Cassandra eyed him and smirked, “Yeah, but it’s leaving you wondering about what other little juicy nuggets I was able to find on you. Amazing, no? How much info can be found on the internet? One click and someone’s whole life becomes an open book.”
Her comment, so similar to his own thoughts the night before, startled him. A simple coincidence? Still curious, he leaned down to look inside the car and found it empty, “Where’s Bruce Banner?”
“Who?” Cassandra asked automatically, and then burst out laughing when she clued in to his reference to the scientist who morphed into the Hulk. “Wow! Snarky in the morning, aren’t you? What? No coffee? Oh wait—that would be an energy drink, right?” Gesturing toward his house, she continued in a joking tone, “Do I need to get you one? Or maybe a few minutes in time-out will teach you to play nice.”
“Who are you, and where is that mad woman who accosted me yesterday?” Trevor retorted humorously, strangely relaxed in her presence, even with the big question of what she was doing at his doorstep still hanging in the air.
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, pointing to her chest with her thumb. “She is alive and kicking deep inside and can jump out at any moment.”
“I have no doubts about that.” The remark brought Trevor back to reality. She was the same woman from yesterday, so her being at his place was for more than just to shoot the breeze. He glanced at his watch. “I only have a few minutes, so give: what brings you here?”
Cassandra’s smile faded a bit as she asked, “Can we talk inside? The roads were fairly clear. I got here faster than I expected and I’ve been waiting a while for you to come out.” A blush flooded her cheeks. “Also, I really need to use the bathroom. Do you mind?”
Her request was so totally unexpected he could only stare at her. It was when Trevor noticed her fidget that an invisible hand slapped him upside the head, snapping him out of his stupor. Immediately he turned back toward the house and spoke over his shoulder, “Uh, yeah, sure. Follow me.”
Once inside, Trevor pointed in the direction of the bathroom. “It’s down the hall, to the left.”
“Thank you,” Cassandra breathed out, heading off down the hall. Trevor’s eyes were drawn to the curves outlined by her jeans and his blood heated as he appreciated the view. Once she was out of sight, he leaned against the back of the couch to wait for her while thoughts about her reason for being there careened around in his head.
Cassandra was about to burst. The coffee, drive, and long wait had taken their toll; she would have sworn that her brown eyes had turned green. Bauer’s townhouse was a surprise—not what she expected for a computer geek. It was tidy and tastefully decorated—contemporary furnishings with clean lines and masculine colors, definitely male territory. The forty-six-inch flat-screen TV, XBOX and PS3 gaming units, and two controllers for each on the coffee table were a clear sign that he enjoyed his gaming nights with company.
Cassandra walked past an open door and glanced in. It appeared to be a home office with its two desktop computers, each hooked to two flat-screen monitors and several docking stations. Again, she noticed the two of everything and her heart stuttered in her chest as she drew her conclusions from the clues around her. Roommate? Partner?
Reaching the bathroom, Cassandra tried to understand why the thought of a partner had given her pause. She was there purely on business—she needed his skills and resources; that was it. While she washed her hands, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and asserted to herself, All in the spirit of business.
Exiting the bathroom, she wished she had the time and opportunity to run upstairs and rummage through his things in search of more clues about the man behind the NSA employee—the man she would be counting on for the success of her mission.
A few hours earlier, Trevor had been sure he would never see Cassandra James again, yet there she was, using his bathroom as if they were longtime acquaintances. Trevor was stumped as the saying third time’s a charm popped up in his head. She had crossed his path two times before and, on each occasion, had brought myriad emotions to the surface.
First, the intercepted message that prompted him to get involved in the case and eventually caught by her; then her appearance at his place of work, knocking him off his feet and leaving him wondering and dreaming about her, wishing he had the chance to get to know her; and lastly, her showing up at his house sporting a fairly friendly attitude, behaving like the day before had never happened.
His spidey senses were going haywire. If that wasn’t a sign, he didn’t know what was. He was never one to put stock in coincidences—as far as he was concerned, everything happened for a reason. He considered the need to pay more attention to what was unfolding before him.
Hearing the bathroom door open and her footsteps on the hardwood floor down the hall, Trevor stilled his thoughts. He really wanted to hear her explanation as to why she was here in his house and not on a plane halfway to California. Watching her walking toward him, a stirring of desire filled him. Something far deeper than a simple infatuation pulled at him, tethered him.
During his teenage years, before moving to the States, Trevor had observed his parents together and many times compared them to his friends’ parents. His memories of that time surfaced images of a couple sure of themselves and their relationship. They had respected each other, always talked through their differences, and had truly enjoyed each other’s company.
More images of them flooded Trevor’s mind and he recalled the times he had caught his parents hugging, kissing, or just relaxing in each other’s arms. Whenever he had stumbled upon them, he would leave them alone as fast as he could—reacting like any teenager would, mumbling gross under his breath.
But now, as an adult, he clung to those memories like life preservers. Little buoys keeping the impressions of his parents’ lives afloat. They reassured him that he, too, could eventually have the same respect and love for and from a partner.
