by David Carner
“Like your bad back!?!” Jessica could barely breathe she was laughing so hard.
“Oh grow up,” Trip admonished. “She wants to play laser tag.” Jessica raised her eyebrows in response and her laughter intensified.
“Seriously, she wants to play laser tag. No one will play with her. I kinda feel sorry for her,” Trip said. Trip’s expression softened.
“You have been saying for years there’s nothing between you two,” Jessica began. “I don’t believe you. I’ve known you too long Trip, if you don’t want to do something, you don’t. You like her!”
“That’s not the issue,” Trip said softly, yet forcefully. “I found out something on Bruce.” Trip was attempting to change the subject. “Bruce’s file is not with the other personnel files. Thelma said she can get ahold of it tonight or tomorrow after hours. Something’s fishy.”
Jessica had calmed down from her laughing. “Trip, we suspected during the last case with the first lady there was someone in the first lady’s pocket high up in the FBI.” Trip nodded. “Were we off; could someone be in Archibald’s pocket?” Trip looked at Jessica, shaking his head. Jessica was trying to figure out what she had said wrong. Trip was getting a scowl across his face again. He realized what he was doing.
“I’m sorry, Jessica. It’s not you. It’s that Archibald Staples. We need to put him down the way you put down a rabid dog! That man has had his hands in more pies . . .” Trip trailed off. He was furious. Trip wanted to take down Archibald. Not because it would be a big bust, not because it could be a possible career advancement, but simply because Trip was sure Archibald was involved with anything and everything illegal.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Trip said, snapping out of his thoughts. “We’re going to reopen the case on Archibald very quietly. We’re going to look into Bruce, very quietly. First though, we have to find the Senator. We lose him; we may all lose our jobs.”
“John seems to think that they all are tied together,” Jessica said quietly. “He’s going to talk to his in-laws about Archibald. John seems to think they might know something that would give us a lead.”
Trip nodded. “I know,” he said.
Jessica looked at the floor and asked the question that had been in her mind ever since John came back into her life. “Trip, what do we do if he finds out?” Trip looked at Jessica sharply.
“About Sam?” Trip asked quietly. Jessica nodded, never lifting her eyes from the floor. She was near tears. She knew if she looked at Trip that she would start to cry. “Well, we might all lose our jobs, and we might lose our friend, but we did what we thought was right at the time. We didn’t know Jessica. I think we have to tell him soon. I think he’d rather hear it from us than figure it out on his own.”
“What if he’s already figured it out?” As soon as the question left Jessica lips, tears began to lightly fall from her face. Jessica worried deep down the reason John had Jessica checking Bruce’s IT man’s work, and Bruce’s guy checking Chet was because John had figured it out. It was either that, or he suspected one of them of some other horrible crime. John did everything for a reason.
She looked up at Trip. Trip’s eyes were moist. He set his jaw, but couldn’t stop his tears. Jessica got up and left, leaving Trip by himself.
Trip leaned back in his chair and turned it toward the window. He looked in the direction of where John and Sam’s old apartment was. He couldn’t see it even if it was still standing, but he could see the fire that roared that night in his mind’s eye. Trip spoke softly, “What if he has?”
Chapter 35
Jessica hurried down the hallway to the elevator. She took the elevator to the roof. She walked out and stared out over the city. Tears were now flowing freely from her face. All this time John thought that Jessica had been doing things for him. The truth was Jessica had been protecting John because it was her fault Sam was dead and John was alone.
Jessica stomped her foot. It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t kill Sam, but she hadn’t stopped the killer. Why she and Trip hadn’t taken Sam’s concern more seriously . . . Jessica knew she had to stop asking why. What had happened had happened. What Jessica needed to do was catch the scumbag who had killed her. She shook her head. What she had to do was find the Senator. He was still alive, and Sam wasn’t.
