Rebecca grinned, taking my bag from me as she met me at the bottom of the plane, “I know Claire. But it has been more than a few months since we have been outside of the city.”
I groaned, “Yes it has. I blame the ongoing appropriations committee battles, the budget crisis and all the other nonsense that comes with this job.” I put my hand on her shoulder, “After the meeting this afternoon, we are all on vacation for the next week. “ I smiled, it was the yearly government hiatus and I would have a few days off to myself. No politics, no voters, no anything related to my job. I could sit in the vacation home our family kept in the hills of Malibu and work on the side projects I preferred over anything else.
Rebecca slid into the backseat of the black Mercedes sedan with me. She dug around in her small briefcase, pulling out a thick manila envelope that was sealed, “This came for you by courier at the house.” She handed it over to me, “It is the full unedited file on the candidate Janes has for us today.”
I nodded and tore open the top of the envelope, “Everything?”
“Everything. I was able to use the same back channels to contact Janes for his services. All of this is clean, no trail on who pulled it or who requested it.” Rebecca smiled at me, “Seven years and you still doubt me Claire?”
I laughed lightly, “Not for a minute, even when you left the NSA to become my silly little assistant.” I weighed the envelope in my hand, “But here is hoping this file holds your replacement Rebecca.”
Rebecca shrugged and focused on the emails on her phone, “I left the NSA because you pay better, and geez Claire, don’t sound so excited to be rid of me. I thought we liked each other?” She kept her smug grin, “We have just enough time to get to the house and you to get freshened up. Janes emailed me that he is about an hour out.”
I nodded, dumping out the thick file into my lap. The brown file folder stamped with red Classified on the front was thicker than I expected, but it gave me hope that Davey had found me what I was looking for. Find the one perfect candidate the other firms had failed to find or come close to supplying me.
Opening to the front page I glossed over the standard Secret Service bland photograph of the dark red haired woman, with a blank, emotionless face that was highlighted by a pair of bright, intense hazel eyes. These federal identification images were always terrible photographs, washed out and too close making the poor person look like a bloated fool. I flipped to the personnel page, and was immediately taken by the woman's first name. Caitriona Witmer. Quiet the unusual name and one that I couldn’t immediately place where its origin was from. Something I would have to look at later to ease my curiosity.
I read over the standard government file on Agent Caitriona Witmer, retired. Her scores at the agency's academy were the highest all across the board for her class and even in the last five years of graduating academy classes. She had rave reviews from instructors and her on the job training Agents. The woman was smart, both street wise and book wise.
I tucked the sheets to the side and went to the personal aspects of this Agent Witmer. Born and raised in Pittsburgh to a teacher mother and a steel worker father, Witmer excelled in school. Honors through high school and even honors at Purdue University where she studied Foreign Policy and minored in Biology. She was quickly recruited at a career fair by the Secret Service and was an immediate top choice, winning selection the day after her graduation ceremony.
The next section of the file was the highly classified extra parts I had Rebecca request for me. I wanted to know this Witmer outside of the government and the paper accolades of college. I had a full police record for her, with nothing more than a few speeding tickets as blemishes. Her personal life was also provided for me through the other channels Rebecca had, ones that I asked to be kept in the dark about.
Witmer was just a normal and boring woman. Going to work at the capital then going home. She had a handful of boyfriends that never amounted to more than a May to December romance. Nothing stood out until about two years ago when she suddenly retired from the Secret Service and moved out to San Diego, where she fell off the radar until Davey started throwing her work. Witmer seemed to have a fond appreciation for scotch, more than she did for people in the last few years, her bank records showing multiple purchases of the dark liquor at her local party store. Agent Witmer was a new drunk, but a careful drunk. Only sticking to her house when she decided to find her life at the bottom of a bottle.
I flipped through the last few pages, not finding the one thing I wanted.
“Rebecca, there seems to be something missing. It says Agent Witmer retired suddenly. I don’t see her Secret Service exit paperwork or anything on what could have been the cause of the retiring from her apparent dream job.”
Rebecca reached into her bag again, pulling out a thin sealed white envelope. She held it out to me, meeting my eyes with her pale blue ones, “I wanted to wait until you asked for it. This was difficult to get.” She paused, letting me know she had gone above and beyond my request. “This is the case file on the incident that forced Agent Witmer to retire, not by her wishes but the wishes of the agency.”
I furrowed my brow at her, “Have you read it?”
She shook her head, “No. My contact who got me this information explained a few things to me. This was a partial cover up of a huge cock up on Agent Witmer’s part and the individual she was assigned to protect at the time.” She took a breath, “Agent Witmer was on the detail for Ambassador Robert Williams.” Rebecca stared at me intensely. I nodded slowly in silent acknowledgment that I knew the weight of the name she had spoken.
