“I’m left-handed.” Although with a keyboard, I used both hands equally.
“So, are you worried about your job?”
“My job? No.”
“How many assignments do you have?”
“What do you mean?”
“Besides the trial. What else?”
“That’s it, so far.”
When his phone vibrated, he took it out of his pocket and swiped the screen. “Desi just landed. She’ll be here as soon as she can be.”
“What time is it?” I looked over at the clock, stunned to see it was almost six.
A nurse walked in and erased the name on the whiteboard and then added hers. “I’m Dolly, and before you ask, yes, that is my real name. My mama wasn’t too happy with me after twenty hours of labor, I guess, so that’s what she stuck me with.”
She turned around and set a laptop on a rolling cart. “How are you feeling, Miss Ali?”
“Okay.”
“She’s wincing more often.”
Dolly looked over at Cope. “Are you Miss Ali’s husband? This chart says she’s single.” The nurse looked at me. “If he hasn’t put a ring on it yet, girlfriend, you get after him about it. Don’t let this one get away.”
“We’re just friends. Through work. Sort of,” I stammered.
“In that case, you best get busy. He’s a fine one. Who, I’m sorry to say…” she turned to Cope, “needs to step out for a few minutes.”
“You don’t have to stay,” I said when he stood to leave. “I’ll be fine until Desi gets here.”
He looked at me and then at the nurse before walking out.
“Damn,” Dolly said once he’d left. “That man gets my blood pressure goin’.”
He was hot. I’d give her that.
Dolly took my temperature and my blood pressure. “What’s your pain level, Miss Ali.”
“Please call me Ali, and it’s a seven.”
“Don’t let it get above a five.” She handed me what looked like a call button. “Press this whenever you feel it creeping up. It’s important to stay ahead of it.”
“What will happen? Will you bring me more?”
“Press it, sweet thing.”
I did and nothing happened. Or maybe something did.
“You can control the delivery of your medicine yourself, to a certain extent. It’ll only let you have so much. If it beeps, it means you’ve reached your limit. Just call me if that happens, and I’ll have the doc up your dosage.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“I would be too if I had such a nice-lookin’ man sittin’ at my bedside.” She patted my hand. “You need anything, hit this button.” She pointed to a large box that hung on the bed rail. “You can have clear liquids tonight. We’ll see about solid food in the morning.”
The thought of food made my stomach turn. I’d be in no hurry for liquids or solids.
Cope came back in and sat down. Before I could say anything, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”
Eight
Cope
Ali looked up at me with those giant blue eyes I could get lost in, and it was all I could do not to lay the world at her feet. The thing about her that made me want to do so even more, is that she wouldn’t ask for it. Not ever.
“What?” she asked.
“I was thinking about our bet. You said that, if you won, I’d have to give you an exclusive about the trial. Daily updates.”
“But I didn’t win. You did.”
“The point is, you can still write about the trial.”
Her eyes scrunched. “How am I going to do that?”
“I’ll give you the exclusive, your own personal daily press conference.”
She tried to fold her arms in front of her but then dropped them at her sides. “Why?”
“Because you’ve had a string of bad luck, and I—”
“What happened to you not being able to talk about the trial, especially to me?”
“I’d be an anonymous source.”
More eye scrunching.
“Stop doing that with your eyes,” I told her.
“Tell me why.”
“I think this could benefit us both.”
She turned her head and looked in the direction of the window. It was dark, but there were plenty of lights from the city reflected in it. “I won’t report anything that isn’t the truth.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to.”
“What’s in it for you, Cope? You said it could benefit us both.”
“If there’s another false report, there would be a place to counter it.”
“What do I have to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“There has to be more to it than me writing a story.”
I got up, walked over to the window, and looked down at the lights of the city. I stood there long enough that I wondered if maybe Ali had gone to sleep, but when I turned around, her head was on the pillow and her eyes were open—studying me.
“Get on the bike.”
She turned away, shaking her head. “Be serious.”
“I am.”
The door opened, and a tall brunette flew in and rushed over to the bed. “Oh my God, Al. Jesus. Can I touch you?” The woman held her hands just above Ali.
“Just be gentle,” I said from my perch near the window.
“Cope, right? Give me a minute to give this girl some love, and then I’ll get to you.”
I smiled and watched her lean over and kiss Ali’s forehead.
“You didn’t need to come. I’m fine.”
The woman shook her head at Ali and walked over to me, her hand outstretched. “Desi Whitman.”
“Sumner Copeland. Nice to meet you.”
She looked me up and down and back up again before spinning around to face Ali.
“You told me you didn’t know anyone in DC.”
“I don’t.”
Would it make me a pussy if I admitted that hurt my feelings?
“Well, he seems to know you.”
Desi turned back around and did another once over. I was starting to feel like a piece of meat.
“If I were you, my dear Ali, I’d want to get to know this one.”
