Trust Me (11 page)

Pushing this disturbing thought to the back of her
mind she said, “Thanks for bringing in my bag.  Can I get you two some
coffee?

Phillips was the first to speak up, displaying a very
charming smile. “I'd love some ma'am, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Alaina looked at Casivetti and Donovan. “Would you
both like some coffee too?”

Donovan responded to her question, quickly taking
charge, “I'll get them some coffee.  I think it would be best if you went
to pack.  Adams will be here with the car and we should get going as soon
as possible.”

Alaina thought he was right, but she wasn't looking
forward to the idea of packing again. “Okay, the coffee and filters are in the
cupboard by the fridge. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to pack now,” she said
with a sigh, heading down the hall towards her bedroom with her bag and,
leaving the agents to fend for themselves.

  Upon entering her bedroom she began pulling
together what she thought would be most appropriate for her to bring, after all
she had never packed for a protective custody get-away.  She laughed
inwardly at her own thoughts. The night's events were obviously having more
effect on her than she realized. 

She began sorting through her things.  After a
little while she looked up to see Donovan leaning against the door jamb, a cup
of coffee in hand. 

Annoyed with his presence, she snapped.  “Can't I
have any privacy?”

“I'm afraid not sweetheart.  Until you're no
longer in danger I'm not letting you out of my sight.  It’s my job to
protect you.” He saw the look of annoyance at his use of the term of
endearment.  He had provoked her intentionally; he just wasn't sure why he
had done it.  It was completely out of character for him, he had always
prided himself on being a consummate professional, but since his first meeting
Alaina he seemed to have thrown aside his ethics.

 “Fine, watch me pack,” she grumbled, irritated
with him and the thought of having to unpack her clothes only to have to pack
again.  She had little
choice,
the business suits
she had brought to Washington definitely would not be suitable for her
confinement in protective custody.  Once she had finished unloading the
contents of her bag, she began refilling it with what she thought would be most
appropriate from her casual wardrobe: some jeans, shorts and some
t-shirts.  She then threw in the necessities such as underwear, socks,
toothpaste, and most important of all, make-up. 

She noticed Donovan was still leaning casually against
the doorframe looking, as usual, completely comfortable in his surroundings, as
if he had watched her pack a hundred times. “Well,” she said, “I guess that
just about does it.  Is there anything else I need?”

She was just about to close her bag when felt
herself
start to tremble.  She couldn’t seem to
stop.  She sat down on the bed and wrapped her arms around her waist in an
effort to keep the trembling at bay.

Donovan noticed her reaction and straightened from his
position against the doorframe.  “Aw shit, adrenaline crash,” he went over
and sat next to her on the bed.  Pulling her close he said, “
It’s
okay.  It’s a normal reaction after high stress.”

“I can’t stop shaking,” she managed to get out.

“I know, just give it some time to subside.  Like
I said it’s a normal response to an adrenaline surge.”

“I feel like such a wimp.”

“Give yourself a break.  You were just shot at.”

“Well I don’t see you shaking like a leaf,” she said feeling
annoyed at how calm he seemed.

“I’ve had a bit more practice at this sort of thing.”

“Huh,” she replied because really how could you argue
with that?  So she sat and let him hold her while her trembling
subsided.  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed while they sat
together, but she felt comforted by his presence. She took deep even breaths
making an effort to calm down.  He was
right,
eventually she began to feel normal again. 

She inhaled before saying, “Okay, I think I’m all
right now.”

He gave her a slight smile. “See, I told you. 
Next time you get shot at it will be so much easier.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Has anyone ever told you
your sense of humor borders on inappropriate?”

He shrugged. “It may have been mentioned on occasion,”
he looked over at her suitcase, “Don't you think you should bring something to
wear to bed?  Or do you always sleep in the nude?  If that's the case
let me assure you that you won't hear any complaints from me.” He was trying to
distract her and provoking her seemed to be the best way.