Ambassador Robert Williams was the British Ambassador to the United States and had begun receiving threats from terrorist cells for his outspoken support for the U.S. efforts overseas. The Secret Service had increased protection tenfold, but it wasn’t enough. On a joint trip to Canada with the Secretary of State, Williams was ambushed.
I remembered clearly watching the news coverage from my new office as Senator for my home state of Connecticut. It had been a very bloody day in Montreal, one that many questioned how it could have happened with all the protection he had.
The incident had forever changed the relationship with the three friendly countries.
Silence filled the backseat of the car. I looked at the sealed white envelope. After a moment I tucked it in the back of the personnel file, “Well I think I will wait to look at this after I meet the woman. No need to pry open deep secrets unless it is necessary.”
Rebecca nodded in agreement. The whole incident had caused such fallout with the Federal protection agencies and how they handled their foreign assets. One we were all still recovering from, one that also gave me the perfect excuse to keep my own protection detail at bay. It also helped that I had taken the stance that my own family’s endless wealth would be better suited to find private protection than wasting tax payer’s dollars on inept agents. It was how I maintained ultimate privacy in my personal life and in the true work I was doing outside of my senate seat.
I handed the entire file back to Rebecca, turning my attention to the winding driveway to the Malibu vacation home I adored. The house was patterned after a Frank Lloyd Wright house and was tucked up into the rolling hills of the beach side town. Giving me the ocean, the beach and the privacy of the mountains all rolled into one. I couldn’t help but smile as I saw the sharp edges of the home and how it seemed to greet me warmly.
I stepped out of the car and took another deep breath, this time of the ocean air; it had been far too long since I was away from the stuffy bustle of the nation’s capital.
Rebecca pulled my bags from the trunk, “Claire, we have a half hour. I will get the bags to your room and set up the sitting room for the meeting. Do you need anything else?”
I shook my head, “I can manage from here, Rebecca. Remember you’re also on vacation.”
Rebecca smiled and ran into the house. I slowly followed, my mind falling into thinking about other things than wh
y I had to reach out to Davey in the first place. He was my last option, he should have been my first, but I didn’t want to call on a favor from him until it was unavoidable.
The moment I stepped into the shower, all thoughts washed away with the hot water. I stepped out and dressed in dark fitted jeans and a dark blue V-neck shirt, loving the feel of not having to wear polyester or stiff business suits. I put my hair up in a ponytail and left the makeup in the drawer until my return trip back to the city. Standing in my bedroom and letting myself relax in the glass encased box with just a large soft bed. Minimal is what I wanted in this room, no shelves no dressers and only a few photographs on the wall. This home was my sanctuary away from the row house I had filled up with my medical research books and the volumes of American history and law books.
I stare out onto the rolling hills and the trees that led down to the beach, letting even more of my cluttered mind free itself from the world of politics and foreign policy I crammed into it daily. I wanted a clear head when I met this Agent Witmer and a clearer one when I set upon my other projects in the coming days.
“Claire? Janes is here.” Rebecca’s soft voice made me turn to her as she stood in the doorway. She had yet to change and embrace the vacation like I had. I smiled and nodded, following her out to the other side of the house and to the sitting room.
The sitting room was also wall to wall glass windows, filling the immaculately decorated room with even more warmth than it already provided. I smiled when I spotted Davidek Janes sitting upright on the brown leather couch. I walked to the side of the couch, smiling, “Davidek.” I watched him blush at the use of his proper given name.
He stood up immediately, “Claire.” He had a sheepish grin on his face as I held out my arms to hug my childhood friend.
He was still embarrassed but accepted the hug, whispering our longtime greeting in Czech. I smiled wider as my eyes caught the rigid woman who had been seated next to Davidek. Her brow was furrowed in confusion as she tried not to stare at us. I took the opportunity to look at her and was taken aback by how beautiful the woman was.
Her red hair was darker than in the photograph, almost the color of a dark setting sun that was more a smoldering red than a deep auburn color, and pulled up into a tight bun. Her eyes were a beautiful hazel color that had bright flecks of green, gold and brown in the irises, and even though I could see the lingering haze of a hangover in the pupils, I could see that they probably lit up a room when given the correct circumstances and atmosphere. Her eyes also instantly made me feel safe when they looked in mine for a split second. Made me feel safe in the way that I knew she would do her best to protect the one she was assigned to. There was a strange feeling of overwhelming trust when I looked at the woman.
This woman also had a simply beauty about her that peaked my interest. I could see the faint mark of dimples at rest on her cheeks, flowing into an angled jaw that gave her a strange intense sex appeal. The woman was gorgeous and her Secret Service issued photograph had truly done her no justice. I smiled lightly when I noticed the price tag tucked in the sleeve of her brand new black pantsuit.
I leaned out of Davidek’s hug, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
Davidek tried to hide his grin, but would always fail in my presence, “Not a problem, Clair...Senator Avondale.” He cleared his throat. I smiled as he tried to keep a professional atmosphere that I had shattered the second I saw him. He turned to the woman sitting straight as a board next to him, “Senator, this is Caitriona Witmer. The agent I told you about the other day.”