“I’m sorry for all this trouble,” Ali murmured. “Neither of you have to stay. Seriously, I’m fine.”
“I’m actually going to take you up on that and give you two some time on your own.” It was all I could do not to kiss her goodbye. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“What about the trial?”
“Two-day continuance.”
“Why?”
“Because of the accident.”
She rolled her eyes. “This is so unnecessary.”
“Like I said, I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll get started on that project we were talking about.”
The door was almost closed behind me when I heard Ali call my name.
“What about your car?” she asked when I went back in.
I held up my keys. “Rental. Which reminds me.” I handed Desi the keys to Ali’s car along with the valet ticket.
“Cope?” Ali said again when I opened the door to leave for the second time.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for staying with me today.”
I could tell myself that, like I’d told Ali, her reporting on Warrick’s trial would help us both. But would it? Whether I was feeding her information or not, I wouldn’t be able to control what she wrote. In the little time we’d spent together, my opinion was that Ali seemed intuitive enough to decipher the truth. I sensed that if she thought I was lying, she’d call me out on it, just like I would with her. The only difference was, she had a newspaper to do it in.
I checked the time while I waited for the elevator. Before I went home, I needed to swing by and see what I could get out of my car. It was also still early enough that I could have a conversation with Money about my plan to give the Express reporter an exc
lusive.
I’d have to spin it in such a way that he’d buy I intended it as a response to the leak from yesterday—rather than me helping a woman I found so attractive that she was becoming all I thought about.
When I pulled into the lot where the police had towed my car and saw the shape it was in, I felt nauseous. It was a miracle Ali was still alive. The airbags were probably what had saved her; if she were a larger person, her skull might’ve been crushed, judging by the way the roof of the car had buckled.
I gripped the steering wheel when the ramifications of that thought tore through me like a gale-force wind. If she were a larger person—like me—her skull might’ve been crushed. Jesus fucking Christ. Ali was driving my car. My car. The one I should’ve been driving.
She’d also said that the guy who “gave her the creeps,” was standing by my car.
Ali’s accident had been intentional, except I was supposed to be behind the wheel. That meant someone had figured out my carefully crafted plan and was attempting to stop me before I could execute it. Given there was one person the plan was intended to take down, I now knew that the hook I’d baited caught the fish. I just had to pay close attention to what he did next.
I pulled out my cell phone and called my boss. Money answered on the first ring.
“Cope?”
“Hello, sir. I’m sure by now you’ve heard about the accident this morning, involving an Express reporter who was driving my car.”
“I have.”
“The reason for my call is to let you know I’ll be taking a leave of absence from all other cases on my roster. I will, however, still continue to oversee Warrick’s trial.”
He cleared his throat. “Why don’t you come into the office tomorrow, and we’ll discuss this further?”
“I won’t be able to do that, sir.”
“Why not?”
“Because I believe the accident that almost killed Ali Graham was intended for me. Until I figure out who was behind it, I’ll be operating independently.”
“That isn’t your decision to make, Cope.”
“No? The alternative, then, would be to fire me.”
“There’s no need to overreact. All I’m saying is I want you to come into the office so we can discuss this in person.”
“And all I’m saying is no.” I disconnected the call, turned off my cell, and tossed it on the passenger seat. I’d thrown down the gauntlet; now I’d sit back and watch who from the agency responded and how.
I stopped by the café before going up to my apartment. While I waited for my order, I told Lindsey about Ali’s accident. She came around and sat at one of the high tops, motioning for me to join her.
“Talk to me, Cope,” she said. “What’s with you and this woman? First you order enough food to feed her for a week, now you’re telling me she’s in the hospital and you’ve been there with her most of the day.”
I shrugged. “I thought you’d want to know.”
“That’s not my point. Two days ago, you didn’t know her. Now you’re her knight in shining armor. What’s that about?”
“She doesn’t know anyone in DC or even in the area.”
Lindsey sat back in the stool and folded her arms. “And this is all your responsibility because…”
“Because she is damn fine-lookin’,” said one of the cooks from the back.
“There is that,” Lindsey said, tapping her cheek with her finger. “But I think there’s more to it.”
I turned my head and looked out the window over at the building I now thought of as Ali’s. “If you figure out what, please tell me,” I murmured.
I took my food order upstairs and called Stella. Even if she was pissed at me, she’d still answer if only for an update on Ali.
When I finished telling her my plan, she was silent. “What’s up, Stell?”
“I would’ve given anything for someone to do this for me when I was first starting out.”
“But?”
“How much do you know about her? What’s her background report say?”
Everything appeared to be on the up-and-up. Both her parents had died within a year of each other when she was a teenager. There was a settlement involved in her father’s death, which she had used to attend Northwestern University, where she earned a master’s degree in journalism.