Jessica looked over the city and couldn’t help but smile. John would die if he knew how many times Sam had met Jessica up here just to talk, and most of the time it was about him. It was here that Sam had told Jessica that she thought John had a crush on Jessica. She closed her eyes and could almost hear and see her friend.
“You know he really likes you,” she heard Sam say. Jessica opened her eyes and there stood Sam. Jessica shut them for a second, and reopened them. Sam waved at her.
“Why do the two of you keep doing that?” Sam asked.
“The two of who?” Jessica retorted. Sam sighed.
“Really? We’re gonna do this now? You’re the one seeing people and we’re gonna have this discussion?” Sam was smiling broadly. Jessica pinched herself and looked at Sam. Sam had her fingers in her ears, wagging them, and was sticking her tongue out. Jessica laughed at loud. Ok, John had said he saw Sam during the last case, so given the amount of stress she was under it was perfectly reasonable why she was “seeing” Sam.
“Did you work out yet why you’re seeing me?” Sam asked. Jessica started to answer but Sam held up her hand. “Could it be, you feel it’s your fault I’m dead and now you’re feeling really guilty that your falling for my widowed husband?”
“First off, you gave me permission,” Jessica began.
“Hold it, Lambada girl,” Jessica smiled at the reference to the dance she learned. Sam would always accuse Jessica of learning it just to steal away John. “I never gave you permission. I just told you if something ever happened to me he would make a move on you.”
“You act like he just buried you yesterday and was at my door that night!” Jessica retorted.
“So what are you saying?!” Sam replied getting very close to Jessica’s face.
Jessica replied very loudly, “It’s been,” she paused. She continued very softly, “three years.” Sam held her hand to her ear.
“What was that sweetie, I couldn’t hear you?” Sam asked with a smile on her face.
Jessica smiled. “It’s been three years.” Sam crossed her arms, and still smiling, walked away. She stopped near the edge and looked out over the city. Sam turned back toward Jessica.
“You two better slow down or you’ll burn up in the flames of passion,” Sam said.
“Ok, ok,” Jessica replied. “I get it. You’re dead.” Sam nodded. “And not coming back.”
“Doesn’t look that way,” Sam replied.
“But, Sam . . . “ Jessica began. Sam walked back toward Jessica.
“You know you have accused John of not living, but it seems to me you’ve not done a whole lot of living yourself. Now admittedly you didn’t make the spectacle of yourself he did, but you, Chet, and Trip did all you could do to find my killer. You need to have a life. He’s not a bad guy . . . if I do say so myself.” Sam grinned broadly at the end of the statement. “It’s ok,” Sam said quietly. “There’s no one I’d rather him be with than you.”
Jessica looked down, smiling. When she looked up with tears in her eyes, Sam was gone. Jessica spoke out loud, loudly.
“I know it was all in my head, but just in case it wasn’t . . . I miss you!” Jessica turned to go. As she reached the door, she swore she heard, “I miss you too.”
Chapter 36
Luke walked out of the FBI building. He was surprised at how easily he was released. He was sure he would be kept for a couple of days. It made him wonder if they hadn’t let him go just so they could follow him.
As he was leaving, he noticed reporters flocking to the building. He thought they were all coming for him, but they all rushed passed him. Luke stopped one of the reporters to find out what was going on.
“You haven’t heard?” The reporter asked. “The first lady has been released. It was decided there wasn’t enough evidence to hold her on. It also looks like Jason Sparks is going to be taken to a psychiatric hospital for evaluation. There wasn’t any proof that he killed any of the people he was suspected of killing.”
The reporter took off and Luke smiled. He headed back toward the building so he could talk to Lisa. As he reached the reporters, Tom, one of the Secret Service agents he had worked with seemed to appear out of nowhere. He grabbed Luke by the arm and tried to drag him away.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Luke asked.
“I’m trying to save you from doing something stupid, but I’m honestly afraid I’m too late,” Tom said.
“What are you saying?” Luke asked.
