By Casi McLean
Deep State Mysteries Book #2
Cartel, Corruption, and Chaos … Can a Ghost Tame Her Rage To Exact Revenge?
Blurb:
When her fiancé is injured in Afghanistan, Harper Drake immerses herself in the military. Now, as NCIS Director, she heads a secret faction, fighting corruption and terrorism–until she’s abducted by a trafficking cartel.
Wyatt Rose can’t overcome his loss–especially after his sister’s murder. When the New Patriots recruit him, he finds a traumatized girl that spirals him down a rabbit hole of conspiracy, drug smugglers, and slavery.
Obsessed with revenge, can a ghost save Wyatt and Harper before her rage explodes, or will she spin them all through the gates of Hell?
When Revenge Sparks Danger – Karma is Hell!
Watch The Trailer
The List: Alyssa’s Revenge
Chapter One
Hearing the doorlatch click closed, Hanna slid the handcuffs off her thin wrists, stood, then tiptoed across the cold, cement floor. She peered through the cracked window and saw him drive away.
“Is Damien gone?”
Hanna nodded then turned toward the voice.
“It’s dark so make sure he’s not testing us again.” The young girl, still shackled to a plumbing pipe under the sink, trembled. She drew her knees to her chest then wrapped her free arm around them.
Hanna wiped a tear from her cheek, scooted across the concrete floor then knelt beside her. Yanking at the child’s handcuffs, she whispered, “I don’t want to leave you here.”
Sarah forced a haggard smile. No longer did her eyes sparkle with the innocence of a thirteen-year-old child. Like windows into her shattered soul, her gaze seemed cold and hollow.
Hanna’s heart broke every time she thought of the abuse Sarah had already survived.
When her family moved to El Paso, Texas, Sarah’s shy nature left her feeling like an outsider. Her super social parents never understood why Sarah had difficulty making friends. “It’s easy, Sarah. Just put yourself out there. Talk to people,” her mother advised. But Sarah didn’t know what to say…until Dylan caught up to her walking home one afternoon. An older boy paying attention to Sarah delighted her. Finally, someone noticed her, talked to and made her feel normal. Thrilled at the changes they saw in their daughter, her parents encouraged the friendship.
Every weekday before school, Dylan met her at the street corner and walked her to class and each afternoon he’d escort her home. Over the next few months, he charmed her, gave her thoughtful gifts, told her how beautiful she was––and said he loved her. On her birthday, he invited her to a concert at The Plaza Theater. Sarah was over the moon…but her parents weren’t.
The extravagant venue made them suspicious of Dylan’s intentions. After a shower of questions turned into a huge fight––resulting in a month’s restriction and forbidding her from seeing Dylan––Sarah texted him, snuck out that night––and her life spun into Hell. Dylan delivered her to Diablo. Betrayed and terrified, she watched as the slave-trader dealt him $1,000 cash.
Smiling, Dylan winked. “Thanks, kiddo.” Then he turned and strolled away, counting his stash.
Though Diablo held her captive for a week as they drove to Atlanta, he didn’t harm her. She ate well, received nice clothes, and he never laid a hand on her.
“A lot of big-spenders will come for the Super Bowl. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty like you will easily bring in $400 or more for a half hours work.” He rubbed his hands together. “And a hefty profit for me.” He chuckled.
Hanna had heard a similar hype from Damien, but her abduction wasn’t quite as elaborately calculated. Known as Atlanta’s premier shopping mall, Phipps Plaza drew high-end customers, so Hanna’s parents never dreamed danger lurked in their own neighborhood. Hanna, along with Abby and Rachel, her two besties, simply went to the movies on a Saturday afternoon like typical fourteen-year-old teenagers. Afterward, the girls strolled around the mall. They had just left Nordstrom’s when Hanna needed to use the bathroom.
“I’m good.” Abby turned to Rachel. “I’ll just wander through the jewelry store if you want to go with.”