In that moment, something clicked in his mind. He knew that he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. Even though he believed it wasn’t fair to saddle a woman with his baggage, he needed to find out if there was something more between him and Cassandra James.
The strange familiarity, comfortable conversation even under stress, and the electricity in her touch were things he couldn’t forget or ignore. Could this have been what it was like for his parents when they met? A pang of sadness hit him; if his father was still around, he would have been on the phone with Trevor, giving him fatherly advice on how to handle the situation.
Kicking that thought to the side, he realized that Cassandra was standing beside him and had asked him a question. “I’m sorry, I missed what you said.”
“I asked if you were okay.” She must have seen a flash of sadness cloud his eyes.
“Yes. Just a memory.”
Cassandra appeared to be waiting for him to elaborate, but since he didn’t, she glanced around the room. “Can we sit and talk for a minute?”
With a sweep of his hand, Trevor gestured toward the couch. “Yes, sure. Please, have a seat.”
Cassandra took a seat on the chair instead of the couch he had indicated, reminding him of his own reaction the day before when she had implied where he should sit. Trevor sat on the arm of the chair across from her.
“Great set up,” she complimented, breaking the awkward silence.
He kept his eyes trained on her, afraid that anything he might say would make her bolt out the door like a deer.
When he just nodded at her, she continued, “Sorry to have dropped by without a warning. Please pass on my apologies to your roommate as well.”
A frown furrowed Trevor’s brow at the thought that she might have investigated him more thoroughly than he thought. “Roommate? What gave you that idea?
“Well, two controllers, two computers, two monitors…I just assumed.”
“Ah.” Trevor breathed a sigh of relief, realizing she didn’t really know much about his life, his secre
ts. “He’s not home. Nothing to apologize for.”
“Oh, a male roommate. Boyfriend?”
“Bloody hell! No!” He exclaimed. “What made you think that? Not that there’s anything wrong with that choice in general, but I can assure you I don’t bat for the other team.”
He looked so indignant, Cassandra almost laughed. She didn’t quite understand her own line of questioning when she was convinced she had no interest in him besides the fact that she needed his help. It wasn’t any of her business whether or not he had a roommate or life partner, but, for some reason, hearing he was single relieved her, which, in itself, weirded her out even more.
She needed a relationship as much as she needed a bullet to the head. She had lived with the repercussions of her mother’s passing and the destruction it had left in its wake, numbing her father to anything but his own pain and loss. Robert had ignored the fact that, while he had lost his wife, she had also lost her mother, her role model, the one who would have wiped her tears and who would have helped mold her into a woman. Instead, she had been left with blurred memories of her mother and a reeling father who couldn’t bear to look at her without hurt flooding his eyes.
She didn’t want to feel that way, ever, in her life. Maybe she should consider marrying Nathan after all. At least with him, she would know for sure her heart was safe from such destruction.
For the umpteenth time, Trevor wanted answers to why she was there, but she had distracted him with her curiosity about his sex life, and it nagged at him. Since she had left a door open for more personal questions, he couldn’t help but ask, “Okay, since you’ve butted into my personal life, what about you? Also, you never answered where your Mr. Nelson was.”
“He’s not ‘my’ Mr. Nelson, and he’s on his way back to Virginia as we speak,” she responded curtly.
“And?”
“And what? I told you yesterday. Nate is a good friend who was helping me out.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t say which team you were on.”
“Touché, Bauer.” Without giving him the answer he was expecting, her tone took on a business-like quality. “Okay…enough with the chit-chat. You mentioned you don’t have much time and I have a flight to catch in a few hours.”
Her mention of a flight brought home the fact that, regardless of what was happening at that moment, as surreal as it might be, she would still be disappearing from his life, eliminating his chance to examine more closely the strange pull between them. “So, cut to the chase. Why are you here?”
Cassandra studied him as she searched for the right words to convince him to help her. Just ask, Cassandra. All he can say is no. “I need you.”At his look of surprise she quickly added, “I mean, I don’t need you, need you, but I need your help.”
By the wicked grin that spread across his face, she could tell that he was enjoying how flustered she had become. “In what way do you need my help?”
Cassandra sighed and decided to go for it. If he was to help her, he’d have to know all the facts about the case. She wasn’t about to lead him on. She started by giving him some background. “The Bristol case was my first case as a lead since joining my father’s company.” She paused, gathering her thoughts and looking for words that would make him understand how important this case was to her. “You heard what was said about me screwing up this case. I still believe I tightened all the hatches on the servers, even though you managed to sneak in.” She narrowed her eyes at him, “I still want to know how, by the way. We’ll deal with that later.” Without allowing him to comment, she continued on her roll. “Anyway, something feels off. I can’t put my finger on it, but I need to find out. Even though Bristol’s CSO requested my removal from the case, I can’t leave it open, especially considering that if I do it won’t look good on my resume: ‘Botched first major project after quitting the CIA.’”
She laughed at her own joke. The more she spoke the more comfortable she became, so lost in her own reasoning that she didn’t notice the stare he was giving her from the other side of the room. “I believe the call intercept you originally got was made by the lead replacement on the case, Jeff Dillon. He would love nothing more than to see me thrown under the bus. I can’t just sit and let them blame me for Allison’s betrayal. Nobody could have foreseen that.”