“Luke,” Tom began. “Man, you’re my friend, but come on. We all know how you have a thing for her. I’m not saying you did anything to the Senator, but you have to admit you’re one serious suspect. You need to stay away from her. Do you think Archibald is going to let you cozy up to her?”
Luke looked like he had been slapped in the face with that last question.
“Spit it out Tom, don’t dance around it,” Luke said. He was angry and Tom knew what he was about to say was only going to make things worse.
“Luke, you’re a Secret Service agent. You’re supposed to be one of the good guys, not only that; in his eyes you’re just a guy. You’re not a powerful Senator or anything like that. You don’t have the social standing to be in her class. You know and I know you don’t have a prayer.”
“What if I was a national hero?” Luke asked coyly. Tom stopped dead in his tracks. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them he looked Luke right in the eyes.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Tom said, shaking his head. “If, and I stress, IF, you know something about the Senator you need to let the right people know.” Luke was looking over Tom’s shoulder at the First Lady who had just come out of the FBI office. Tom stepped into Luke’s view. Anger spread over Luke’s face. Tom was shaking his head. “Luke, you’re playing a dangerous game. Do you think for a minute if I can figure this out that they can’t figure this out!?!” Tom jerked his thumb toward the FBI building with that last statement. Luke set his jaw and looked at Tom. Luke stared at Tom for a minute, shook his head, pulled out his cell phone, put it under the tire of his car, got in and took off, breaking the cell phone. Tom watched him go, shaking his head. He wondered if he would ever see Luke as a free man again.
Chapter 37
Luke drove his car toward Washington, down the New Jersey turnpike. He figured his car was being tracked since the FBI had brought it back from Washington. As he approached Washington, he headed toward Independence Ave, and parked there. He headed towards the Smithsonian Metro station and got on. Luke took the Orange Metro towards Vienna. There he switched over to the Red line and rode it toward Silver Springs. When he arrived at Union Station, Luke got off, and looked around to see if he was being followed. He didn’t see anyone, but Luke suspected his clothes had been tagged somehow.
Luke went into different stores in the mall and bought an assortment of clothes. He went into the men’s room and found an empty stall. Luke changed clothes and threw the ones he wore out of the FBI building into the trash. He headed out of the mall to find the escape vehicle that Archibald had left him. He went to the spot in the parking lot he was told the vehicle would be in and saw a black SUV. Luke chuckled; Archibald went all out. A young man, he looked about nineteen or twenty, pulled into the spot beside where the SUV was parked. Luke was smiling at what he was thinking.
“Hey,” Luke yelled at the young man. “Does your car run ok?”
“Yeah,” the guy replied. “It doesn’t take much gas or oil.”
“Wanna trade?” Luke asked. The young man smiled and five minutes later, Luke pulled out in the young man’s 1978 Nova. Luke headed toward Virginia down I-395 South. He picked up I-495 East and circled Washington. He picked up MD-295 North and headed toward Baltimore. Luke knew he had just traveled the most out-of-the-way loop possible. He had been looking for a tail, and hadn’t found it. Luke smiled to himself. He was sure the surveillance had been hanging back, relying on the bugs he thought were planted on him and his vehicle. He didn’t trust Archibald either. Tom may have been right, Luke didn’t belong in Staples’ circle, and Archibald might have him eliminated. This had all started out with Luke trying to impress Lisa, or Veronica, or whatever she was calling herself today. Luke knew he had to take care of himself. As the car sped toward Baltimore Luke began to make new plans.
Chapter 38
Two FBI agents, Jeff and Steve, sat in a van in the vicinity of Union Station. They had been conducting surveillance on Luke ever since he left New York. It had been a long day, but they thought it was an easy case, especially since they were supposed to stay out of sight and follow the signals that were being emitted.
The agents had noticed the car tracker hadn’t moved from near the Smithsonian for nearly an hour. They switched over to tracking Luke by the small tracer they had planted in his clothes. The signal led them to Union Station and they continued to track him from afar.
