by D. L. Line
“It’s different all right,” Jen agreed. Her thoughts drifted to the process of her own relocation from the same area of western Virginia, three months earlier. “I was fortunate enough to have a tour guide, so that helped a lot.”
“Yeah, that would help, but I’m managing pretty well on my own. You know, single girl, big city. It’s been great.”
Jen noticed the time. She had a department meeting to get to. “So is there anything else I can do for you? I kind of need to head out.”
“Well, there is one more thing. I got a call the other day from someone. They offered me, well, I guess they offered me a job. The details are sort of strange, so I need some advice. It seems almost too good to be true, but the pay is good, and I really need the money.”
Jen narrowed her eyes, remembering a similar shady job offer once in her past, and offered a warning. “Denny, be careful. I get that you need the money. I certainly did when I was in school, and the one offer I took wound up coming back to bite me in the ass in a really big way. I know the money is tempting, and I certainly don’t have the authority to tell you what to do, but just...well, just be careful. You know what they say about things that seem too good to be true.”
“Yeah, I get it. They usually are.” Denny’s face telegraphed her disappointment, but Jen sensed a trace of residual thought, as if she were still contemplating the idea.
“I’m serious here, Denny. I know you’re twenty-three years old and think that nothing’s going to happen. Hell, I was nineteen years old and I was positive that nothing would happen. So trust me when I tell you, if a crazy person shows up at your house ten years from now and threatens to blow your brains out, you’ll really wish you’d listened to me.”
“What?”
“When I was an undergrad at Michigan, I learned to seriously hack from this strange guy who owned a computer shop. He showed me some pretty tricky stuff for the time, and I eventually did a little of that hacking-for-cash thing. Well, this led to that, and the guy wound up in prison, thanks to me. He got out last year and decided that he was pissed and wanted me dead. He showed up at my house and would have killed me, but Terri shot and killed him.”
“Holy cow, you’re serious.”
“Yes, Denny, I’m very serious. But hey, look on the bright side. I got a really hot FBI agent out of the deal.” Grinning weakly, Jen sat back. “Not that it’s a great way to meet girls, but...”
“You mean your girlfriend is an FBI agent? Holy crap... I mean, wow, umm...” Denny sat and stared, apparently trying to come up with something else to say. “I mean, she is hot, and...”
“Yes, that she is. But that’s another discussion for another time. I really do need to leave for a meeting. I’ll check your plans when I get back, and e-mail you if you need to change anything. I’m sure they’re fine.” Jen got up from her chair, indicating that it was time for Denny to do the same.
“Okay, Dr. Rosenberg. Wow, that’s a lot to think about.”
Jen attempted to ease the tension in the office, “Trust me, Denny. If you need the cash, try bartending. The tips are good, and there is a greatly reduced risk of eventual bloody death. Besides, it’s easier to meet girls that way; trust me.”
Jen grabbed her briefcase and ushered Denny from the office. Closing the door behind her, Jen watched Denny, still shaking her head, as she headed off down the hallway. Jen grimaced to herself, remembering how very much like Denny she had once been—naïve, trusting, and called after her, “See you tomorrow.”
Denny didn’t even turn around. She just waved and turned to head down the steps. Jen followed soon after, inwardly hoping that her story had made the proper impact and that Denny would make the right decision. She was also well aware that Denny was one of that class of young people who tended to believe that they were bulletproof. Knowing that she’d done all that was possible for the time being, Jen hiked her briefcase higher on her shoulder and headed out the door for her meeting.
As she crossed the campus on the bright, early fall day, Jen felt buzzing in the pocket of her trousers, followed by the sound of the Mission: Impossible theme song. She smiled, knowing from the ring tone that Terri was the caller, and answered. “Hey, you. What’s up?”
“Hey, you too. Not a lot. I just wanted to check in and see how your day was going.”
“Great. I’m actually on my way to a meeting over at the faculty lunchroom. I was thinking about you earlier.”
“What was it this time? Was I blowing stuff up in the desert again?”