Why was it, she thought, that he always seemed to get
the best of her. “Very funny,” she mumbled as she reached for an over-sized
t-shirt and stuffed it in her bag. She really wished he would stop flirting
with her. “Okay, I'm ready now, unless you have any other ideas of what I need
to bring?”

He decided to ignore the sarcasm in her tone. “Nope,
it looks as if you brought all of the necessities of life.  You might want
to bring a couple of books with you, hiding out can get very boring. 
Although I'll be there, so that's almost impossible.” She smiled at that, she
couldn't help it.  Donovan's charm was difficult to resist and she was
having a hard time holding onto her anger.

“Well, with that in mind, I’ll bring my ereader. 
I'm not sure I want you to keep me entertained,” she tried hard to sound
skeptical at the thought, although she had the distinct feeling that the next
week with him would not resemble anything close to boredom.  She found her
e-reader on her night table and tossed it in her bag.  She grabbed her bag
and began to walk towards the bedroom door.

Donovan was treated to a leisurely view of her very
fine ass, which he took advantage of to its fullest.  Watch it Prentice,
he chided himself, keep your mind on the business at hand, not where your hand
would like to be.  He thought they should discuss their upcoming week of
isolation before they rejoined Casivetti and Phillips. 

He put his hand on her arm preventing her from leaving
the room. “Alaina, I know you're upset about the surveillance and about my part
in the investigation, but I think it would be a good time to put aside your
anger or it’s going to be one helluva long week.”

The practical side of Alaina knew he was right, and if
she were honest with herself, she would probably have a hard time staying mad
at him, so she might as well admit defeat now since she was too exhausted to
put up a fight. 

Her voice was sounding tired and strained as she
responded to his overture, “All right Donovan,
you
win.  I'll agree to your truce, but only because I don't want to spend a
week in hell either.  Don't get the idea that I'm not still really angry,”
she sat down on the bed, the stress of the evening weighing heavily on her,
“and speaking of hell it's been one helluva night.  As you’ve already
noticed this shooting stuff is not part of my normal day.”

Donovan laughed. “Believe it or not it's generally not
part of my day either.  Since the Bureau relies heavily on surveillance
techniques for their arrests, we're rarely subject to unexpected attacks. 
Usually we're the ones calling the shots, excuse the pun.”

They were interrupted by a shrill tone coming from
Donovan's cell phone.  He pulled it out of his shirt pocket to answer the
persistent ring.

“Prentice.
Hi Adams, you here?
 
Good.  Do you have all the safe house information?  Okay we'll be
right out,” he folded up the phone and replaced it in his pocket, “Adams is
here with our car.  Are you ready to go?”

“I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be,” she said as
she pulled her bag behind her.

He took it from her saying, “Let me take that for you,
it's the least I can do.”

“You got that right.” 

They headed back to the living room, and Donovan went
to the front door to let Adams in the house. He was a big, hefty man. Alaina noticed
Casivetti and Phillips were sitting at the dining room table drinking
coffee.  As Adams entered the house they both rose to join the other men,
he nodded his greeting to all of the agents. 

Donovan was the first to speak. “Thanks for the car
Adams, if you just give me the information package, we'll be on our way.”

The newly arrived agent handed him a manila envelope.
“No problem Prentice, Harrison said everything is there including the file.”

Donovan quickly checked through the contents of the
envelope. “Can you take my car back to headquarters?”

“Sure no problem.”
 

Donovan handed him the keys from his jeans
pocket. 

Adams looked at both of them. “Good luck you
two.  Don't go stir crazy.  Oh by the way, Harrison said he's got a couple
of relief men scheduled if you need them and there’ll be a female agent at the
condo when you get there, but you can discuss that with him.  See you
later.” Adams left as quickly as he had come.

Casivetti looked at Donovan and Alaina, “Are you two ready
to leave?”