“Ohhh, I love that store. You go ahead, Hanna. We’ll hang here until you get back.”
“I’ll be quick.” Hanna rushed past two men’s shops then turned left down a short hallway to the ladies’ room. Who would have thought that single decision would change her life forever?
At first glance, the bathroom appeared empty. She never saw the man hiding in the stall. Once she finished her business, she placed her purse on the counter and washed her hands then turned to grab a paper towel. A heartbeat later, a hand slid around her waist and another cupped over her mouth and nose with a cloth that smelled like the worms in her biology class. She squirmed, kicked, and tried to bite him until everything went black.
She woke up with a headache, cuffed to a bed in a hotel room, a swatch of duct tape stuck to her mouth. Kidnapped December 28th, she’d been with Damien ever since. Hanna wasn’t sure what day of the week it was today, let alone the date, but she knew the month…December. She could scarcely believe she’d lived in his stable for two years. But she’d never forget the day she disappeared…only three days after Christmas. Had her parents searched for her? Had they given up? How many times had she wondered how long Abby and Rachel waited before looking for her? Did they find her purse…how had they told her parents?
After the Super Bowl, Damien moved all his “children” to the Washington D.C. suburbs. McLean, Virginia to be precise, where the CIA’s main offices reside. All summer, Damien hid his stable right under their noses. Now, paired two to a room, his victims resided, cuffed inside their prison in the basement of a boathouse. Closed for the season, the abandoned facility lay beneath an expressway bridge, where no one would hear their cries for help. It mattered little where the stable relocated. Damien auctioned his young boys and girls on the dark web to the highest local bidders. Diablo hadn’t lied when he told Sarah her services would go for four-hundred dollars or more per half hour. Damien must have raked in a fortune.
Hanna shook her head and brushed away a random tear trickling down her cheek. “Try again, Sarah. Squeeze your hand as small as you can…like this.” Holding out her palm, she maneuvered her thumb toward her pinky until the joint popped. “That’s right.” She snatched the handcuffs and held them firm. “Now pull…harder…harder.”
Tears streaming, Sarah tried again with no results. “My fingers can’t do that.” She yanked and tugged at the cuffs then shook her head. “It’s no use. I can’t get loose and it hurts when I try to fold my hand like yours.”
Hanna frowned. “As much as he hurts you?”
She shook her head and tried again. “I can’t get free. You’ve got to go, now, Hanna. Before he comes back. You can get help and bring the police here.”
“But Damien said if one of us leaves, he’d kill the one left behind. You’ve got to come with me.”
“If you don’t find help, we’ll stay imprisoned in this Hell forever. You are our only chance to escape.” She offered a pleading expression. “You’ll come back for me. I promise I’ll stay alive until you do.” She held out her pinky toward Hanna. “Sister’s forever?”
Throat burning at the thought of leaving Sarah behind, Hanna linked her little finger with Sarah’s. “Sister’s forever.” She gave her a long, tight hug then returned to the window. Blinking back watering eyes, she peered outside. Seeing no one, she took off her shirt and wrapped it around her fist then turned to Sarah. “You’ll be colder with the window broken.”
“I know. We talked about this. I’ll be fine. Hurry now.”
Hanna averted her eyes to protect them from the shattering glass then slammed her fist into the window. The crack gave way, spitting splinters everywhere. She pressed against the lingering shards to break off the jagged glass then draped her tee-shirt over the rough edges and hoisted her body up and over the casing before sliding to the ground outside. Free…she was free…but for how long? She yanked her shirt from the window, shook it several times then put it on. Tiny slivers still bit her back, but she was free…that’s all that mattered. Barefoot, she made her way across the boatyard. Canoes and kayaks lined the shore, all fastened securely.
Moonbeams reflecting off the river twinkled like stars. She gazed across the water and saw in the distance, a stream of headlights racing through the night. A highway? To her right, a large bridge forged across the Potomac, and to the left, a canal lined by a path reached into the darkness beyond.
