Covert Alliance

by Linda O. Johnston

  They obviously all knew one another so there had been no introductions, at least none Alan heard. Maybe it would have been more interesting if he recognized the people and the business interests they represented. Presumably, Grodon and the other city council folks were wooing local businesspeople in the hope they’d contribute lots of money to those proposed, and undoubtedly costly, events. Maybe to their next political campaigns, too.

  But to Alan this was a waste of time, at least when it came to his real reason for being here.

  It had been a kick, though, to trade text messages with Kelly, despite having to be careful when he read hers and responded. It was one thing for a member of the security detail to talk on the phone or text with others on the job, but he didn’t want anyone to catch him doing something considered unacceptable—a black mark against his reputation here. To do it all, he needed to be perfect, or at least appear that way.

  But he’d worked it out, and now he had something to look forward to—for the sake of his real mission.

  The fact that he was meeting Kelly for dinner very soon—alone, at her place—well, that was a perk of sorts, but he reminded himself that their apparent relationship was simply part of both of their covers.

  No matter how attracted he was to the woman, he never forgot that she had done the one thing he found intolerable. Kelly had broken promises and disobeyed orders, even though she thought she had good reason to.

  Instead, she should have asked for help.

  He would need to keep that in mind when he was with her that evening.

  * * *

  Kelly wished she knew what kind of takeout food Alan was going to bring to her apartment. Not that it mattered. But she had just gotten home about ten minutes earlier, removed the headband she usually wore to control her hair at work and changed into comfortable dark slacks with a lacy brown top she particularly liked—especially because its neckline was low but not revealing. She was now fussing around the one-bedroom apartment’s small kitchen, where a table for two was located.

  She had set the table with napkins, flatware and water glasses. She wished she had a bottle of wine. Would Alan bring that, too?

  She still hadn’t heard from him except to confirm he would be there around seven forty-five, ten minutes from now. He didn’t ask her address.

  Now it was her turn to get ready for him.

  For their business meeting, she reminded herself. Never mind that it was private, in her apartment, or that they wanted to give the impression to anyone paying attention that they were an item, or—

  A buzz sounded from the intercom. Kelly hurried out of the kitchen and through the tiny living room with its small sofa and single chair, toward the door. She pushed the button.

  “Yes?” She tried to sound calm and relaxed, as if she weren’t all excited about the idea of spending time with Alan that evening.

  “Hi, Kelly,” said a deep voice in response. “It’s Alan.”

  “Oh, hi. I’ll buzz you in. I’m on the third floor, apartment 322.”

  “I know,” he said. “Be right up.”

  * * *

  Opening the front door after Kelly’s buzz, Alan glanced around. The moderate-sized apartment building’s lobby was empty and seemed standard: white plaster walls, linoleum floors, high ceilings and one wall lined with mailboxes. There was a scent of cleaning fluid, so apparently the place was well maintained.

  Pretty much what he’d anticipated.

  He walked up the two flights of stairs to the third floor, two plastic bags containing their dinner in his hands.

  Knowing that her name—now—was Kelly Ladd had given Alan all the information he needed to find her local address on one of the secure locator sites he had access to on his phone, thanks to being part of the Covert Investigations Unit. He figured that Judge Treena knew Kelly’s location, too, but was silently giving Alan latitude to find and work with her—for now.

  He’d also taken the time to check out the neighborhood on another of his resources. There were few reports of illegal activities around here—a break-in several months ago at a complex down the street, a couple of domestic disputes in this building, a car break-in nearby. Nothing major, and nothing to indicate this was a bad area to live in.

  On the other hand, it was a far cry from the upscale neighborhood where Shereen Alsop had lived, and way below the elite area housing Stan Grodon and his son...and where Andi Alsop Grodon had formerly resided with them.

  He turned right at the top of the steps and headed toward the door to the second apartment, number 322. There, he pressed the button and heard the buzz from inside.

