Betrayal (20 page)

Brian Fallon approached the rear of the abandoned three story building carefully. It was not uncommon in this part of the city and yet another reason Claire Brackett’s visit here was perplexing. This part of L Street was noted for drug deals and gun sales, not a place a DCIS or FBI agent normally ventured. This was a beat cop’s territory. Agent Fallon was glad he could claim that title on his resume; that and all that went with it. This was his turf. He looked to the left and saw the rickety fire escape that climbed the height of the building. “Worth a try,” he muttered. He pulled on the bar and it fell just above his head. With a heave he pulled himself up the ladder and onto the first stair. The smell in the alley was both suffocating and familiar. It was a blend of human excrement, dirt, stagnant sewer water and rotting wood. Fallon had deemed it the ‘hopeless’ smell when he worked his beat. He exhaled the stench and continued upward.

Reaching the second level he noticed a window where the boards had been pried away, hanging loosely on a nail. Clearly someone had made this an entrance at one time. “Likely a junkie or a homeless person,” he mused. He shook his head as it filled with the images of despair he had so often encountered in alleys just like this one. It was time to focus on the task at hand. Carefully, he lifted the board and spun it upwards, peering into the blackness beyond. “Here goes nothing,” he whispered. He cautiously draped his foot over the widow frame, hoping it would be met with solid ground. Feeling a firm presence beneath him, he reached around his side for his small flashlight. With a deep breath, Brian Fallon began his exploration of the building. He walked as if treading on glass, keenly aware of every sound around him and equally attuned to the need for silence in his maneuvering. Several feet away he could see light peering through the floor boards. He let out a heavy breath dreading the next move. Sliding onto his belly his senses were immediately filled with the scent of must and mold. He swallowed hard and squinted to peer through the
crack that opened several inches in the floor. “Well, well, Agent Brackett…who is? What is that, Claire?” He rested his forehead against the floorboard and strained to focus as another figure came into view. “Son of a bitch, Tate.”

“Mom, I really shouldn’t leave Cass….”

“Sit down, Alexis,” Helen Toles directed. “I think Cassidy can handle herself.” Alex sighed and took a seat at the small kitchen table. She rubbed her hands together, twisting her knuckles, and wringing them tightly. “You are going to get arthritis is you keep doing that,” her mother warned. “Always a fidget.”

“You wanted to talk to me about fidgeting?” Alex asked pointedly.

The older woman sighed. “She’s lovely, Alexis.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Cassidy. She is a lovely woman,” her mother said flatly.

“Yes, she is,” Alex agreed with his mother’s appraisal.

“Um-hum…and you think you can do right by her? And Dylan?”

Alex immediately pushed her chair back. “Look,” she began.

“Sit down, Alexis,” her mother instructed firmly. “For once just sit down and listen to me.” Reluctantly, and with a heavy, audible sigh, Alex complied. “What you do; it’s dangerous, isn’t it?”

“It can be,” Alex admitted.

Helen Toles nodded. “Alexis, you were always focused on what you were doing. You never had any interest in family.”

“That’s not true,” Alex answered. “I never felt I had one.”

“That’s ridiculous,” her mother responded.

“Is it?” Alex asked. “I never fit in here. You made that clear.” “I see,” Helen Toles answered. “And, now?”

“I still don’t belong here.”

“Alexis, you are my daughter. You belong here more than anyone.” Alex was shocked by her mother’s words as the older woman stood and shook her head. “I don’t understand, Alexis. Your father…well…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Alex said sadly.

Helen Toles turned and placed her hand on her daughter’s cheek. Alex struggled against the tears that suddenly began to well in her eyes. She felt transported. They had been distant for many years now, Helen and Alexis Toles. It had not always been that way. Before the agent hit her teenage years, Helen Toles had been her refuge. She had bandaged the skinned knees and comforted the young Alex after any one of her father’s many reprimands. Alex’s decisions as a teenager to pursue sports, to dress casually and to avoid dating frustrated her traditional mother. Helen Toles had harsh words for the teenage Alex; words that stung more than any paddle her father had ever lifted. They were words that somehow seemed to wash away all the happy memories of years past. Now, the gentle touch of the older woman’s hand seemed to convey a comfort Alex had all but forgotten.

“You love that woman in there,” Helen said plainly. “That little boy; Alexis, he worships you; like you once did your father.” Alex tried to hold her tears, feeling as if she were a small child again. “If you want a family you have to take care of them. Don’t be so reckless.” Alex looked at her mother whose eyes had grown misty. “Time is a teacher, Alexis. I don’t really understand. I can’t tell you that I do.” Alex began to open her mouth to speak when her mother continued. “But, two years is too long. You can’t get them back. Just remember that,” she smiled. “Now, come on, there won’t be any pie left.” Helen Toles started to move when the feel of Alex’s hand startled her.

