Beyond Betrayal

by L. T. Ryan

  They walked to the West Wing Secret Service office, down the stairwell into the tunnel that ran beneath the White House to the Treasury Building, up four flights of stairs and down a hall that led to Beck’s office.

  He seated himself behind his desk and hit the speaker button on his phone. Julie Polanski answered.

  “I need to meet with you and Banner,” Beck said.

  “I can be there in fifteen minutes,” she said. “You’ll have to call Banner and find out what his schedule is.”

  Beck ended the call, then tried Banner’s office extension. The call went to the man’s voicemail. Beck left a quick message and hung up.

  “How much are you going to tell them?” Clarissa asked.

  He swiveled in his seat to face her, placing both hands on his desk. “I’m not telling them anything, Clarissa. You are. Start from the beginning and work your way down. Everything you’ve told me, tell them. Don’t let them intimidate you. They know I cleared you. For now, at least.”

  “For now?”

  Beck shrugged. “Everyone’s a suspect.”

  He tried Banner’s number a few more times, but never got through, even when dialing the man’s cell. Clarissa figured Banner had plenty to deal with and might be unavailable for a few days.

  Polanski’s arrival was announced with a clearing of the woman’s throat. Clarissa smoothed her shirt and fixed her collar, running her fingers over the pin she’d been told to wear.

  “Did you manage to get a room?” Polanski asked.

  Beck remained seated. “No. And I didn’t get a hold of Banner either. I figured we’d meet in his office since it’s bigger than most of the meeting rooms around here. We’ll have to make do with my tin can.”

  Clarissa shuddered at the reference, thinking about the abandoned house and steel holding cell she’d been in earlier that day. She wasn’t sure how it would turn out, but this was better than any scenario she had imagined at the time.

  Polanski turned at the waist and looked around. She disappeared for a moment and returned with a chair. She wheeled it into the office, then shut the door. Clarissa shuffled her chair a few feet toward the wall to make room. Polanski fell back into it without thanking Clarissa for the seat.

  “So what the hell happened today, Beck?”

  Beck crossed his left leg over his right knee and stared at Polanski as if pissed that she’d implied what had happened had been his fault somehow. His cheeks turned a slight shade of red. His jaw muscles rippled near his ear.

  “Dammit, Beck, don’t look at me like that. We’re crunched for time. If you’ve got something, then let me know so we can get moving on it.”

  “Clarissa was there. I’m going to let her tell you what she saw today.”

  Clarissa recounted her story starting with the long walk in the tunnel, waiting in the hall alone with Jordan, doing her best to avoid the guy including pretending to play on her phone. She told Polanski how the men reacted when McCormick said he wanted to get lunch. They stepped outside, the light, adjusting, the less than busy street. She looked up, then down, then up again, this time following the gaze of Jordan. She saw something, still unsure of what it was, but it was there. Then there were two shots, a shoulder in her back, her head slamming against ground. She mentioned Jordan taking her phone.

  “Damn I wish we had that phone,” Polanski said.

  “Maybe it’s still with Jordan,” Clarissa said with a glance toward Beck.

  He said nothing.

  Polanski said, “We’ve already swept the scene. First thing we did after McCormick was moved. I already received the item list and a cell phone wasn’t on it.”

  Did the woman doubt her story about Jordan taking the phone?

  “But what about with Jordan?” Clarissa asked.

  Polanski shook her head.

  “What are you hoping to find?” Clarissa asked.

  “Nothing, Clarissa. I want to find nothing so I can proceed with clearing you on this.”

  “Well, if it’s not there, then someone must’ve taken it, right?”

  Beck glanced at Clarissa before interjecting himself into the conversation. “I think she’s got a point there, Julie.”

  “That someone took it?”

  He nodded.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Someone trying to cover something up.”

  “Cover what up?”

  Clarissa said, “Jordan glanced up toward the window where I saw something sticking out.”

  “And what was it that you saw?”

  Clarissa shook her head. “I can’t be sure. It could’ve been a rifle. Could have been—“

  “Could have been this or that or any other number of things. It does me no good right now.”

  Beck said, “At the very least we’ve got to gather some intel on his communications the past few days and bring him in for questioning.”

  “He’s at McCormick’s side right now. Refused to leave. Why would he do that if he was behind killing him?”

  “To finish the job?” Beck leaned forward. “Is anyone else with him?”

  Julie said nothing.

  “Dammit, Julie. Is someone else there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Beck rose and began pacing the rear of the room. “Well you better find out, and I mean now. We need to get a hold of Banner. Any idea where he is?”

  Julie shrugged as she pulled out her cell phone and began dialing. Beck continued to pace as she spoke. After she hung up, she answered his question before he asked it. “There’s two others there, and there will be at least that many. He won’t be alone. I’ll make sure of that. In fact, I’m going to go over and relieve him of his duty myself.”

  “He’s not going to respond to you,” Beck said. “Doesn’t have to. I need to go. Right now what I want you doing is getting Banner on the phone and get the okay to start digging into Jordan’s personal life. We need records of everything he’s done in the last week. That’s just for starters. We might need to delve deeper than that.”

