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Authors: Nancy Ann Healy

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BOOK: Intersection
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Alex rolled over and out of the bed leaving the tall redhead entwined in the sheets. She walked slowly to the large chair in the corner of the room to gather her clothes. The redhead watched the senior agent as she made her way across the room. Alex was an amazing specimen. She was tall and muscular but still feminine in a way that was almost indescribable. Her skin was neither olive nor fair and her long black hair seemed to cascade perfectly over her shoulders when she allowed it to fall freely. “Where are you going?”

Alex stepped into her pants and put her arms through her white blouse. She turned to face the woman in the bed, buttoning her shirt at the same time. “Assignment.”

“Just….assignment? What kind of assignment?” The woman asked.

Alex kept her eyes on the buttons of her blouse. “Just assignment, Brackett.”

“Claire….how about Claire?”

Alex looked up at the younger woman in the bed. “I’m not sure we’re ready for THAT,” she teased.

“Well, why don’t you delay your flight to wherever you are headed and come get better acquainted?” The redhead patted the bed. “Unless, of course, you have a
better
offer?”

Alex laughed as she fastened the holster for her sidearm and reached for her blazer. “Oh, I don’t think there’s much danger of that where I am headed.”

“When are you going to be back?”

Alex shrugged, “no idea.”

“Call me.”

Alex pursed her lips. “Yeah….listen, Brackett….you know…. I’m not really…”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” the redhead climbed from the bed and stood in front of the agent. “I didn’t ask for a ring, just a phone call.”

Alex laughed. “If you talk to Fallon he’ll tell you it’s the same thing.” She kissed the redhead and smiled. “I gotta’ go.” With that the agent headed for the door.

“Are you kidding me? Chris… this is not…..No… I do understand…I don’t want some agent hanging around here… around Dylan…..What? Don’t tell me that you….. Unbelievable, Christopher….fine….yes…. yes… I do hear you...I said fine… No, Chris, fine actually means fine. I should know, I do teach English….When?....Great…..yep….. Yeah… Saturday…..okay… ….I will….you too,” Cassidy hung up the phone with a sigh.

“What was that all about?” Rose McCollum asked her daughter.

“Oh, Chris is worried, you know him. Some FBI woman is coming here tomorrow… to watch over us, I guess.”

“Cassidy, I know things are not exactly, well, happy between you two, but I’m sure it is to protect you and Dylan,” the woman’s mother offered.

Cassidy walked to the kitchen island and opened a bottle of wine. “I’m sure that’s true, Mom, but I hate this. I want my own life.”

“Well, you married a politician.”

Cassidy poured two glasses and handed her mother, who was seated on a bar stool, one of them. “Yes, and I divorced that politician.”

Her mother took a sip of her wine and set the glass down slowly, “Mhmmm…but the public did not divorce YOU.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Cassidy said as she took a rather large sip from her glass.

“Mommy….”

Cassidy turned to see a small toe headed boy looking up at her and rubbing his eyes. She squatted down to meet his gaze and brushed his bangs out of his face, “What is it sweetheart? Did you have a bad dream?” He nodded his head and kept rubbing his eyes. A floppy stuffed rabbit lay tucked under his left arm, its ears drooping toward the ground. Rose smiled as she watched her daughter pick up the boy who willingly wrapped his legs around her waist and his right arm around her neck. “Do you want to sleep in my room tonight, buddy?” Cassidy asked. He nodded and put his head on her shoulder falling asleep again.

“Still having nightmares?” Rose asked.

Cassidy sighed. “Not as much. He’s over tired. I’m going to go put him down. Mom, are you staying?”

“No,” Rose answered taking one last sip from her glass and leaving it half full. “I’ll clean this up and show myself out.”

“So much for a relaxing evening with a glass of wine, huh?” Cassidy laughed.

Rose smiled. “Good night, Cassie.”

“Night Mom…I probably should get some rest anyway. Company tomorrow, you know!”

“Cassie,” her mother cautioned. “Play nice with the FBI,” she laughed.

“Yeah… I love being told what to do. Can you pick Dylan up tomorrow? Maybe bring him home around dinner, just let me get….”

“Of course,” Rose stopped her daughter’s thought. “Get some rest,” she advised watching her daughter walk away. “I hope this FBI woman does too. God knows she’ll need it,” she mumbled as she set about cleaning the kitchen.

“I heard that,” Cassidy called back.

“How does she do that?”

“That too….Night mom.”

“I hate planes,” Alex mumbled as she hurled her baggage into the trunk of her rental car. She cracked her neck and climbed into theToyota Corolla, stretching her long legs as best she could. She reached into her briefcase and pulled out her GPS and typed in the address. “Cherry Circle? This oughta’ be GREAT.” The ride to New Rochelle was irritating the agent. Traffic was slow and Alex liked to travel fast. She fiddled with the radio, the windshield wipers, the defroster, the overhead lights, anything to break up the monotony of sitting in stand still traffic. A short distance away her irritation was shared by her soon to be host.

“This is ridiculous,” Cassidy griped at she picked up a toy truck and put it in the large wooden toy box that sat behind the living room couch. “Ouch!” She cried stepping on a Buzz Light Year action figure. “Ohhhh…. FBI and a six year old … yeah…. This should be FABULOUS.”

Alex took a right onto Cherry Circle and was met with the sight of what she considered mini-mansions. “What the? Big Apple my ass…. 1215…”

The GPS spoke “You are nearing your destination.”

“Holy crap.” Alex looked out the windshield as she slowly pulled into the driveway of 1215 Cherry Circle. It was a large
white colonial style home on the end of a cul-de-sac. “How many people live here?” She muttered to herself as she turned the key off in the ignition. She pulled a file from the passenger seat and opened it. Clipped to the top was a small picture. She slid it out from underneath the paperclip and studied it for a moment. The picture showed the congressman, on his hip sat a small boy with blonde hair smiling broadly. Next to him stood a shorter woman with blonde hair similar to the boy’s, a stark contrast to the congressman’s dark brown waves. She was attractive and there was a gentleness in her smile that made Alex sigh unknowingly. “Here we go, Cassidy O’Brien.”

The agent stepped out of the car, grabbed her briefcase and headed for the front door. She took a deep breath and let it out before letting her finger press the doorbell. As the door opened the agent caught sight of the short blonde woman who was immersed in the task of peeling a chunk of what appeared to be blue Play-doh from her bare foot. “Uhh….Dylan…” the woman grumbled. She picked her head up and her hair fell slightly in her eyes before she finally extended her right hand to greet the agent. Alex looked at the woman before her as she offered her own hand, suddenly finding it difficult to move. Cassidy O’Brien was beautiful. As their eyes met, the agent felt the breath leave her body. “Sorry, about that,” Cassidy said shaking her head as she crumpled the Play-doh in her left hand. “Kids….Please, come in.”

Alex smiled finding herself momentarily stunned by the woman’s piercing green eyes. Cassidy tilted her head slightly, looking at Alex curiously. The agent had a presence that Cassidy could not describe. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as the afternoon sun hit them. “Oh Lord, where are my manners! I’m Cassidy,” she said leading the agent through the door. “You’d think I’d be better at that after being married to a politician,” she mused.

Alex smiled at the earnest statement. “Alex, Alex Toles… nice to meet you Mrs. O’Brien,” she said as they entered the home.

“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?”

BOOK: Intersection
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