Trust Me (12 page)

The file on the OAS contained transcripts of
conversations between her father and other members of the organization. 
The communications consisted of him confirming he would be in certain locations
at specified times.  Although there was no mention of bombings in the
conversations, the places and dates all coincided with the time and places of
the bombings.  However, Alaina realized that the link was not strong
enough since not once did any of the members in the OAS make any mention of the
bombings.  The FBI would need more solid evidence to connect the
explosions to the organization.  That was obviously what the FBI was
hoping to find in the records that had been placed with the historical society. 
Something else was nagging at the back of her mind, but she just couldn't put
her finger on it.  She had the feeling there was some other
connection.  She looked up from the files and saw that they were almost in
Newport Beach. She had been so engrossed in them that she had failed to notice
that several hours had slipped past.  Donovan had been driving and had
obviously decided to let her read the records undisturbed. 

She felt the tears streaming down her face.  She
had trusted her father, and had been his advocate and he had totally betrayed
her.  The son of a bitch was a terrorist and she unknowingly had been
trying to cover his tracks for him.

 “God, I’m such a loser.  I put my heart and
soul into protecting my father’s documents and his organization and the whole
time you were right.  My father was just using me,” she shook her head,
“and now they’re trying to kill me.” 

She grabbed a tissue from her purse and wiped the
tears away, she’d be damned if she shed another tear for the bastard.  She
had to pull herself together and do what she could to help.  She wondered
what the FBI really thought was in those documents.

Well, there was only one way to find the answer to
that question. “What exactly are you looking for in those files with the
historical society?  Do you really think you’re going to discover anything
incriminating in them?”

Donovan noticed her tears and saw how completely
distraught she was by what she had learned.  “Isn't it obvious?  We
need to make the connection between your father's activities and the OAS. 
Until the Bureau can prove the connection, the OAS can claim they were unaware
of Tom Simmons' activities,” he looked at her with sympathy. “Don’t be too hard
on yourself about your father.  Like you told me at lunch yesterday, blood
ties can really pull at you.

“I feel sick, I was almost killed tonight and all
because of my father.  I didn't want to believe it, but having your head
almost blown off does a great deal to change your mind.  Not to mention a
stack load of evidence that any prosecuting attorney would love to get his
hands on,” she told him dryly.

“It's always had that effect on me too, if the truth
be known.” As he listened to her he knew in his gut that she was
innocent.  He could feel her devastation at being manipulated by her
father.  Unfortunately, he didn’t have any hard facts to present to the
FBI to exonerate her.  He was going to need more before he could
officially remove her from the suspect list.

Alaina ran her hand through her hair and released an
irritated sigh, “You must think I'm a moron to have believed he was completely
innocent of any wrong doing.”

“Of course I don’t.  Besides you hadn't seen the
evidence the Bureau possessed against him.  It's not the first time
someone has been successful at leading a double life like your father
did.  He was very good at it and unfortunately he died before we could
collect enough proof.”

A sudden thought struck her. “Donovan, my father knew
he was dying.  He had cancer, he knew a couple of years before he
died.  In fact that's why he decided to come back into my life after
twenty years of being an absentee father.  Shortly after his being
diagnosed with cancer, the bombings started.  Don't you see the
connection?” she asked him impatiently when she didn't get an immediate reaction.

 “I see your point, but it doesn't prove
anything.  You father's motivation for sacrificing himself for the `cause'
is not the issue.  We have enough evidence to prove your father committed
those attacks.  What we don't have is the necessary link connecting Tom
Simmons' bombings and the OAS,” he was eying her skeptically, wondering at her
motivation.

Alaina shook her head. “You're still missing my
point.  I think his actions indicate that everything that my father did
after he was diagnosed with cancer was methodically planned.  His
placement of his personal papers in the custody of the historical society also
held a very specific purpose.  At the time I thought it was rather strange
the way he laid out the conditions of access, but now it seems clear that he
wanted to ensure a record of what he had done survived.  What I don't
understand is where those particular documents are hidden.  The file lists
completed by the historical society reveal absolutely nothing, and you would
assume if they had found any indication of criminal activity they would have
reported it. 
Especially considering the seriousness of
the crimes.”

Donovan listened to her carefully before asking, “Is
it possible that your father left the crucial evidence with you and just used
the historical society as a decoy?”

Alaina shook her head. “He left me nothing but the
responsibility of monitoring access to his papers.  At the time I thought
it was an insignificant task.  I guess it hasn't turned out that way,” she
laughed mirthlessly at the thought, “I think the remaining evidence must be
with the historical society, if it exists.  I'm beginning to believe that
there might be none at all, maybe my father just destroyed it.”

“That's certainly possible, but my gut instinct tells
me that your father's ego wanted to keep a record of his actions for posterity.
I think he honestly believed that future generations would see him as some kind
of hero.”

Alaina looked at Donovan, a bit stunned at his
words.  She was having difficulty reconciling her image of Tom Simmons
with Donovan's. “You think he was that egotistical?”

“I don't know if it was ego or belief in his cause
that made him want to preserve a record of it.  Actually, I suspect it was
a combination of both.  I only know your father from studying his crimes,
I can only guess at his actual motives.”

Alaina felt like her world had been turned upside
down, it was the same way she felt the day Tom Simmons had re-entered her
life.  Everything she knew about him had turned out to be predicated on
deception.  She no longer knew what to believe and she wasn't even sure
she could trust Donovan, after all their relationship was based on deception as
well.  Lost in her thoughts she didn't say anything for the remainder of
the drive.  Donovan must have sensed her need for solitude, and he left
her thoughts.

