Fires of Autumn (44 page)

“Can I see
you a minute?” he asked.

Casey
looked up from her computer and forced a smile.  Standing up, she collected her
steno pad and pen and followed him into the Oval Office.  Russ eyed her as he
sat down at his desk and she took the chair opposite; there was no spring in
her step these days.  It was as if she was just going through the motions,
efficient as always, but there was no joy or humor in her face. 

More than
that, it was apparent that her belly was growing. She had surprisingly been
able to camouflage her rounded stomach with sweaters and jackets and layers of
clothing or scarves, but Russ was concerned about the pregnancy and eventually
broke down to tell his wife. Tracy had been particularly emotional about it but
Russ wouldn’t let her talk to Casey.  As far as Casey knew, it was still a
secret with only Russ and Peter in the know.  But it was a secret she wouldn’t
be able to keep much longer because at almost eight months pregnant, she just
couldn’t deny the obvious any more.  Anyone with half a brain would see that
she was with child if they got a good look at her waistline.

Today, she
camouflaged it in a pale yellow summer dress with an empire waistline. It was
elegant and sophisticated. She sat down on the couch opposite the President and
crossed her great legs, still wearing the five inch heels these days.  Russ
cleared his throat softly.

“Don’t you
think…,” he was pointing at her shoes, “that, uh, those shoes are a little
high?”

Casey
looked down at the sexy nude-colored pumps on her feet.  She shrugged. “I’m
comfortable in them.”

“What does
your doctor say?”

She cocked
an eyebrow. “The same thing you say,” she replied. “She’s not telling me not to
wear them, but she doesn’t think they’re a good idea.”

“Neither
do I,” Russ insisted with a grin.

Casey
smiled weakly. “Is that why you called me in here?”

He shook
his head. “No,” his smile faded. “I wanted you to talk about the story on the
news about the assassination of Gael Rodrigo Noestra. Have you seen the story
yet?”

Casey’s
humor, as weak as it had been, fled and she averted her gaze, looking at her
steno pad.

“Yes,” she
said softly. “I saw it last night.”

“You know
that Colt did his job, Casey.”

She simply
nodded and he continued. “When was the last time you heard from him?” he asked
softly.

She took a
deep breath for courage. “About three months ago.  He left a message on my cell
phone that he’d call back but he never did.  He’s been using burn phones, you
know. Disposable things. I can never call him back.”

Russ
nodded, eyeing her, sensing her turbulent emotions. “That’s smart,” he said
softly. “But now that his assignments over, I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

She
nodded. Then she burst into quiet tears.  Stricken, Russ leapt off his couch,
grabbed a box of tissues, and sat down beside her.

“Don’t
cry,” he told her softly. “Please don’t cry. Everything is going to be all
right now.”

Casey took
a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “I hope so,” she whispered. “I just want him
home.”

Russ put
his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Come and have dinner with
Tracy and me tonight,” he said quietly. “I know Tracy would like to see you. 
Can you bring the boys?”

Casey
nodded, forcing herself to be brave.  So much of her life was in turmoil right
now and she struggled to stay above it.

“Sure,”
she said. “Thank you for the offer. The boys will be thrilled.”

“Good,” he
eyed her as she wiped her nose. “What do they know about Colt?”

Casey took
a deep breath, composing herself. “What everyone else knows,” she replied.
“I’ve told them he’s in Europe.  Somehow, someway, he arranged to send Hunter a
game station for his birthday last month. I don’t know how he did it, but
Hunter got a very expensive console from Colt.  He’s thrilled with it.”

Russ
grinned. “He thinks a lot of those boys, doesn’t he?”

“They
think a lot of him, too.”

“Good,” he
stood up from the couch, watching her laboriously push herself up.  “Uh… I hate
to say this, Casey, but you move like a pregnant woman.”

She gave
him a lop-sided smile. “I guess it’s stupid of me to keep trying to hide it,”
she rubbed her belly through the flowing dress and Russ got a good look at just
how big she really was. “I suppose if anyone asks me from now on, there’s no
use in denying it.”

“And if
they ask me?”

“Tell them
Luke Skywalker is the father.”

He
laughed. “It’s nobody’s business who the father is but yours.”

“Thank
you.” Casey paused by the door leading back to her desk, turning to Russ and
extending her hand. “For everything you’ve done for Colt and me, I really want
to thank you.  You’re a pretty good guy.”

Russ shook
her soft, warm hand. “I’m going to use that as my campaign slogan for my
re-election,” he said, letting her hand go. “But you’re very welcome.”

With a
smile, a genuine one this time, Casey returned to her desk and sat down.  She
was about to launch into another project when she noticed that it was nearing
lunch time.  Hungry, she knew she had to eat before she started feeling sick so
she collected her purse and prepared to move out.  As she stood up from her
chair, Peter emerged from Colt’s old office.

Peter had
taken over as Special Agent in Charge in the absence of Colt Sheridan. He and
Casey had shared a strained relationship, mostly because Casey didn’t trust him
anymore.  She was afraid he might try to take her back to Mr. Meade and there
would be no Colt to save her.  However, she never divulged to Russ that Peter
was also an agent for the Core.  She should have ratted him out but she
couldn’t bring herself to do it.  Somehow, Peter reminded her of Colt and she
didn’t want to cut her ties to any reminders of him, good or bad.

“Hi
Casey,” Peter said, treating her very carefully as he always did. “Do you have
a minute?”

Casey
looked at him warily, purse clutched up against her belly as if protecting
herself from him. “What about?”

Peter
could see how guarded she was; she had been for months. Not that he blamed her.

“Please,”
he said softly, gesturing towards the front of the West Wing. “Can… will you
please just give me a few minutes and go for a walk? It’s important.”

Casey’s
first instinct was to refuse. “I’m not getting in a car with you.”

