AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Oh, so you went to her apartment. Did you have sex?"
"No."
"Oh, that's right, you couldn't because these men were waiting for her. But you would've, right?" "No, I would not have," Rapp said patiently.
Bullshit. Who were these men? Why were they waiting for her?"
"I can't talk about it, Anna."
"The hell you can't. I am so sick of your secrets. I am so sick of this double life. I'm so sick of worrying that you're going to get killed every time you walk out the door."
Rapp moved toward her. "I just have to see this last thing through," he moved to put his arms around her, "and then everything will be fine"
Rielly blocked him and stepped away. "No." She began shaking her head. "No, it'll never be over. I can't live like this." She moved toward the door, tears welling up in her eyes. "I can't do this."
Rapp held out his hand for her. "Anna, I love you. I promise I'll make everything right."
She stopped by the door and wiped some tears from her face. Turning, she faced Rapp and said, "I love you, too, but I know now I can't live this way." She grabbed her purse and her jacket. He moved toward her and she held up her hand. "Don't!" Rapp stopped. "I had my doubts before tonight. This this mess only confirmed what I already feared. I can't be married to you." Rielly opened the door and without looking at Rapp she said, "Don't follow me. I think it's best if we don't see or talk to each other. "With that she went into the hallway, and the door closed behind her.
Rapp stood in the middle of the room unable to move. He didn't know if he'd ever felt such pain. The woman he loved more than anyone in the world had just told him she would not marry him, that she did not want to talk to him or see him again. None of it made any sense. This was supposed to be one of the happiest times of his life and it had just turned into one of the worst. He couldn't just let it slip away like this. As Rapp started for the door, his phone rang. He stopped, thought about not answering and then decided he had to. It was Kennedy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.
Wolf Trap Park, Virginia, Thursday evening
The last vestiges of daylight were slipping over the horizon, but the wind was still gusting. A small beagle darted off the path and scampered through the dry leaves that covered almost every inch of the park. The dog found a sapling with a yellow ribbon tied around it and lilted his leg. His owner puffed on a pipe and watched. It looked like they had the park to themselves. Jonathan Brown's outward appearance didn't show it, but he was nervous. So much so that he'd dug through the boxes in his basement and broken out his old pipe. He just hoped the boys from Langley 's Office of Security hadn't decided that today was the day to follow him. Or even worse, the counterespionage people over at the FBI. They followed everybody from time to time, no matter how senior.
The beagle finished relieving himself and trotted back to the path. The owner and dog started winding their way through the park again. Brown had obsessed all day about the risks involved with the meeting. He wondered if it was a good idea to meet in a park so close to his home. That's where they'd busted the traitor Robert Hanssen, in a park right by his house. Brown couldn't remember exactly, but he thought he'd even been walking the family dog. He looked down at Sparky for a moment as if the pooch might be a bad omen. Brown shook his head and told himself he was being paranoid. Hanssen had been spying for the Russians. Brown wasn't spying for anyone. He was simply trying to do the right thing. He wouldn't be breaking any laws by meeting with this Steveken fellow. At least none that he knew of. The retired judge cringed at the use of such poor reasoning. It was one of the first things he'd learned in law school. Ignorance of the law is no excuse.
When accepting his job at the CIA, he'd had to sign a National Security nondisclosure document. The heinous contract was so long, and cast such a wide net, that Brown was sure the CIA would be able to find him in violation of something. Whether or not he could beat those charges was up for debate. With his reputation as a jurist, he would stand a good chance of being regarded as an honest man who was trying to right a wrong.
Work had been depressing and stressful of late. Kennedy was taking a position that had been promised to him. Brown knew that she and the other deputies had hidden things from him. They didn't trust a federal judge with no practical experience in the spy trade, and that was fine. He'd see how quickly they changed their tune when he became director. He would clean house, and bring in people who were loyal to him, people who would do things by the book. And then when the time was right he would move into Clark 's administration for one of the top spots.
The wind died down for a second, and it was then that he noticed the footfalls of someone on the path behind him. Nervously, he looked over his shoulder and saw a man approaching. Sparky darted off the path again. Brown stopped and turned so he could get a good look at the man. There was a casual recognition in the eyes of the person as he approached, a slight nod as a precursor to a verbal greeting. Brown had no idea what this Steveken looked like. A horrific thought flashed a
cross his mind. What if this was a trap? Brown's pulse quickened. Peter Cameron had just disappeared several weeks ago. Maybe it was Brown's turn. The deputy director watched as the man smiled at him and began to extract something from the pocket of his trench coat. Brown flinched and brought his hands up.
Steveken was not nervous about the meeting. He'd thought it through and came to the conclusion that he was doing nothing even remotely illegal. He was a former special agent for the FBI helping a U. S. congressman look into any illegalities that may or may not be occurring at the CIA.
As Steveken withdrew his right hand from his jacket he saw Brown flinch. He stopped several steps away and asked, "Judge Brown, how are you?"
Brown lowered his hands and said, "Ah fine."
"I'm Norb Steveken." Brown took his hand and said, "Hello."
"Someone who respects you very much gave me your name." "Oh really," said Brown tentatively. "Who was that?"
Steveken shrugged off the question. "He doesn't want to get involved in any of this, but he said you're a man of great integrity and honor."
"You seem to have me at a bit of a disadvantage, Mr. Steveken. What is it you do for a living?"
"I run a security consulting business here in Washington. Before that I was with the FBI for eleven years."
"Oh," Brown announced with genuine trepidation.
"If you have a few minutes, I'd like to ask you some questions."
Brown didn't respond, he simply turned and started down the path. Steveken fell in beside him. "Judge Brown, I'm going to be blunt with you. I followed some of your cases while you were on the bench. I know that you ran your courtroom by the book. You had a reputation for being very hard on the Bureau."