A car slowed in front of the building, and Hanna’s attention flew into alert. She dropped to the ground and crawled until she slipped around the side. Cautiously, she edged closer to the river then crouched next to a stone structure decorated with graffiti. Trembling from both the cold and fear, she slid into the brush then curled into a ball and prayed. Dear Father in Heaven…please help me…help me save Sarah. Lowering her head, she finally let her pent-up tears escape.
“Don’t cry, sweetie.”
Cowering, Hanna snapped around, her arms shielding her face from the beating she knew came next.
“I won’t hurt you.”
The voice sounded so gentle and sincere. Hanna lowered her arms, eyes still squeezed shut, she pried them open a slit to see a beautiful woman kneeling beside her. “Who are you?”
“I saw you scurrying across the boatyard, looking as if you needed help.” She held out an arm, hand splayed toward Hanna. “What’s your name?”
Cautiously, she glanced around, searching for Damien or any potential threat, then timidly reached for the woman’s arm. “Hanna.”
“That’s a lovely name. Is someone chasing you? Are you running away? You look terrified.”
The woman’s long dark hair reminded Hanna of dark chocolate, a pleasant memory she hadn’t thought about in a long time. “Why are you wandering outside so late at night and all alone?”
The woman chuckled. “I was about to ask you the same question. If you’re in danger, please, let me help you.” She grasped Hanna’s wrist and tugged, drawing her from her hiding place.
Her first instinct was to run…but how far could she go, barefoot and dressed in nothing more than one of Damien’s huge tee-shirts? Keeping his stable two to a room, shoeless, and scantily dressed was one more trick he used to make sure they stayed put.
Hanna eyed the woman with a scrutinizing glare. Where had she come from? No one had been lurking around the boatyard, had they? Again, she questioned her own instincts.
“You’re trembling.” The woman rubbed her hands over Hanna’s upper arms. “You’re running from someone, am I right? Someone who’s hurt you?”
She nodded. “He has my sister locked away. He’ll kill her if I don’t find help soon.” Hanna shifted her gaze to the building now about one hundred yards away, then again to the woman. “I don’t think you and I alone could rescue my sister. Can you take me to the police…or call 911 on your cell phone?”
“I know it sounds lame, but I lost my cell phone in the river, and I’m abandoned here with no car either…but here” ––she took off her royal blue coat and draped it over Hanna’s shoulders––”take my wrap. It will keep you warm until you find someone to help you.”
“No, I couldn’t take your coat. You’re stranded here in the cold, too.”
“I insist.” The woman placed her palms on Hanna’s shoulders. “I’ll be fine, and you will too if you do exactly as I say. Do you think you can do that?”
Again, she nodded, hope rising.
“Go behind the building there, where you see the canoes.” She pointed.
“No.” Hanna shrank away. “That’s where Damien is. I can’t go back there.”
“You can, and you will, for your sister’s sake if not your own, you must trust me.”
“But you don’t understand. I––”
The woman’s expression softened, and she squeezed Hanna’s hand. “I understand so much more than you know. I will get you the help you need, but you must follow my instructions precisely. Can you do that?”
Pausing, she considered her options. The woman’s voice, so steady, strong, and confident, Hanna wasn’t sure why, but she did trust her. Slowly, Hanna nodded.
“Good. Now, you see the clump of trees by the shore just beyond the rows of boats?”
Stretching her neck, she peered around the kayaks and canoes. “Yes. I see them, but––”
“When you get there, you’ll find an untethered canoe floating in the weeds. Get into the boat and push off the shore. The current will take you to safety.”
“How do you know? I can’t see a thing from here and if I go back to the boathouse, Damien will kill me and maybe come searching for you, too.” She couldn’t stop shivering now, dreading what that terrible man would do to her.
“Don’t worry about me. Think about you and your sister. Now go. Hurry. Crouch down in the canoe until you hit land. You’ll find help there, I promise.”