“No cars,
I promise.”

“I’m not
going any place private with you, either.”

It was
good that Chris Eckart wasn’t in the office; Peter felt more comfortable
speaking of secretive things as he struggled to convince Casey he meant her no
harm.

“Casey, I
swear I’m not going to abduct you or take you to Mr. Meade,” he whispered. “I
really need to talk to you. It’s really important.”

Brow
furrowed, she was indecisive for a few moments before reluctantly nodding her
head.  Then she began to walk out with Peter following.  She passed by
Lisanne’s desk and the young receptionist waved to her while she was on the
phone.  Casey waved back, passing by Maggie’s office and catching a glimpse of
the woman at her desk.  Maggie saw her and quickly hung up the phone.

“Casey!”
she called, rushing out from behind her desk. “I was just calling you to see if
you wanted to go to lunch.”

Casey came
to a halt with Peter beside her. “I’d love to, but Special Agent Harrios and I
have some business. I’ll talk to you later.”

Maggie
smiled and waved her off, watching her walk down the hall with the handsome
African-American secret service agent.  Her smile faded as Casey disappeared
from view.  Turning back for her desk, she was startled to find Lisanne
standing behind her.

“Oh!”
Maggie jumped.  Then she frowned. “Stop sneaking up like that.”

Lisanne
grinned. “I didn’t mean to,” she said. “I wanted to talk to Casey.”

Maggie
sighed heavily. “She doesn’t talk much these days, you know that,” she said
softly. “She’s been keeping to herself.”

Lisanne’s
smile faded. “Poor baby,” she whispered, looking around to make sure no one was
listening. “Have you heard anyone say anything about her pregnancy?”

Maggie
frowned at her. “No,” she hissed. “And you need to keep your mouth shut, too.”

Lisanne
shook her head innocently. “I haven’t said a word!” she insisted. “But I heard
a couple of the Vice President’s aides talking about her the other day.  They
were wondering who the father was.”

Maggie
just shook her head. “I’m sure it’s Sheridan,” she whispered angrily. “It has
to be. Those two were dating and then he just disappeared. If I ever see that
bastard again, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

Lisanne
shrugged. “Poor Casey,” she murmured. “She’s so unhappy these days.”

“I know.”

“What
should we do?”

Maggie
shook her head. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Protect her as best we can. Make
sure rumors don’t get out of hand, I guess. And if I hear Chris Eckart gossip
about her one more time, I’m going to plaster that guy.”

Lisanne
nodded as she turned back for her desk. She knew Maggie meant it, too.

***

It was hot
and humid outside, as July in Washington usually was.  Casey began fanning
herself furiously, her cheeks pink and her face glistening with sweat as they
walked down the driveway away from the White House. There was a slight breeze,
plastering her dress against her torso and showcasing her belly quite nicely. 
Peter noticed it but he didn’t say anything. He kept silent as they walked down
the hot asphalt driveway towards Pennsylvania Avenue.  As they reached the
sidewalk, Casey came to a halt.

“Okay,”
she said. “So no one’s around. What did you want to talk about?”

Peter
stopped and faced her. He could see she wasn’t in a mood for foolish
conversation so he got straight to the point.  He’d been trying to figure out
for the past several minutes how to broach the difficult subject.

“I thought
you’d like to know about Colt,” he said quietly.

Casey went
from suspicious to apprehensive in a split second.  Her violet eyes widened.
“What about him?” she demanded. “Where is he? Is he okay?”

Peter was
careful in his reply. “You know that I have refrained from talking to you about
any of this,” he said softly. “Even when you asked, I told you I didn’t know
anything.  Remember?”

She was
quickly verging on tears. “Of course I remember,” she whispered, wiping at her
eyes before they spilled over. “For the first three months, I asked you every
day. Then I just stopped. I got tired of being disappointed every day.”

He nodded.
“The truth is that I really didn’t know much,” he admitted. “Whatever was going
on with Colt was kept between him and Mr. Meade.  But I did hear pieces of
conversation between Meade and some of the Core members at times.  They spoke
of our contacts down in Bogota and how Colt had been sucked up into their
network. From what I could gather, he went into deep hiding.”

Casey’s
tears were forgotten as she listened closely. “But that’s good, right?” she
asked eagerly. “That’s what he was supposed to do.”

“Yes, it
was,” Peter agreed. “But three months ago, even our contacts lost track of him.
No one knew where he was or what he was doing. It was like he just vanished.
And then yesterday when Noestra was assassinated….”

“But that
was his job,” Casey cut him off insistently. “That’s what he was sent down
there to do, what forced him to choose between staying here with me and going
off doing his spy stuff. He did what that old man told him to do!”

Peter
sighed faintly and reached out, grasping her arm as she grew agitated. “Casey,
I spoke with Mr. Meade about an hour ago,” he said softly. “He says that
they’re not entirely sure Colt was responsible for Noestra’s death. Another
rival cartel has taken responsibility for it and our intelligence in Bogota
seems to confirm it. We can’t find Colt to see what’s really happened. We just
don’t know….”

He trailed
off and Casey began to get panicky. “You don’t know what?”

Peter
tried to be gentle. “We just don’t know where he is.  No one has heard from him
in almost four months and none of our contacts can locate him.”

Casey
stared at him a moment before yanking her hand away from him. “What are you
telling me?”

“I’m
telling you that we don’t know what’s happened to him.”

“Is he
dead?”

Peter
looked pained. “Baby girl, I just don’t know. He’s vanished. That’s all I can tell
you.”

“You’re
lying.”

“No, I’m
not. I swear I’m not.”

“He
wouldn’t just leave me like this.”’

“You’re
right; he wouldn’t if he could help it.  But he may not be able to help it. We
just don’t know.”