“Doesn’t it strike you as odd that the Express would’ve assigned a brand new reporter to the Warrick trial?”
It hadn’t at all, actually. Most espionage cases, particularly when someone from inside the CIA was on trial, were settled without fanfare. Details of the outcome were sealed up tight, leaving nothing for anyone to report. “It surprised me more that you were there,” I told her. “Why are you covering it?”
“Because I’m fucking good at what I do, Cope, and if you think for one second I don’t know there’s more to what’s happening with Warrick than meets the eye, then you should consider resigning from your job.”
“Maybe the higher-ups at the Express aren’t as good as you are.”
“No need to blow smoke up my ass. All I’m saying is everything with Ali doesn’t quite add up for me. If you aren’t feeling the same way, maybe you better give it some thought.”
I had one more person to contact before I called it a night. Considering the man I was trying to reach was in an earlier time zone, I didn’t bother to check the time.
“Hey, Decker,” I said when he answered.
“Cope, I hope you’re going to tell me there’s been some movement.”
“There was an accident earlier today. Someone driving my car was almost killed.”
“I’d say that was movement. He’s getting nervous, Cope. Nervous means sloppy.”
“It can also mean deadly. We need more bubble wrap around Irish.”
“I’ll take care of it. What about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You were almost killed this morning, Cope. What’s the condition of the person who was driving your car.”
“Amazingly, she only broke her arm and bruised some ribs.”
“She?”
“Long story, but a reporter covering Warrick’s trial.”
“Think she’s in any kind of danger? Or are you thinking wrong place, wrong time?”
“Wrong place, wrong time.”
“Roger that. Give me a few minutes to add to the crew, and I’ll get back to you.”
Decker Ashford was one of the founding partners in a private covert ops firm called the Invincible Intelligence and Security Group. The other partners were former MI6 agents, who I’d worked many ops with over the years. They’d also added former agents, some of whom I’d handled, to their roster of contractors.
While Decker had always maintained contractor status with the CIA, he and I had worked several missions together.
It was on one of those ops that he poked his nose into what Irish and I were doing. I had two choices: blow the whole mission up, or bring Decker into the fold. I chose the latter.
In the same way Irish trusted me, I trusted Decker, and by association, the rest of the Invincibles team. That included Hammer. As far as the CIA was concerned, he was acting as a trial consultant. What he was really doing was watching my back as well as Warrick’s.
Another of Decker’s team, Garrett “Rage” Williams, was currently undercover as Irish’s cellmate, and by tomorrow morning, I knew Decker would have two more men assigned, who would stay in lockup, protecting Warrick as long as he was there. Additionally, I knew he’d send at least two my way.
Fifteen minutes later, Decker called back. “I’m sending Ritter Johnson and Roscoe Wheaton in. They’ll report to you in the morning. Hammer and Rage will keep their eyes and ears open as will the new team members. If any of them feels like you or they need more support, they’ll ask for it.”
“Appreciate this, Deck.” Both Ritter “Rock” Johnson and Roscoe “Buck” Wheaton had once been with the agency but now worked for the Invincibles, just like Hammer an
d Rage did.
“By the way, I’ve got reports headed your way. Anyone other than the names you’ve already given me that you want me to run?”
Decker Ashford could find anything on anybody. No matter how good their cover, he was capable of going deeper than any other organization, and that included the CIA, the NSA, SIS, and Russian intelligence.
Ali Graham. Her name was on the tip of my tongue. Especially after Stella’s warning. I hung up without saying it, though.
My alarm went off two hours after I went to sleep, but instead of hitting the snooze button, I got up. After a cup of triple-shot espresso, I climbed on the exercise bike that sat in the front of my apartment and loaded up a workout.
Most days, I did the interactive option, but today I just went with one that was pre-programmed. From where I was on mine, I could see the one sitting, unused, in Ali’s apartment. I couldn’t explain why I was so obsessed with her getting on it. I guess I wanted to see her conquer her fear of heights and enjoy the space in the way it was designed to be lived in.
Just as I finished, a light in her place came on. Seconds later, Desi walked over to the window and waved. I wiped the sweat from my face with a towel and waved back. She put her hand to her ear, mimicking a phone, and I nodded and went in search of mine. When I found it, it was vibrating with her call.
“You’re up early,” I said, remembering she was from the West Coast.
“Ali had a bad night—”
“What happened?”
“She couldn’t sleep, so I stayed with her. I got back here a few minutes ago.”
“How was she doing when you left?”
“The resident on night duty finally told her that if she didn’t start using the pain-med delivery, he was going to have it given to her.”
“Why wasn’t she using it?”
“You know Ali.” She paused. “Actually, you don’t, do you? She can be…stubborn.”
“She can’t heal if she doesn’t sleep.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you so vested in her recovery? Not just her recovery. In Ali?”
That was the million-dollar question everyone kept asking.
Handled: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World) Page 5