Hanna turned and ran then halted. Looking over her shoulder, she briefly pressed her lips together then spoke softly. “I don’t even know your name.”
The woman smiled. “Alyssa…”
“Thank you…Alyssa.” She turned and sprinted as fast as her bare feet would allow toward the clump of trees.
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Also, By Casi McLean:
Lake Lanier Mysteries
A Time Travel Romantic Suspense Series
Beneath the Lake ~ Beyond the Mist ~ Between the Shadows
Beneath The Lake won 2016 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence for BEST Romantic Suspense.
Watch All My Trailers And Follow Me On My NEW YouTube Channel!
Destiny Series
Five Novelettes With A Twist
Destiny ~ The Gift ~ After Midnight ~ Convergent ~ The Pegasus Chronicles
To give you a sneak peek of my stories, I’ve included some blurbs and excerpts below. Enjoy.
Lake Lanier Mysteries
Beneath the Lake Won 2016 Best Romantic Suspense, Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence. The story was inspired by the freak accidents, strange phenomena, and eerie lore attached to Atlanta’s man-made Lake Sidney Lanier.
But what if the excavation created more than a lake? What if explosions triggered a seismic shift that created a portal connecting past to future? Lake Lanier Mysteries evolved from that premise.
Time Travel, Mystery, Thriller, Romantic Suspense with Supernatural Elements.
Book # 1
Beneath The Lake
Buy now on your country’s Amazon: mybook.to/BeneathTheLake
Audible Buy Link: https://adbl.co/2kSG5HL
Blurb
A ghost town, buried beneath Atlanta’s famous man-made Lake Lanier, reportedly lures victims into a watery grave. But when Lacey Montgomery’s car spins out of control and hurtles into the depths of the icy water, she awakens in the arms of a stranger, in a town she’s never heard of––34 yearsbeforeshe was born.
When the 2012 lawyer tangles with a 1949 hunk, fire and ice swirl into a stream of sweltering desire. Bobby Reynolds is smitten the moment the storm-ravaged woman opens her eyes and, despite adamant protest, Lacey falls in love with a town destined for extinction, and the man who vows to save his legacy.
Threatened by a nefarious stalker, the wrath of bootleggers, and twists of fate, Lacey must find the key to a mysterious portal before time rips the lovers apart, leaving their star-crossed spirits to wander forever through a ghost town buried beneath the lake.
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Lake Lanier, Georgia–June 2011
A final thud hurled him backward, flailing through brush and thickets like a rag doll. Grasping at anything to break momentum, Rob’s hand clung to a branch wedged into the face of the precipice. Spiny splinters sliced his skin. Blood oozed and trickled into his palms, and one by one, his fingers slowly slipped.
A sharp crack echoed through the silence of the ravine as the bough succumbed to his weight. He plummeted into free-fall. Clenching his eyes, he drew in a deep breath, terrified of the pain, the mauling that waited on the jagged rocks below.
When icy water broke his fall, the chill kept him from losing consciousness. He spun, straining to see, but darkness enveloped him. Soggy clothing pulled him deeper–deeper into the murky, fathomless depths. He wrestled to squirm free from the waterlogged jacket dragging him down to a watery grave, watched the coat disappear into black obscurity. Panic gripped his stomach, or was it death that snaked around his chest, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing the air, the life from his body? Lack of oxygen burned his lungs, beckoning surrender, and a shard of rage pierced his gut as reality set in. He lunged upward with one last thrust and burst from the water’s deadly grip, gasping for air. A gurgling howl spewed from the depths of his soul and echoed into silence.
Sunlight shimmered across a smooth, indigo lake, but aside from the slight ripples of his own paddling, nothing but stillness surrounded him. He floated toward the shore, sucking deep breaths into his lungs until the pummeling in his chest subsided. When he reached the water’s edge, he hoisted his body onto the soft red clay and collapsed while the sun’s warmth drained the tension from his body.