“Well, umm, yeah... kind of.”
“Oh, God, Jen. You have such an imagination.”
“That’s not a complaint I hear, is it, Agent McKinnon?”
Terri sighed heavily, her amusement replaced by something else. “No, it’s not. You know, I just worry that—”
“I know very well what you worry about,” Jen interrupted, “and we’ve had this conversation before. I am perfectly content with you, the real you. I just have a vivid imagination and there are no expectations on my part that you leave the FBI and become some kind of Siberian mercenary. I love you just the way you are, so you can really stop worrying any time now. Okay?”
“Okay, I believe you. It’s silly anyway. Never mind. Actually, I did call for a reason. Do you mind if Bobby comes over for dinner tonight? He’s been a little moody lately, so I asked him over to talk.”
“Is he all right?”
“Well, I think so, but this isn’t like him, so I thought I’d try to find out what’s going on. You know I can always bribe him to talk when there’s food involved.”
“Yes, I am well aware of the power of your culinary skills. Of course, baby, that’s fine. Do you need me to stop at the store on the way home?”
“I don’t think...oh, wait. If you could stop and get a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine for us, that would be great. There’s beer in the fridge for Bobby, and I already have the other stuff for dinner.”
“Check. Loaf of bread and a bottle of wine. You want red or white?”
“Sweetie, whatever you like. Either is fine.”
Jen checked her watch. “Okay, I’ll see what strikes me when I get to the store. I have to go... meeting, you know.”
“Oh, right. Go to your meeting and I’ll see you around five. I love you.”
Jen felt the flutter in her chest that she always did when she heard that last little phrase. “I love you too. See you later.”
Jen snapped her phone closed after Terri said good-bye, and headed into her meeting, hoping that it would be short and interesting enough to keep the Siberian mercenary images at bay. It never was, but she could still hope.
Chapter Three
Terri sat quietly at her new desk on the fourth floor of the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building. Twiddling a pen in her left hand, she looked over the paperwork for her last, recently-closed case. Making sure that all the I’s were dotted and the T’s were crossed, she signed the report, tucked it into its folder, and leaned back to stretch. That was done. Now what?
Terri looked across her desk, catching Bobby’s attention. He pointed at the folder containing the completed report. “What’s up? You done with that?”
“Yep. One more little old lady that won’t ever cheat at bingo again.” Terri used the now all-too-familiar sarcastic catch phrase, indicating her dismay at the constant stream of boring, dead assignments that she and Bobby had been forced to endure in the past several months. “Bobby, this sucks. Are we ever going to get a real case again?”
“How should I know, kiddo? I just do what they tell me to do and try to make the best of it. Hang in there.”
“Well, I’m getting sick of hanging in there all the time. These dead-end, nothing cases are going to be the death of both of us. Especially you.”
Bobby waved aside her concern. “It’s cool. I’ve had enough excitement. I’m actually kind of enjoying the peace and quiet.” He looked aside as if something on the wall was particularly interesting. Terri spotted the avoid
ance immediately.
“Hey, mister, I saw that. What the hell is going on with you? I’ve done everything, and that includes feeding you a couple of nights ago, and I get nothing. You’re pissed about this, and you’re not telling me something. What’s that all about?”
Bobby opened his mouth to answer, but never got a chance to get the words out, as Supervisor George McNally stepped off the elevator, gruff demeanor and steel-gray brush cut intact, and summoned his agents.
“McKinnon. Kraft. My office. Now.”
Terri rolled her eyes at McNally’s usual lack of manners, noting that Bobby did the same. She smirked at Bobby’s familiar reaction, taking some comfort in the fact that he shared her opinion regarding their boss’ predictable behavior. She picked up the folder that she’d been working on and allowed herself to be ushered into McNally’s office by Bobby. He closed the door behind them.
Without even looking up, McNally tossed a new folder on his desk.“Have a seat.”