“Mom?” Helen Toles smiled. “Why does he hate me?” Alex asked without looking at her mother.

“Oh, Alexis. Hate you?” The older woman sighed. “Is that what you think?” Alex’s tears were now visible and threatening
to break through her cool exterior. “Could you ever hate Cat?” Alex shook her head. “Nick?” Alex shook her head again. “Dylan?” Helen Toles crouched in front of her grown daughter. “We all have our demons. That man in there has never hated a living soul, least of all you.” Alex did not understand. “Someday, maybe you will understand, Alexis. Give him some time.”

“He’s had years.”

“You ran away, Alexis. A long time ago. You left. That is how he sees it.” Alex swallowed hard as her mother wiped away a tear that had managed to roll down her cheek. “Don’t be so reckless, Alexis. It will get tough. That’s life. You can’t run away when you have a family, even when you want to.” The agent looked at her mother who had a twinkle in her eyes. “Believe it or not, Alexis, I love you.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead and gathered herself. “Now get yourself together and meet your family in the dining room.”

lex…Alex,” Cassidy gently shook the woman lying next to her. “Wake up, it’s a dream. Alex…” Alex had curled up into a ball and was mumbling something unintelligible. It was a scenario that Cassidy had grown familiar with. One that had seemed to play out in their lives regularly in the last few weeks. One night Cassidy would find herself waking the strong agent and rocking her as if she were a small child, comforting and reassuring her that the images and sounds in sleep were only dreams. Another night would find Cassidy gently wrapped in Alex’s arms as she struggled for her breath, awakened by some nightmare of a shadowy figure and a knife. This new life together was always a dance; a balancing act that each seemed to understand intrinsically. “Alex,” Cassidy gently called again as the taller form beside her finally collapsed into her arms. Cassidy stroked the agent’s long hair and kissed her head softly. “It’s all right. I’m here. You’re safe,” she assured her lover, believing that Alex had again traveled to that day on Mutanabbi Street.

“I don’t understand,” Alex said through a few remaining tears.

“What? What don’t you understand?” Cassidy asked, placing another gentle kiss on the agent’s head.

“She’s wrong.”

“I don’t understand. Who is wrong?” Cassidy was confused.

“He does, Cass. Why does he?” Alex asked.

“Honey, I don’t know what…….”

“He does hate me. He’s never….”

Cassidy sighed and closed her eyes. She shook her head and pulled the agent closer to her. “Your father doesn’t hate you.”

“Then why? Cass, why?”

It was so hard for Cassidy to understand this part of Alex’s pain. The closer that she and Alex became the more she understood that their childhoods had been drastically different. While Cassidy was no stranger to loss; she was keenly aware that she had been fortunate to know the love of both of her parents. Her father’s death had been devastating, but her mother had been deliberate in comforting, reassuring and nurturing Cassidy; always making a point to allow the young girl the time and the patience to grieve and to recall her father. Witnessing the insecurity and pain in Alex’s eyes as she spoke of her parents broke Cassidy’s heart. She had seen that same expression on so many children’s faces in her classroom over the years. Looking at the strong woman she loved so deeply lying in her arms, reduced to the fears and the longings of a child, Cassidy felt a mixture of sadness and anger. “Alex, listen to me. Your parents don’t hate you. They don’t. They just don’t understand.”

Alex took a deep breath and laid her head on her lover’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“What on earth are you sorry for?” Cassidy asked, perplexed by the agent’s apology.

“I really shouldn’t be carrying on like I am.”

“Like you want your parents to approve of you?” Cassidy smiled. “I don’t think that ever really changes for any of us.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” Cassidy said flatly. “I don’t.”

“I’m sorry about Dylan.”

“Alex, Dylan is fine. In fact, I think he is rather proud of his war wound.”

“I never meant for him to get hurt.”

“It happens. I doubt it will be the last time,” Cassidy laughed. “Truthfully, I was more worried when I saw your face than when I saw his.”

“Huh?’

“At least he still had some color. I thought for sure we were going to be picking you up off your mother’s kitchen floor.” She kissed Alex’s head. “And so did your mother.”

“You like her; don’t you?” Alex asked.

“Your mother?”

“Yeah.”

“I do.
But
, I don’t like seeing you upset,” Cassidy’s tone became strained. “Alex, I think you just need to give them some time.”

“Maybe.”

“Did you tell them about the job?”

Alex sighed and sat up. “No.” The question prompted a conversation that the agent knew was inevitable, but was dreading. She had talked to Michael Taylor late in the evening and she was not looking forward to delivering the news to Cassidy that she would be away for a few days, possibly longer. Without any conscious thought the agent’s hands lifted to her face. She pressed the bridge of her nose with her index fingers before allowing them to come to rest on her cheek.