can all get settled.”
“Let me give you a hand,” Alex offered.
“No, no…You go get your things. Sun is setting…next time.” Alex nodded her appreciation.
“Do you need some help?” Cassidy asked the agent.
“No, I’ve got it.”
“Well, Dylan…Why don’t you and I get you washed up?”
The boy moaned and Alex smiled. “I’m going to do the same thing,” the agent winked.
He pondered her statement. “Will you teach me to jump over hoidles?”
“Hurdles,” Cassidy corrected with a slight snicker at his mispronunciation.
“We’ll see,” the agent said pretending to think carefully about the request.
“Okay,” he said running for the stairs.
The two women reached the foyer as Dylan half ran, half crawled up the stairs. “If you need anything,” Cassidy offered.
Intersection Page 2