The redhead stood up firmly and held out her hand, “Please call me Kit, ma'am.” She smiled and I could see the hint of the dimples forming, making me wonder what it looked like in all of its glory. I did take note of the lingering smell of scotch on her, as if it was stuck in her pores even though she had done her best to scrub it all out. I would definitely have to ask Davidek later about the sobriety of this woman.
I took her hand and appreciated the firm handshake she offered, “Kit, it’s nice to meet you.” I looked directly in her eyes and was even more impressed when she didn’t break eye contact with me until I did. I motioned to the couch, “Please sit. Would you like anything to drink? Water, coffee, tea, scotch?”
I watched as Kit’s eyes flickered at the mention of scotch. Davidek glanced at her with concern, “We will both have water.”
I motioned to Rebecca who had been standing off to the side; she nodded and left the room. Returning quickly with three waters and the personnel file I had read in the car. She handed me the thick file and I watched as Kit’s eyes latched onto it. Panic slipping across them as she graciously took the offered water.
Davidek held his glass nervously after taking a sip, “Kit is my best girl. I worked with her at the Secret Service and she has done exemplary work for me at the firm.”
I smirked at his salesman speech, “I know Davidek. I knew you would bring me the best when I asked for it, but I actually would like to speak to Ms. Witmer alone.” I met his eyes, he nodded in agreement. Davidek and I had always had a way of communicating in the simplest looks and words, developed from the time we were running around the expansive backyard of my parents Connecticut estate as seven year olds.
I waited until Rebecca escorted Davidek to the kitchen before I picked up the file. Watching once again as Kit’s eyes followed it. “Ms. Witmer, you obviously can tell that I may know more about you than you want by this file in my hands.”
Kit’s jaw clenched in answer, cluing me in that she had possibly developed a lack of patience and a quick temper over the years. “You are a Senator, Senator Avondale; I would expect you to have access to my files.”
The tone in her voice had an edge to it, held in by the restraint taught at the academy.
I opened the file, flipping through pages until I got to the white envelope of the Montreal incident. I pulled it out and set it on my lap, tossing the rest of the file on the rich mahogany table between us. “Ms. Witmer, you are the best. Of all the candidates I have searched out, not one has compared to the knowledge and experience you have. Your scores at the academy were outstanding and your Secret Service record is practically flawless.”
Kit’s jaw twitched harder.
I took a deep breath; I had known in the first few minutes of meeting this woman, she would be the perfect fit for what I needed. “Even though I can smell the scotch you seemed to have bathed in last night, I can see that you have the ability to discreetly follow through on the job I am searching someone to do.”
Kit looked away from me; it was obvious I was reading her better than she wished. “Senator, what exactly is this job you are hiring for?”
“I need a private protection for reasons that may be revealed in time. In a time that when I am certain I can trust you fully.” I fidgeted with the sealed envelope in my hands, “You will be hired under the guise that I am in need of a new personal assistant, that Rebecca, my current and trusted assistant is leaving to take over in an administration capacity at one of the medical research companies I help fund. You will take her place and follow me around as she would do on a normal day, but you will be my eyes and ears and my,” I paused looking for a different word other than the one I despised using; I grimaced when I couldn’t find a better one, “bodyguard.”
Kit ran her hands down her thighs in a nervous tick way, “You have the Secret Service to be your bodyguards and I am sure you can find a new assistant anywhere.” She was irritated, and wore it clearly on her face.
I nodded in agreement, “Of course I have those resources, but I need someone I trust or can be trusted in time. Davidek would not send me anything less.” I took a breath and set the white envelope down on the table between us, “The work I do in the medical world has brought strange attention. I have been receiving threats as of late at the genetic work my own research staff have been doing as well as the work I support in the senate. Death threats, corporate espionage and I can no longer trust a
nyone inside the government, because the threats are coming from them as well.”
I tapped the envelope on the table, “I am hiring you Ms. Witmer, and as a sign of my trust, I am giving this to you.”
Kit looked at the envelope, then back up at me confused, “This was my interview?”
“Yes, you won’t have to return the suit you are wearing. I will give you your first months’ paycheck in advance and a bonus to buy an appropriate wardrobe. “I stood up, enjoying how easily I was able to fluster the woman and how easily I could read her, “I wanted to meet you Ms. Witmer. I read you completely the moment I laid eyes on you. Call it a talent that I honed during my youth, my intuition tells me that you will do well at this job.” I reached for the call button on the phone next to the chair I had sat in, letting Rebecca know the meeting was over.
Kit stood up and I saw the conflict on her face. I knew she needed a job, a stable one that would pay the overdue bills on her small house in San Diego and bring her back into the world she truly had a talent for. I had her between a rock and a hard place where she really had no room to refuse me and my paychecks.
Redemptio Animae Page 2