Donovan nodded. “Yeah, I think we should be on our
way.  Can you and Phillips secure the house?  I'm going to arrange
for it to be kept under surveillance while we're gone.  If they think Ms.
Simmons has some information they may be back.”

“We'll take care of the house.  You should get
going,” Casivetti insisted quite adamantly.

Donovan turned toward Alaina. “Are you ready?”

“I guess I have to be, don't I?” she responded with
resignation.  Leaving her house this way made her feel completely bereft,
but she knew she had no choice but to go with Donovan.  Had her father
really gotten her into this mess?

They left the house and Alaina saw the car awaiting
them in her driveway. Adams had brought a black Subaru, a car that obviously
was meant to blend into the surroundings.  Donovan put her bag into the
trunk and opened the car doors.  Alaina got in the car, and waited while
Donovan checked the contents of the trunk. 

Shutting it he came to the car door and slid into the
driver's seat. “It looks like everything's here.  Are you sure you've got
everything you need?”

“Yeah, I think I've got everything, but do you mind
telling me where we're going?”

“According to the information I just got, we're going
up the coast to a condo in Newport Beach.  It’s only a couple hours
north.  We'll be safe there and the Bureau will have extra agents
discreetly guarding us.”

“A condo?
 I thought you said we would wind up in some
sleazy hotel?  I never imagined we'd be staying in a condo in suburbia.”

“Let's not question the decisions from above, and
accept our good fortune.  A condo in Newport Beach sounds a lot more
appealing than some hotel in San Ysidro.  Looks like the week won't be so
bad after all.” 

“Don't bet on it Prentice,” Alaina told him, afraid he
would start thinking that the week would turn into some romantic tryst. 
Donovan threw one of the manila envelopes that Adams had given him into her
lap, startling her. 

She looked up at him, annoyed. “What's this?”

“It's what's you've been asking for Alaina.  It
contains the files on the OAS and your father.  I thought you might like
to read it on our way to Newport Beach.  Try not to be too upset by what
you find there,” he warned her, although Donovan wondered if she needed warning
or not.  The files were, of course copies, ones that had been
severed.  He had called Harris from his cell when he had been making
coffee.  He had asked him to send the file, but to exclude all the
incriminating information they had about Alaina.  He couldn't let her know
she was a suspect. It was better if she remained unaware.

“Before I read this I just want to send Elise a text
and let her know I will be out of town for a couple of days.”

“Okay, but after that turn off your cell as a safety
precaution.  You can be located through your cell.”

“All right, I hadn’t thought of that.” She was a
little freaked by that idea, so she quickly texted Elise and shut off her
phone.

Finally she returned her attention to the envelope,
retrieving two files from inside.  As she began reading through the
contents, the evidence was unmistakable and her worst fears were
confirmed.  Donovan's belief in her father's guilt was greatly
substantiated by the documents she read.  The bombings blamed on the OAS
had occurred at federal buildings across the country.  An individual
working for the federal government would receive a box, upon opening it the
bomb inside would explode, killing the opener and often injuring anyone in
close proximity.  The bombs apparently were packed with a combination of
nails and explosive powder and the effect of the explosion was devastating on
its surroundings.  Alaina remembered reading about the bombings at the
time, several years ago. She had been horrified then, but as she read the file
her horror grew.  The file contained records of plane tickets, hotel
reservations, and car rentals all of which coincided with the dates of the
bombings that had taken place in the United States during a two-year
period.  There was also a copy of a receipt for a large amount of Hercules
Red Dot double base powder, the kind used in the bombings, according to the
forensic file.  There was a sworn affidavit by the clerk from the gun
store who identified her father as the purchaser.   Everything
pointed to Tom Simmons. She felt utterly and completely betrayed.  She had
let her father back into her life and he’d betrayed her.  He had even used
her to protect his records.  How could she have been such an idiot? She
had gone toe to toe with the FBI for her father’s sake and he’d made a complete
fool of her.  She’d placed her trust in the wrong man.