“What the fuck do you mean, you’re off the case?” She focused her attention on him, realizing that he was fuming. “What the hell were you doing drilling me? You didn’t have a leg to stand on.”
Cassandra stiffened in response, but knew he had reason to be angry. She softened her tone to try and gain his understanding. “It’s imperative that I track down Allison and recover those files. I’m not a quitter, Bauer. I need to figure out what went south and fix it. I have to fix it. You are the only one I know who can help me get to the bottom of it.”
Trevor’s eyes narrowed and a sarcastic smile curved his lips. “You’re telling me that after you—without authority, I might add—raked me over the coals yesterday, let loose your boyfriend on me, caused me to fall behind in my work, and basically fucked up my whole day, you now want my help? You have got to be kidding me,” he chuckled. “Lady, you got balls.”
Cassandra jumped up and paced the room. Shit, I’m losing him. “You’re right, but you are not without blame, Bauer. I still don’t buy that you hacked the system solely to help your friend. I think you used government property and resources covertly to gather information for your personal advantage.”
With an exasperated look on his face, Trevor moved to stand, but Cassandra waved at him to sit back down. “Just hear me out, okay?”
He settled back and crossed his arms defensively. “I’m listening.”
Cassandra exhaled the breath she had been holding and continued. “The person who stole the copy of the formula, Allison Davis, has family—parents and a married sister. Co-workers said that she was basically a loner. I believe that at some point she’ll contact her family, if she hasn’t already. She’ll want to let them know she’s okay. Maybe explain why she disappeared. That’s where you come in.”
Trevor raised his brows and gave her a droll look. “What you’re saying is, you want me to set surveillance on her family, use government property and resources covertly to gather information for you, a civilian, for your personal advantage?”
A hot blush crept up her neck and Cassandra recognized the irony of the situation they were in. “Yes, I know I sound hypocritical. But as you can see, I’m desperate, or I wouldn’t have come to you. I could tap into my old CIA resources and get them to submit a request for a black op for this purpose, but whatever request is put through will eventually end up on one of your co-worker’s desks. I’d rather keep this restricted to as few people as possible. So, again, it comes back to you. Since you are already indirectly involved in the case, you’re the only person I know who can help me. If I can find out where Allison is, I can secure the copy before it goes to market.” Cassandra was apprehensive and worried he might still refuse her. She stood tall and confidently squared her shoulders. “Will you help?”
Trevor tried to put things into perspective. The tone of her voice didn’t match the shadow of uncertainty in her eyes. Her words, although strong and straight, hid a pleading tone that did not fit the person he was coming to know—she would never plead for anything. From the determined look on her face, he was fairly certain she didn’t even realize that she’d let some of her uncertainty bleed through.
He considered her request. It was a simple task, but it implied using some of the NSA’s resources to help her. He had to think hard about that. His decision could lead to professional ruin and possible prosecution. And, to top it off, he thought he might not be able to hide his covert op from George, who in turn would begin to ask questions—questions he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer.
Trevor played his own devil’s advocate and pondered on the positive aspects that could be taken into account. Cassandra had asked for his help to make things right, not for
corrupt reasons or personal gain. The use of NSA’s resources wouldn’t cause harm to the country or to innocent people. He would covertly be doing what he did daily on an official basis. It would not impact the focus of his work.
As he analyzed her plight, he reached the conclusion that she was right. Cassandra was between a rock and a hard place, and he was the only one who could pull her out.
Now, more than ever, he knew that their paths crossing was no coincidence. More importantly, if he did agree to help her, he would be in contact with her for a little bit longer—time enough to explore the feelings she ignited in him. Fate was stirring the pot with the two of them in it.
Cassandra’s heart raced and her mouth grew dry. She’d laid more on the line in the last two days than in her entire life. Up to this point she’d always done things on her own, fought her own battles as she’d learned to do from her father’s strict upbringing. By rights, she should have just gotten on that plane and washed her hands of the whole thing, but she couldn’t.
Studying the man before her, she realized she didn’t understand why she instinctively trusted him. Even with the strange connection she couldn’t quite explain between them and the irritating vibe that he was keeping something from her, she knew deep inside he was someone she could trust.
People say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Looking into the window of his eyes, she could only find a deep sense of honor, respect, and integrity shining through. It was a huge risk, but she was willing to take it. If he agreed to help her, she would still keep her guard up, her eyes trained on his every move. She wouldn’t be making any more mistakes. “Will you help me?”
Trevor looked Cassandra in the eye. “What’s in it for me? What do I get in return? After all, technically you are asking me to put my career on the line.”
Cassandra’s face froze and all expression wiped from it as she sat back in the chair considering his charged questions. She hadn’t expected that he would want some kind of payment in return for his service—silly of her. Maybe she hadn’t quite figured him out as well as she had imagined. She hadn’t pegged him as the mercenary type.
Countermeasure (Countermeasure Series) Page 13