  Julie nodded. She sat ramrod straight, and seemed to be in agreement with everything Beck said. “I’ll start looking for Banner now. He’s got to be around here somewhere.”

  Beck said, “If you can’t find him in the next twenty minutes, you pull an override and get things moving.”

  Julie agreed, then rose and reached for the door.

  “What about me?” Clarissa said.

  In their haste to figure out what part Jordan had in the shooting, and whether he might finish the job in the hospital, they’d seemingly forgotten about her.

  “You’ll stay close to me,” Beck said.

  “So that you can bring me in if necessary.”

  Beck and Julie both remained silent, confirming her fear that she was not out of the woods yet. They still had to get Jordan’s story. And if her earlier hunch was correct that someone had retrieved her phone, she felt certain it had been him.

  Chapter 24

  Clarissa and Beck left his office a few minutes after Polanski. There were doubts about Jordan. Could he have been a part of it? If so, what else would he do? If the guy caught wind that Clarissa had figured him to be involved, he might come after her. For that reason, Beck thought it best that they leave.

  Because they had entered through the White House, they had to leave that way, so they made the trip up and down stairs and through tunnels, exiting through the West Wing.

  The sun had started its descent in the western sky, visible as a white ball through the thickening clouds. The stifling warm air was at a breaking point where only a strong thunderstorm could cleanse the atmosphere.

  Despite the heat and humidity, Clarissa rolled her window down when Beck started the car. The air washed over her like warm water, lifting strands of hair off her forehead.

  The drive was short, and it didn’t take long for her to figure out where they were going. Beck pulled into the condo’s parking garage. He ignored the empty spaces near the front and pulled into one
near the stairwell. The less time they spent exposed, the better.

  Walking up the staircase, he said, “Let’s go to your apartment.”

  “You think it’s safe there?”

  “Only a few of us know you are there. Typically, it is reserved for foreign dignitaries that are going to be staying long term. Most aren’t going to think to check there.”

  “Who is ‘us’?”

  He didn’t answer.

  She stopped at the landing half a floor below hers. “Beck?”

  He stopped at the top step and looked back at her. “Let me worry about that. Okay?”

  Together they emerged from the stairwell into the empty and dimly lit hallway. Clarissa half-expected Amy to step out of her condo with a knowing grin plastered on her face. She couldn’t believe it had only been a day since the woman dragged her to that stupid party. Would Beck have been there if she hadn’t attended? There was no way to know, of course, but Clarissa couldn’t help but wonder if the woman across the hall had been friendly for a reason.

  What if someone had put her up to it?

  Beck stopped in front of Clarissa’s door and reached inside his pocket. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door.

  “Do you always carry that with you?” Clarissa asked, wondering why he had the key and if he’d been inside her apartment without her present. What would he have looked for? Could he have swapped anything out? She’d only searched the interior for bugs and hidden cameras upon entering. They might’ve anticipated that and had Beck return later to plant them. She watched his movements as he entered, looking to see if he focused on any one item or area.

  “Make sure that’s locked,” he said after she let the door fall shut. He moved across the room and pulled the blinds shut.

  “What are you afraid of?” she asked. “Didn’t you just tell me that only certain people know I’m here?”

  “I’m just being cautious. That’s all. We’ll know within the next two hours if someone is out for you.”

  She felt a chill form in her lower back and travel up her spine. The sweat on her back turned to ice. She shrugged her shoulders inward to tighten her shirt to her skin.

  Perhaps Beck sensed her fear. He crossed the room, stopped in front of her. The day had been tough on him, too. She saw it in his eyes, on his clothes, in his scent. He reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. She avoided his intense stare. The chills that had been present along her spine now wrapped around her torso.

  “I’m not going to leave your side, Clarissa,” he said in a voice barely more than a whisper. “You might be the key to unlocking what happened today.”

  “There are some who might think I had something to do with what happened today.”

  “And there are others who know your innocence will lead to their conviction.”

  She wondered if Beck knew who was behind it. Who was it he spoke of? Before she could ask, there was a sharp rap on her door. They both straightened. Beck drew his pistol and aimed it toward the entrance to the condo.

  He whispered, “Do you have a backup piece here?”

  She shook her head.

  “In the closet, far wall, feel along it until you notice the crease. Get your fingers in there and pull. You’ll need to enter this code, four-nine-two-seven-six-three-one. You’ll find a weapon in there along with a spare magazine and a cell phone. Go get them.”

  She backed away from him, turned and ran down the short hallway to her room. Opening the door, she saw that she’d left the blinds drawn. The room was dim, though, and the sun still brightened the sky. Perhaps anyone watching her bedroom from across the street noticed her. Most likely they didn’t. She entered her closet and felt along the back wall. The thought occurred to her that Beck had set her up. She had nowhere to run should he and whoever was at the door attempt to arrest her. They’d block her only escape route, and no one would be able to see or hear what happened to her.

  With her heart pounding so hard it felt as though it were in her throat, Clarissa found the crease in the wall. She jammed the tips of her fingers into it and pulled back. It gave a little at first. She wedged the balls of her index and middle fingers behind the panel and pulled until the entire section peeled off the wall, revealing a safe. She entered the code Beck had given her and opened the door.