After about an hour of the tracker not moving, one of the agents, Jeff, decided to see what was going on. He followed the signal, with a handheld device, into the men’s room and found the clothes with the transmitter on it in the trash can. He came back out and told his partner what had happened. The agents fought over who was going to call in and tell “The Hammer” that they had lost Luke.
The two of them argued for fifteen minutes about who would phone this in. They finally decided a fair way to decide who would make the call. Jeff lost at Rock, Paper, Scissors and had to phone Jessica. He placed the call.
“Agent Hammerstein,” Jeff began. “We lost him.” Jeff held the phone away from his ear. Jessica was yelling, loudly! He brought the phone back to his ear and listened to the instructions he was given and disconnected the call. Steve looked at Jeff waiting to hear what their next move was.
“We’ve been called back to New York,” Jeff said. “We have to report directly to Agent Hammerstein in the morning.” Steve shuddered from the announcement. Jessica had gained a reputation in the agency. According to FBI lore, she could peel the paint off the wall from one of her butt-chewings.
Later that Night
New York FBI Building
Chapter 39
Trip’s office door opened and a man walked inside. The man looked around and found Trip’s fax machine. On the fax machine was a transmission from Thelma. The man in Trip’s office chuckled. If Trip had the fax sent to his email, like most people, this interception never would have been possible. The man studied the fax for a minute, reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He typed out a text and hit send.
The man took the transmission from Thelma and went over to the shedder. He put the paper into the shedder and watched the machine tear the document into strips. About that time, the door to Trip’s office opened and a member of the night cleaning crew started in the office.
“Oh,” said the janitor. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”
“It’s ok,” said the man. “I was just looking for a file Trip was supposed to have left me. Apparently he forgot. I’ll check with him in the morning.”
The janitor smiled and began going about his business. He opened the bottom of the shedder and emptied its contents into a drum that would be incinerated later on that night. The man smiled. He opened the door and started out. He stopped and turned back toward the janitor.
“You have a good night,” said the man.
“You too, sir,” said the janitor. The man headed down the hallway, to the elevator. As he watched the doors slide together, he thought about what he would do once he had paid off his debt.
Jessica’s Office
New York FBI Building
Chapter 40
Jessica stared at the phone she had just hung up. She had been combing through the paperwork that Bruce’s IT guy had come up with. There were over 100 possible places in her mind that the Senator could be stored. She was going over cell phone calls and possible areas they were made from to correspond with possible address of warehouses owed by Archibald when the two agents had called her about Luke’s disappearance.
She was staring at the receiver, knowing she was wasting her time. What upset her most was that she knew the two agents were griping about what she was going to do to them. Not because they messed up, but because she was a woman. If these two clowns had done this and Trip, or even John, had dressed them down, they wouldn’t say a word.
Jessica stuck out her bottom lip and blew air up into her face. There were days she wondered why she put up with this crap. She also wondered what was going to happen now that she and John were seeing each other. Would she be accused of getting special treatment because of their relationship? In her mind, if anyone should get accused of getting special treatment because of their relationship it was John.
Jessica smiled in spite of herself. It did amaze her. John wasn’t a great profiler, he could barely turn on a computer, he was an ok marksman, and he wasn’t in great shape . . . well . . . he was before the drinking started. Jessica realized she was smiling a bit too much and shook her head trying to get rid of the mental picture.
Jessica looked out the window of her office at Chet working away, trying to find some lead. Her thoughts drifted back to John. She really couldn’t begrudge him anything. At the end of the day, he closed cases. He found leads and read people naturally. Some people could do the same thing, but they had to spend years studying and understanding what they were seeing. With John, he just knew, and the kicker was, he was always right, always!
Jessica scowled a bit. It was what made him so blasted arrogant. Jessica slammed the folder she was working on down on the desk. Chet barely even flinched; he was used to these occasional outbursts. Jessica took in a deep breath. This wasn’t John’s fault. Jessica knew she was upset that she couldn’t solve Sam’s murder.