As Donovan pulled into the driveway, Alaina observed
her new surroundings.  It certainly wasn't what she had expected. 
Although it was dark, she could see the front lawn was covered with an
abundance of foliage: a large variety of tropical plants filled the area,
though there was not a blade of grass to be found.  The condo was not what
she had anticipated either; instead of
an
apartment-type building it more closely resembled a larger townhouse.

Donovan placed the car in park and turned to her.
“Well, this is it, let's grab our things and go in.  It doesn't look as if
the other agent is here yet, I don't see her car.”

Alaina reached down to retrieve her purse and the files
from the car floor. She turned and looked at him confused, “What other agent?”

“Didn't I tell you?  There will be a female agent
present at all times during your protective custody. It's standard procedure.
The Bureau doesn't want your protective custody to be compromised by any
potential sexual harassment incidents.”  Which was especially important,
he thought ruefully, since he had come very close to taking Alaina to bed the
day before.

“Actually, you did mention that a female agent would
be present.  I guess I just forgot with so much going on.” Alaina felt a
wave of emotion that she identified as relief. After all she couldn't be
disappointed at the thought of not being alone with Donovan, could she? 
She noticed the object of her thoughts was going around to the trunk of the car
to gather their bags.  As he did this, she wondered where his bag had come
from. “Donovan where did you get a suitcase, or do they always just magically
appear
in whatever car you're driving?”

“That would certainly be convenient,” he said as he
hefted the bags out of the trunk, “but actually Adams stopped by my apartment
and picked up a bag for me, I usually keep one packed for unexpected trips like
this one.”

“Don't your things get wrinkled sitting in a suitcase
all the time?”  Alaina thought that their conversation was bordering on
the absurd.  She was literally running for her life, yet here she stood
discussing the possibility of Donovan's clothes getting wrinkled. It was as if
the mundane conversation was helping to restore normalcy to her life. 

Donovan shrugged and responded as if he found nothing
strange about the topic, “Yeah, I guess they do get wrinkled, but it's better
than not having any change of clothes at all.  Come on, let's go inside
and see our new home.” 

They walked over to the front door and Donovan put the
suitcases down as he sifted through the contents of the envelope Adams had
given him earlier this evening.  Finally, he found what he was looking for
and pulled out a set of house keys from the envelope.  Donovan put one in
the lock and the door opened. 

He turned and shot her one of those devastating smiles
that always made her knees quiver.

“Home sweet home.
  Should I carry you over the threshold?”

She gave him a dry look in response to his inquiry
while she stepped by him through the front door. “Cute, Donovan, very cute, you
just never let up, do you?”

“Hey, someone has to provide the comic relief.” 
He followed her through the door, tossing their bags on the entryway
floor.  His tone changed becoming more serious. “I'm just going to do a
quick once-over through the house to make sure everything is safe and
secure.  It's always a bother to have unexpected guests.”

With that very disturbing comment he left Alaina standing
in the entryway as he went up the stairs, directly to their right, to search
the condo.  Donovan had gone from his flirtatious mood to FBI agent in an
instant.  Like a chameleon he quickly adapted to whatever role he was
required to play.  Could she ever trust this man?  His ability to
change his personality made him an expert at deception, and it was an aspect of
him which she was going to have to remind herself to be wary.  The idea of
not being able to trust the FBI frightened her, after all if she couldn't rely
on the government to protect her then she was in a great deal of trouble. 
Alaina looked around the condo trying to assess it from where she stood. 
It was two stories, so she assumed the bedrooms were upstairs. Turning to her
left, discovering a light switch by the door, she flicked it on, and was
rewarded with the illumination of the living room area directly in front of
her. It was covered with gold colored broadloom carpet while the furniture
consisted simply of a white couch, matching love seat, and a glass coffee
table.  The dining room, directly left of the living room, was furnished
with a glass table with silver chrome and matching sliver chrome chairs with
white cushions. So totally nineties, Alaina mused.  Adjacent to the dining
room was the kitchen that she could only get a glimpse of through the door that
led to it.  The cabinets appeared to be white as well, with natural wood
counter tops.  The place was very white, too white for her taste. 
The decor reeked of sterility.  She looked up, grateful to hear Donovan
coming down the stairs, feeling a bit nervous standing there alone.

“Everything is clear upstairs, just let me check the
main floor.”

“You mean you left me down here with a potential
murderer while you wandered around upstairs?” she asked, a bit put out by his
apparent desertion.

“Look this is just a precaution, had I believed you
were in any actual danger I would’ve made you wait outside.” His tone softened
as he looked at her, yet there was intensity in his voice. “Don't worry
Alaina,
I'm not going to let anything happen to you.” 

He then went to search the main floor of the
house.  Alaina watched him, since the main floor was designed in an open
concept manner, except for the kitchen, and she could see the entire area from
where she stood.  Donovan went to the sliding glass door, which was on the
back wall of the living room that obviously led to a backyard.  He opened
it and went outside to complete his search.

 Returning through the sidelong glass door,
Donovan greeted her with a smile.
“Looks like everything is
clear.
You should see the back, there's a swimming pool surrounded by a
cement deck. There is a high brick wall surrounding the whole area so I've got
no qualms with you using the pool.  It's very
secure,
the Bureau chooses its places well.”

“I'm beginning to feel as if I were on vacation.”