No one knew he had survived. The rules had shifted. Now he could reinvent himself, become a stealth predator. His target: Lacey Madison Montgomery.
Lake Lanier Mysteries
Book # 2
Beyond The Mist
Buy now on your country’s Amazon: http://myBook.to/BeyondTheMist
Audible Buy Link: https://adbl.co/2kSyHw2
Blurb
When a treacherous storm spirals Piper Taylor into the arms of Nick Cramer, an intriguing lawyer, she never expected to fall in love. But when he disappears, she risks her life to find him; unaware the search would thrust her into international espionage, terrorism, and the space-time continuum.
Nick leads a charmed life except when it comes to his heart. Haunted by a past relationship, he can’t move forward with Piper despite the feelings she evokes. When he stumbles upon a secret portal hidden beneath Atlanta’s Lake Lanier, he seizes the chance to correct his mistakes.
A slip through time has consequences beyond their wildest dreams. Can Piper find Nick and bring him home before he alters the fabric of time, or will the lovers drift forever Beyond The Mist?
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Lake Lanier, GA June 2012
A soft mist hovered over the moonlit lake, beckoning, luring him forward with the seductive enticement of a mermaid’s song. The rhythmic clatter of a distant train moaned in harmony with a symphony of cricket chirps and croaking frogs. Mesmerized, Nick Cramer took a long breath and waded deeper into the murky cove. Dank air, laden with a scent of soggy earth and pine crawled across his bare arms. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled, shooting a prickle slithering around his spine into an icy pool quivering in the pit of his abdomen. Shots of fiery energy electrified his senses, thousands of needles spewed venom into his chest until his stomach heaved and rancid bile choked into his throat. He clenched his fingers into a tight fist, determined to fight through the fear now consuming him.
I can do this––he forged ahead––only a few more steps and––a sudden surge swirled around him, yanking him into a whirling vortex; a violent blue haze dragged him deeper, deeper beneath the lake into the shadowy depths. Heart pounding, he battled against the force, twisting, pulling back toward the surface with all his strength but, despite his muscular build, he spun like a feather in the wind into oblivion. When the mist dissolved, Nick Cramer had vanished.
Lake Lanier Mysteries
Book # 3
Between The Shadows
Buy now on your country’s Amazon: mybook.to/BetweenTheShadows
Audible Buy Link: https://adbl.co/2mptlJh
Blurb
Thrust back in time, Kenzi never expected to confront deadly villains––let alone fall in love with one.
After her friend, York, encounters the ghostly image of a young woman, Mackenzie Reynolds seizes the opportunity to initiate a time jump, thrusting them back to 1865 Georgia. Resolved to thwart the girl’s untimely fate, Kenzi stumbles into a deadly conflict over a stockpile of stolen Confederate gold.
An injured Civil War survivor, James Adams departs for home with a war-fatigued companion he’s determined to help. After pilfering a horse and kidnapping a woman, he never dreamed his hostage would steal his heart.
Kenzi and James must unravel a deadly plot, while helping York save his ghost woman from a brutal death. But can she leave York in a violent past to save James’s life?
A Gripping Novel By USA Today Bestselling Author, Casi McLean
Excerpt
“Don’t you dare die on me, James Adams.”
Kenzi pressed a wad of blood-soaked gauze against his abdomen. “I won’t lose you. Not now.”
Barely clinging to life, the man opened his eyes a slit, raised the gun still tightly gripped in his hand and shot off a round.
Stunned, she snapped around. “No.” Screaming, she dove for the barrel through a hazy blue mist.
Again, the gun rang out as the patient fell unconscious.
“Help. Someone, please help”.
A muted voice murmured from beyond the fog. “Dr. Reynolds? Is that you?”
Her frantic reply cried out, “Yes, of course it’s me. Hurry. He’s bleeding out.”
“Brady…” James’s voice faded as he slipped into semiconscious mumbling.