Terri sat, crossed her legs, and laid the folder that she had been carrying across her lap. Bobby mirrored her actions, and sat back, waiting for McNally to continue.
“Are those reports complete?” McNally held out his hand to collect the reports. “Good... thank you. Now, I have something new for you.”
Terri sat forward, eager to get back to work on a case that might be just the least bit interesting. She noted that McNally exchanged a look with Bobby, but opted to allow it to go.
McNally slid the new folder across his desk, sat back, and pointed to it. “That is the preliminary report from the Centreville Police Department regarding a small warehouse company. Apparently, one of the secretaries in the company did a little whistle-blowing on her employers, alleging the misuse of federal postal channels.”
Terri’s mouth fell open in shock. “Mail fraud? Another case of mail fraud? You’ve got to be kidding.”
She cringed at the inappropriateness of her reaction, and braced for McNally’s response.
“Agent McKinnon, as you were,” McNally ordered through gritted teeth. “This is the case you need to work on, and there will be no further discussion.”
She looked to Bobby for support, but he avoided her glance, apparently finding the view out the window over McNally’s left shoulder more interesting. What was going on here? She attempted to collect herself enough to continue without further pissing off the boss. “But, sir—”
“No buts, Agent McKinnon. This is your assignment.” Terri stared at him, dumbstruck as McNally stared right back. This was usually the point in the conversation that McNally said thank you and expected his agents to leave, but he surprised Terri by doing something different. “Agent Kraft, please get started on this.” He slid the folder to Bobby, who picked it up and set it across his lap. “And would you please give Agent McKinnon and me a moment alone? Thank you.”
Bobby tucked the folder under his arm and got up to leave the office, avoiding the glare Terri was pointedly shooting at him. The door closed behind him, and Terri turned her attention to McNally, who was leaning back as far as his office chair would allow, cradling the back of his head with his hands, studying Terri intently.
“Agent McKinnon... Terri...” She started inwardly at McNally’s use of her first name. “We, that is to say, you have a problem. I just got the latest report regarding your fitness for duty from the head shrinkers upstairs, and you still haven’t been cleared to return to regular duty. That’s why I’ve had to give you and Agent Kraft all the shit cases.”
McNally’s words were like a bucket of ice water dumped on her anger. She looked up, struggling to collect herself, and tried to piece together a response. “But, sir, I don’t understand. I’ve gone to the appointments, talked about everything. I’m good to go here.”
“Well, the folks upstairs don’t share your opinion, and until something up there changes, there’s nothing I can do. I can only suggest that you make another appointment and just keep talking to them.” He sat forward, offering out his hands in a supplicating gesture. “I’m sorry, Terri, but my hands are tied. This is up to you to fix. The report says that you are still too great a risk to be in a hazardous situation. Until that report comes back squeaky clean, I can’t put you out there with a loaded weapon in your hands. I can’t be sure that you’ll use it if the situation requires it.”
Terri stared at him with absolutely no idea what to say next. She sat, noting inwardly that her anger was almost gone, replaced by a deep sadness that she was clueless how to deal with.
“Terri, you know that things haven’t been right since you shot that perp on the Rosenberg case. I was uncomfortable about it at the time, and things aren’t any better now. I know that the fact that he shot you first doesn’t make it any easier, but I let you go off cowboy-style on something that I was unsure of, and you almost got yourself and Agent Kraft killed. I will assume partial responsibility for the situation, but I can’t fix it. That’s up to you.”
Terri allowed McNally’s words to sink in. She couldn’t argue with him because she knew deep down that he was right. There was no way she would allow anyone in the office, especially McNally, to see her cry, but it took all the resolve she had to keep it from happening.. “Yes, sir. I understand. I’ll take care of that right away. Thank you.”
McNally allowed a small smile, breaking his granite façade. “Yes, Agent McKinnon, I know you will. Now, go catch me an evil stamp collector. Thank you.” He directed his attention to the screen of his computer, indicating to Terri that she could leave. She opened the door to his office and stepped back into the shared space of the Investigations Department, quietly pulling the door closed behind her.