  He heard the sound of footsteps, then the door opened.

  Kelly smiled up at him, her brown eyes twinkling. “Ah, Mr. Deliveryman. Come in.”

  He wondered now what color her eyes really were, since most subjects helped by the Transformation Unit portion of the ID Division were given contact lenses as part of their makeovers.

  Maybe he would find out someday, but not now. “Yes, Ms. Consumer. I hope you like Chinese food. I thought I’d bring something different from usual US fare that you’re generally surrounded with at the Haven.”

  He glanced around the inside. The door opened into a small living room area, and he saw a couple of other openings he assumed led to the kitchen and bedroom. The furnishings were standard, a small tan upholstered sofa and chair both facing a shelf containing a flat-screen television.

  Fair surroundings to live in. Impersonal enough for someone who wasn’t a real person, exactly.

  “Sounds great,” Kelly said. “Come this way. I’ll show you the kitchen.” She moved away from him, one hand beckoning him to follow. Which he was glad to do, watching her back end swaying enticingly as she preceded him. No longer was she in that slutty, though attractive, waitress garb. Her outfit went well with the furnishings’ coloration, in deeper brown. Her pants fit snugly, and her top? It was loose but hugged her curves.

  Plus, he enjoyed her curly hair freed that way.

  Good thing they had both agreed on pretending to have a relationship. He could stare at her as part of their cover. Although here, in private, they could act like the disinterested collaborators they were.

  But staring at her, at least from behind, still worked for him.

  He was glad, though, that he’d taken the time to change from his standard security uniform of a suit into a plaid shirt over jeans—more casual and friendly. And friendliness here wouldn’t be a bad thing.

  “Here we are.” She pointed to a pale wood table that would fit two comfortably, though not more. The rest of the kitchen was tiny, too, with all the standard stuff but smaller: a metal refrigerator with the freezer part on top, a sink with counters beside it that didn’t extend very far, although the right side held a compact microwave oven. The cabinets matched the wood of the counters.

  To Alan, this did not look like a place to live for very long, even though he figured most of the building’s low-rent tenants stayed for years.

  “Great.” Alan put both bags on top of the table, hearing a slight thump as the wine bottle touched the surface. “Do you have any wineglasses?”

  The smile on her lovely face grew even wider. “I sure do. Wine sounds wonderful tonight.”

  And she looked wonderful tonight. He had a sudden urge to move around to where she was now reaching into the cabinets above the counter to the left of the sink and extracting a couple of long-stemmed glasses.

  Not that he wanted any kind of reimbursement for tonight’s meal, but he suddenly craved a thank-you kiss. Or a kiss for any other reason. Or no reason.

  “I’ve got something to tell you about Stan Grodon and that meeting this afternoon that might give you another angle to look into to find evidence about what happened to Andi,” Kelly said, putting two glasses on the table. “Do you need a corkscrew?”

  “Yes,” he said. “That would be great.” And so was the reminder about why he was really here—not to see this gorgeous and sexy woman
socially, but to work with her for their mutual purpose of bringing down the man who had most likely killed her sister.

  She turned her back once more and reached into a drawer near the sink, extracting a wine-bottle opener. It looked generic enough to have come with the apartment, since the place appeared to have been rented furnished and perhaps even with dishes and flatware.

  Alan wondered what Kelly had told the leasing agent about where she’d come from, and why she was here, not to mention how long she was staying.

  “Want me to do it?” She looked at the bottle Alan had placed on the table, food containers beside it.

  “Let me.” He reached out, and she placed the corkscrew into his hand.

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Deliveryman.” She laughed, then got some serving spoons from another drawer. She had already put plates, forks, knives and napkins onto the table so they were ready to go.

  In a few minutes, they were sitting at the table, facing each other. They both had Chinese food on their plates: kung pao chicken, fried rice and stir-fried vegetables. Alan lifted his wineglass in a toast.