Yanking the pistol from his grip with her right hand, she maintained pressure with her left. A heartbeat later, the cylinder encasing them rotated open. Kenzi stood then sprinted across the room past an attendant then pounded on a fist-sized alert button affixed to the wall. The resulting alarm shrieked through the underground chamber, reverberating as it radiated throughout the compound. A second man dressed in a white jumpsuit burst through double doors.
“Gurney. Now.” Kenzi screamed at both attendants. “And O-Neg blood. Hurry. Go, go, go.” She ran to James and knelt beside him. Lifting his head, she slid a knee underneath it for support and smoothed a chunk of his dark brown hair from his face. “I’ve sacrificed way too much to have you die now,” she whispered. “My ass will burn for this. Not to mention the repercussions for abandoning York.”
Pulse racing, she checked his bandage. Despite her efforts, streams of crimson still oozed from the wound. Pressing again on the gauze, she shook her head. “Oh God. I have no idea what blood type you are, but you should tolerate O-negative.” She pressed harder on his wound. “Jesus help you, James. You’ve lost so much blood. Just please, hang on.”
Again, the double doors swung wide. This time, a gurney pushed through, followed by the two men. One ran to Kenzi’s side.
“Help me lift him.” Her hands, slick with blood, shot to her white T-top, already drenched in crimson. On a second thought, she swept them down the rear of her jeans. Then, sliding her slippery arms beneath his back, she braced her stance with one bent knee.
“One, two, three.” They heaved him in tandem onto the gurney. She snatched a bottle of Betadine from the attached supply basket and doused her hands then splashed more on James’s forearm, grasped an IV and punctured a vein on the inside of his wrist with the sterile needle. Once connected, she hooked the blood pouch on the IV pole and barked at the team, “Let’s move. If this man bleeds out, there will be hell to pay.”
The men, poised with hands on the side of the rails, awaited their next move. “Where to, Dr. Reynolds?”
Kenzi stared at James’s ashen face, worried her meager experience wasn’t enough to save his life––but she had no option. “Surgery.”
Springing into action, one man rolled the gurney down the hallway, while a second leapt onto the base and slipped an oxygen mask over James’s nose and mouth. “I hope this guy isn’t allergic to Propofol.” He attached an anesthesia drip to the IV. “Judas Priest. What happened to him to cause such a gaping wound?”
“He was shot…with a musket.”
Deep State Mysteries
book # 1
Reign of Fire
Buy now on your Amazon: mybook.to/ReignOfFire
Audible buy link: https://adbl.co/2kSyHw2
Blurb
To expose a faction threatening America’s democracy, Emily Rose joins forces with a team investigating her sister’s murder, but she never expects to fall in love––or to encounter her twin’s ghost.
Ashton Frasier accepts his detective career choice means a life of bachelorhood––until Emily Rose blows into his world.
Surrounded by danger with the country’s democracy at stake, Emily and Ash must protect the White House while taming their mysterious burning passion––lit by cunning spirit with good intentions.
Can a ghost spark love in the midst of chaos?
Excerpt
Chapter One
Alyssa Rose shifted her gaze in every direction, searching for suspicious bystanders. Her cloak-and-dagger cover had her exit the Capitol through the door next to the ladies’ room. The out-of-character detour might have been an insignificant detail, but evading possible surveillance made her breathe easier. Walking east of the Capitol altered her routine, so a side trip to this particular mail drop provided a prime spot to send her letter under the radar.
Trembling as she approached her destination, she scrutinized everyone, zeroing in on their eyes. If she observed someone with a shifty gaze or noticed an unusual glance in her direction, she’d walk past the postal box and circle back later. No one could see her mail this letter.
Taking a deep breath, she slid the envelope from beneath her coat, ran her finger across the address then quickly slipped the letter into the mailbox at the corner of Independence and Pennsylvania. A cold chill slithered around her neck, shooting pins and needles in every direction before tightening the knot already twisting in her stomach. Drawing together the lapels of her royal-blue coat, she snatched the soft cashmere and cast one more glance around before striding across Pennsylvania toward 2nd Street.