Terri crossed the space to return to her desk; the desk that she now feared that she would be chained to forever, and waited for Bobby to look at her. He just kept studying the new case file, apparently unwilling to meet her insistent gaze. “Bobby, you knew about this, didn’t you?”
He closed the file on his desk, raising his head just enough to look her in the eye. “Yeah, Terri, I did.”
As the deep sadness settled in for a long stay, Terri felt the anger begin to bubble up again. “And you couldn’t be bothered to tell me, right?”
“Sweetie, no, it wasn’t like that at all. McNally wanted to see me on Monday, so that’s why I came in early. He gave me the lowdown and offered me a choice. He also told me not to say anything to you until he had a chance to talk to you about it. Don’t you think I would have told you otherwise?”
Bobby’s words went a long way toward calming her rage. “You know, I’m not sure what I think about anything right now. You’ll understand that I’m feeling a little cornered here.”
“Yeah, I get that. And I don’t blame you, but there was nothing I could do. Sweetie, I went to bat for you. I really did, but it’s not up to me or McNally. You need to get this straightened out with the witch doctors upstairs, or we’re going to be on the old-ladies-cheating-at-bingo circuit until we’re the old ladies cheating at bingo. I know you don’t want that and neither do I.”
“What do you mean? They’re just going to keep you chained here with me. That’s not terribly comforting.”
“Well, maybe you should take some comfort from that. They must think you’ll come around soon, or McNally wouldn’t have offered me a choice. He told me that I could stay on the shit jobs with you or else he was going to break us up. I didn’t want that, and I don’t think you do either, so I’ll wait for you as long as I have to.”
Terri’s anger was now fully gone, leaving nothing but sadness. “But, Bobby, what about your career? You just can’t sit here forever and wait for me.”
His disarming grin almost made her feel better. “Kiddo, I know you’re going to kick this thing in the ass, and I think it’s going to be soon. I’m here for you, just like I have been since day one. Anything you need, you know all you have to do is ask. So I think it’s time for you to screw on your best, what is it that Jen calls it? Your G-man mojo?” Terri nodded
as he continued, “Call those head shrinkers and go take care of this thing, okay?”
Terri finally allowed herself a small smile. Bobby really was a great friend, and she hoped that he was right this time. Her answer was to sit down at her desk, pick up the phone, dial the switchboard, and ask to be connected to the agent support department. Finally, they answered and scheduled the appointment for her. After she hung up the phone, she wrote the appointment time on her calendar and grabbed her wallet from her briefcase.
“Bobby, I’m going downstairs to get something to eat.” She pointed to the file on his desk. “Can that wait for a little while?”
“Sure. Nothing earth-shattering here. Do you want some company?”
“Thank you, Bobby, but no. I need a little time to process this. I’d be lousy company right now. Okay?”
“Okay, Kiddo. But remember, anything you need.”
“Yeah, I get it.” Terri got up from her desk and left the office. She walked down the hall to the elevator, her throat tightening with each step. She pushed the button, waited a few seconds for the doors to open, and stepped inside. The doors closed and Terri was finally alone, and once the tears started, she wasn’t sure that she could stop them any time soon.
Chapter Four
Terri sat quietly on a black vinyl-covered sofa leafing through a magazine. Page after page of nothing interesting, but it was better than twiddling her thumbs. The receptionist, a completely unremarkable woman of late middle age, worked diligently at the computer on her desk. She would occasionally glance over and smile, but for the most part, left Terri alone to idly flip pages and not read the magazine. She stopped flipping to look at a picture.
Oh my God, these two just don’t stop. Maybe I could pretend to be a Cambodian baby and then I wouldn’t be sitting here now. Yeah, Terri, that’s the attitude. You want your life back and now you’re worrying about Brad and Angelina. Get a grip.
Terri tossed the magazine on the table with a small huff of frustration. The receptionist looked up and smiled again, and Terri did her best not to stick out her tongue.