  “May we find all the answers we need to suit both of us—and make Judge Treena happy, too,” he said, staring into Kelly’s pretty brown eyes to gauge her reaction to the latter. What did she think of Judge Treena—and making her happy?

  “I’ll drink to that.” Kelly lifted her glass and took a sip. “Although I haven’t talked to her, I suspect that if I asked Judge Treena what I could do to make her happy, she’d insist on something I’m just not ready to do now.”

  “Like move back to the location and job where she placed you? Maybe obey a few orders?” Alan knew that his wryness had an edge of irritation to it. All that had been done for Kelly had been intended to keep her safe. Now here she was, practically mocking the ID Division. And Judge Treena.

  “I only wish I could.” The sorrowful expression that suddenly washed over Kelly’s face almost made Alan feel sympathetic. “But that’s one of the things I want to talk about tonight. I said I have some potentially helpful information for you, and I do. But first—seeing Eli haphazardly that way, not really being able to talk to him or learn what’s going on or how to help him... I need for us to discuss some kind of plan for me to fix things for him. And if you want to help, too, that would be fine.”

  * * *

  Kelly watched Alan’s face change from hard and maybe even angry to pensive. She was challenging him, sure, but it was within his purview as a CIU agent to help her with what she had asked.

  Would he? She really hoped so.

  “I understand that’s why you’ve come here, Kelly,” he finally said. “And why you felt you had to break every promise you made to get the Identity Division to help you. But—”

  “But you don’t really get it.” She looked down at her plate rather than at him, keeping her tone level, trying to swallow her disappointment.

  They’d talked some about becoming allies, working together toward their important and related goals. Well, she absolutely wanted him to achieve his: finding compelling evidence to convict Stan of doing whatever he had done to her sister.

  Did he want her to achieve hers—convicting Stan, and even more pressingly, helping her nephew?

  “I do, Kelly. Definitely.” His voice was soft now, and when she looked back up at him, his deep brown eyes captured hers in a glance that truly did appear sympathetic.

  But he was part of the Identity Division. Everyone affiliated with the agency, particularly the Covert Investigations Unit, was a good actor. It went with the territory.

  He stood up then, crossing his arms in front of what she knew was a hard chest. “I realize you don’t necessarily believe me, but I’ve been keeping an eye on young Eli every time I see him in Government Plaza and elsewhere. I don’t know about mentally, but he didn’t appear physically abused until the last few days. I’ve made notes and taken photos when I could. When I get the evidence I need on his father, I’ll be able to take him out of the picture. Even before you showed up here, since I knew his history—and yours—I assumed I’d be able to turn him over to his aunt eventually. But your being here changes things, and could make it even more difficult for me to deal with Stan Grodon.”

  “I... I didn’t want that.” Kelly melted downward into her chair. This entire situation had always been hard for her. It had to be a nightmare for Eli, and when he’d felt bad enough to hint about it on social media, she’d felt compelled to forget her own needs and come here, to help him.

  But she also wanted to make sure Stan Grodon was taken down, as he should be.

  “Of course you didn’t.” He looked as if he might stride toward her and she tensed, both wanting him close and hoping he wouldn’t get near her. If he tried to comfort her by holding her, she was afraid she’d fall apart.

  Instead, he seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, then resumed his seat. As if he had not stood at all, he took a sip of wine and began eating again.

  Kelly took the opportunity to tell him about having seen Jerome Baranka with Stan that morning, heading for the meeting. She described the situation before her sister had disappeared: the real estate mogul, his apparent friendship with—bribery of?—Stan. Stan’s arguments with his real estate agent wife.

  “I knew some of that,” Alan said when she was done. He’d finished his meal and looked across the table toward her, his craggy dark eyebrows furrowed. “I’d looked into Baranka Real Estate when I first got here, and they were on my list to check out further. But from my initial investigation, that real estate angle was only one of several possibilities, and Stan and Baranka weren’t in as close contact as Stan was with some others on my list. But you can be sure I’ll examine that transaction more closely now. Not sure it’ll yield anything solid in the way of evidence against Stan, but we’ll see.”