The icy tingle numbing Alyssa to the bone had little to do with the cool March weather. The crisp air might have exacerbated the sensation, but her accidental discovery initiated the anxiety, and she couldn’t erase the images seared into her mind. If anyone discovered what she saw, her very life would be in jeopardy. God, she wished she could un-know what now dominated her thoughts.
Only a few weeks ago, Alyssa lived a blissful life of naiveté. Her family reared her to hold dear the advantages her country bestowed, and when her senior field trip took the class to Williamsburg, Virginia, she experienced a strong sense of patriotism that continued to blossom.
Wyatt, her brother, fanned the fire blazing in her belly. Despite his horrendous accident in Afghanistan, his love for country burned eternal. If anything, the explosion that took his legs fanned the flames, and he encouraged Alyssa to use her skills to fight for a better country from within the body that created the laws. An intern job would help her learn policy to springboard to a political profession and open doors where she could make a real difference.
She worked her butt off long and hard to secure a spot in this program. A budding Intern for Congressman Derek Winfield, Alyssa saw this job as her big chance. Granted, the position seemed mundane, if not ridiculous. She simply walked in, picked up a pile of messages and dispersed them to offices on The Hill accordingly.
Email would have been a lot easier and faster. At first, she thought the task was a newbie-only job assigned to interns, forcing them to learn the lay of the land. But Derek explained email messages were traceable. They were etched into hard drives and nearly impossible to erase.
So, for the time being interoffice mail delivery was her job and a rung of the ladder she’d be happy to pass on when the time came. Until then, she didn’t mind starting her career at the bottom rung of the ladder. The mailroom had its perks. Playing courier allowed her to walk historic streets and take in the ambiance, imagining the town during different eras and all the presidents who once strolled on antiquated roads beneath her.
Her innocent walks around Capitol Hill mingled business with pleasure. Ear buds firmly tucked in place, she listened to her favorite mix, while chalking up her health goal of ten thousand-steps. The bustle between L’Enfant Plaza and the Capitol energized her. Wide-eyed, she relished the inspiration America’s forefathers instilled––until the dreadful day an arbitrary Starbucks patron collided with her as he bolted into the store. Memories swirling, her mind replayed the fateful day in a 24/7 constant loop. How could such an innocent random event spiral into this very real nightmare?
Purse slung over her shoulder, with a tray of coffee orders in one hand and a stack of to-be-delivered messages in the other, Alyssa had no control as her balancing act flew into the air, leaving a deluge of coffee-splattered, mocha-scented letters cluttering the entrance. “No, no, no.” After flinging her hands, she snatched a pile of napkins and frowned at the mess surrounding her. She drew in a deep breath. Indignation seething inside, she clenched a fist to repress her reaction to a simmer.
“Son of a bitch.” The dark-haired man’s attention dropped to his camelhair coat. Brushing off coffee beads to keep them from soaking into his lapel, he flashed a gaze toward Alyssa, offering a lame apology. “Sorry. This mess is totally on me.”
A tinge of satisfaction befell her, as she eyed his splattered attire. “I can see that.” She chuckled.
He followed her line of vision and glanced downward. “Perfect.” Grabbing more napkins, he cleaned whipped cream from his shoes then wiped his pants before noticing a sizable blotch on the pocket of his camelhair. “Damn it.” Tugging off the coat, he draped it across the side of the condiment stand and reached for an arbitrary towel clumped into a mound beside him, then pressed on the stain. Not until he appeared to be satisfied with his own results, did he return his attention to Alyssa, now squatting beside him, cleaning the coffee puddle. “Here, let me help you.”