  The SIG hid in the shadows of the safe. She stuck both hands inside, fingers bent, ready to pull back should something attempt to grasp her from within. In securing both items, she felt a third. Further inspection revealed a stack of cash wrapped in cellophane. The top and bottom bills were hundreds. There had to be at least a hundred of them, maybe more. Beck had to have known it was there. She put the money back and pulled out the weapon, spare magazine, and the cell phone.

  Clarissa stayed close to the wall, in the shadows, as she exited to the hallway. From there, she saw Beck standing in the same spot, staring at the door with his weapon aimed at the middle of it.

  “It’s a woman,” he whispered when Clarissa was a foot or two away.

  “Amy?”

  He shrugged. Did he not know if it was her? Or who Amy was?

  “I think she left,” he said.

  “I’ll check.” Clarissa tucked her pistol behind her back and stepped toward the door. She stopped a few feet shy. She leaned forward, placing a hand on either side of the peephole. The slice of hallway she could see looked empty. She angled her head to try to see further to the left and right. No one was there. The door across the hallway opened and Amy approached. Her hand rose and grew and filled the cone of vision the peephole provided Clarissa.

  After the raps on the door, she looked and back gestured for Beck to hide in the hallway. He shook his head in protest, but left the room when she turned the doorknob.

  “Sorry, Amy. I heard you knocking but was in the back.” A study of Amy’s face worried Clarissa. She looked distraught. “Everything okay?”

  Amy tried to answer, but her hollow voice led to tears and sobs.

  “What’s wrong?” Clarissa asked.

  “Rob-Rob-Adam didn’t come home from school.”

  Chapter 25

  Clarissa reached for her neighbor and pulled her into the apartment, letting the door close. Amy looked past her. The woman’s gaze met Beck’s and didn’t let go. Beck’s face appeared tight. He froze in place.

  “Is there anywhere he might have gone?” Clarissa asked. “Clubs, sports, a friend’s house?”

  “No,” Amy said. “Not without telling me first.”

  “Does he have a cell phone?”

  “Yes, but there’s no answer.”

  The whole time, Amy focused on Beck. Her demeanor seemed to change, as though she were frightened of the man. Clarissa glanced back at him. He looked at her for a second, then glanced away. He knew the apartment well enough to know there was a safe, and he knew the combination and contents of that safe. He had to have been aware of the neighbor across the hall. Perhaps he interrogated her before. After all, they placed important foreign visitors in the condo. At least, that was what Clarissa had been told.

  “Have you called the police yet?” Clarissa asked.

  “No police,” Beck said.

  Whatever fear had been there disappeared in an instant. Amy’s cheeks reddened. She pushed past Clarissa and stormed up to Beck, arms flailing, hitting him in the chest.

  “What have you people done with my son?”

  Beck raised his arms to deflect her blows. He wrapped his hands around her wrists and held them down by her side.

  “What did you do?” she yelled.

  “Nothing,” Beck said. “My people didn’t do anything.”

  “You told me that if I ever—”

  “Think about everything we told you,” Beck said, looking past Amy and making eye contact with Clarissa. “You are bound to that agreement.”

  Amy’s shoulders slumped. Her knees went weak. Beck stopped her from collapsing. Clarissa knew this was not a routine missing person situation, or a random kidnapping.
Someone powerful had taken Adam. But who? And why?

  She reached for the door and locked it. Beck led Amy to the couch and told her to sit. He then crossed the room toward Clarissa. Her initial reaction was to step back. He held his hands out, palms facing her, head tilted to his right.

  “I had nothing to do with this, Clarissa. You have to trust me.”

  “I don’t trust anyone. That’s how I’ve made it this far.” She glanced at the woman who was once again in tears. “If you didn’t, who did?”

  “I’m going to figure that out. I might need your help.”

  “What can I do?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  “This is because of me, isn’t it?”

  Beck took his time answering. “It’s because of what happened today.”

  “Then why the boy? Why not kidnap me?”

  “Why do you think she lives across the hall from this unit? Coincidence?” He took a step closer, reached for her shoulders. Clarissa deflected his hands as if they were striking snakes. “We placed her there.”

  “She works for the Secret Service?”

  Beck didn’t answer her question.

  “Or is she a contractor? You know what, never mind that. Tell me what her purpose is?”

  Beck looked over his shoulder. He lowered his voice, said, “She collects information. Someone must think she has some involvement in what happened today, or at least had knowledge of it, but did nothing.”

  “So they take her son?”

  He exhaled forcibly. “I’m not saying it’s right, Clarissa. And obviously I don’t know that for sure. But, yes, someone might have done it to pressure her.”

  “Into what?”

  “That I don’t know. I can only assume, and I’d rather not do that right now.”

  Clarissa pushed past Beck. She shrugged out his grasp as he attempted to turn her around. Amy stared at the closed blinds covering the windows that looked out over the city. She turned her head toward Clarissa.

  “What are they going to do to my baby?”

  Taking a seat next to the woman, Clarissa said, “I don’t know, but I’ll do what I can to help get him back.”