  “To me, it still seems the most likely possibility,” Kelly said. She hadn’t finished her dinner, mostly because she wasn’t really that hungry, not with all the emotional mental flogging she’d been doing to herself.

  No. It was her brother-in-law’s doing. And she really did need to help her nephew.

  She took a long swig of wine, then looked across the table intently at the man who was here to bring Stan down. “Look, Alan, I know you’re mad at me on behalf of the ID Division, and maybe otherwise, but we’ve already decided to help each other. And first thing, I have to make sure Eli’s okay. You see him more than I do, and I appreciate your giving me notice so I can pop in on him at Government Plaza. But...well, I’ve been contemplating trying to become Councilwoman Arviss’s good buddy so I can hang out with her more, but have a lot of reservations about it. There’s got to be some way for me to get closer to Eli, and I’ve wondered if she’s the key. What do you think?”

  “Bad idea, at least for now,” Alan said. “She seems to be a strong and helpful presence in Eli’s life. If you press her, question her, she might ask too many questions, of Stan and of you. I’ll try to sound her out if I get the opportunity, but you should avoid her for the time being.”

  “Okay. You’re right. That’s kind of what I decided. I don’t want to ruin her acting as a friend to Eli. He needs someone in his corner. He’s probably suffering...” Kelly hadn’t meant to raise her voice like that, but everything she had been holding inside suddenly erupted. Still staring into his handsome face, she tried to figure out what Alan was really thinking...before she felt tears start dampening her own cheeks. “I... I’m sorry,” she said, again looking away from him.

  “Me, too.” Alan’s voice was gentle—and it came from beside her. “I wish I had a magic solution for you. Or that I’d found everything I was looking for to bring Stan Grodon down so you didn’t have any reason to come here. But I didn’t. And we have to go from here.”

  “I—I just thought I’d at least figure out a way to see Eli more while I’m here, to help him,” she blurted. “But everything I come up with could hurt him—and maybe me—more.”

  She felt a touch on her shou
lder and turned to see Alan right beside her. She rose, he pulled back her chair, and suddenly she was in his arms.

  She hadn’t meant to cry. Not at all, and not like this. But she felt as if all the fear and stress she’d been holding inside was now erupting, and that it was okay since she was being held by the one person who, even if he didn’t agree with her, understood best what she was going through.

  She stood there for a minute getting herself back under control. Or trying to. At least the tears stopped flowing.

  But she realized she liked where she was—being held by Alan, comforted by him...and more.

  Her body started tingling, reacting to him in all the most sensitive places. He was one sexy guy.

  But that wasn’t appropriate. She needed to get away from him. She moved to look up at him, tell him she was fine...and wound up looking right into his eyes.

  They were blazing with desire. That stimulated her even more. And when his mouth came down and met hers, she was ready for it. More than ready.

  She realized she had been waiting, hoping for this as the kiss grew deeper. Hotter.

  Waiting for this—and more.

  Chapter 10

  Alan hadn’t intended to kiss Kelly. To touch her like this. He had only wanted to soothe her, yet he was affected by the way she looked at him. Seemed to wait for him. To want him...

  She tasted wonderful, slightly spicy like their dinner. He tested her taste even as he teased her tongue with his.

  Her breasts against him felt warm, curvaceous. And when he reached down to grasp her bottom, pull her closer, he nearly gasped with pleasure as she pushed against his erection, hardening it.

  What would she be like naked...?

  She must be thinking the same as him, since her hands were suddenly at the back of his shirt, lifting it, touching his flesh with her soft, exploring hands. And then they dipped lower, as if she wanted to grasp his butt as well, but not through his pants. Inside them.

  But as he moved a little to help her, to start removing her clothes first, she pulled back and gave a small laugh.