She rolled her eyes but said nothing, although her thoughts rebuked him. It’s about damn time you focused on the chaos you caused…
The stranger knelt with towel in hand and sloshed it around in the pool of coffee, making the mess exponentially worse, while Alyssa fought to keep her boiling frustration at bay. Shifting her gaze to her scattered and smothered envelopes, she turned and duck-walked, gathering them into a drenched pile. She clenched her jaw, then shook and examined each packet, an effort that did little more to minimize the damage than changing splotches to dribbles.
When an attendant came to the rescue and began mopping the floor, the stranger stood, retrieved his coat, and draped it over an arm. “Damn. Can this day get any worse?” He glanced at his watch. “Son of a––now, I’m running late.” Turning toward Alyssa, he reached into his back pocket and drew out a business card then handed it to her. “Take this. I’ll pay your dry-cleaning bill. Just shoot me an email.” Instead of buying a coffee, he smacked open the door and rushed outside, quickly disappearing into the busy crowd.
Alyssa’s last nerve had her grinding her teeth as she inspected her own coat for stains. Surprised her clothing escaped the coffee cascade, she stuffed the man’s proffer into her pocket without even glancing at his name. She felt a bit atoned that the bulk of the mess splashed over him as opposed to her. But a quick glance at her letters doused the brief restitution. Again, she blotted the notes in her charge in an attempt to salvage them, hoping the incident wouldn’t cost her job.
When the attendant finished mopping the floor, he asked if he could remake her order.
Alyssa nodded and thanked him, still wiping her mess. Why did the collision have to happen to her? She cussed the arrogant man under her breath. How dare he blow her off after causing the incident?
Instead of the attendant, a manager returned to the scene with a carryout tray of fresh coffee. “This batch is on the house. I saw that whole scenario go down.” He shook his head. “That guy could have at least helped you with your mail, since he was the reason your envelopes were soiled.”
“Thank you so much.” Alyssa appreciatively took the order. “I’m sorry to make such a mess.”
The manager shrugged. “Hey, you did nothing wrong. No worries. Stuff happens.”
“Tell that to my boss.” Rolling her eyes, Alyssa splayed the pile of notes in her hand. “How can I deliver these to senators and congressmen?” Heat raged in her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut for a long beat, resisting the march of berating anger clenching her stomach. True, the accident wasn’t her fault, but if she hadn’t been so engrossed in listening to her music, she might have seen the man busting through the door and avoided the mishap altogether.
The manager smiled and raised an eyebrow. “The damage looks superficial. Maybe you could just replace the envelopes?” He gazed at the soggy array. “Look, the coffee didn’t stain the addresses beyond recognition, and I doubt the damage seeped through to the inside messages.”
“Perhaps…” Alyssa’s frown faded as she inspected the notes and considered his idea. “You might be right. Thanks.” If she hurried to her office and simply switched the envelopes, she could deliver the messages with only a slight delay…no one would be the wiser. Gathering her paperwork and coffee, she rushed outside then scurried to her office, assured the plan just might save her ass.
In theory, the switch was a no-brainer. She never dreamed one instinctual cover-your-ass choice could threaten her life. Opening the coffee-stained envelopes and switching the notes to identical, deliverable packets seemed the perfect solution––until she discovered the one note never intended for delivery…the note that validated the existence of a shadow government.
Geez, if only she hadn’t opened that wretched letter. She gasped the moment she saw an immediate burn order splashed in red across the top of the page above a simple title: The List. As she read on, she swallowed hard, her breath catching in her throat. She had no idea how deep the faction went, or which treasonous federal officials would be revealed once the list was decoded.
Racking her brain, she couldn’t recall where the delivery had come from. She couldn’t remember picking it up from any of the offices. But she had to admit her mindless deliveries rarely demanded her undivided attention. Still, the envelope was smaller than the others, and it didn’t carry the standard Federal Government insignia.
A loud honking from a car speeding through the traffic signal brought her thoughts back to the moment. Dear God. The last thing she needed was a jolt to boost her adrenaline.
Biting the edge of her bottom lip, Alyssa shoved her trembling hands into her pockets and picked up her pace, rationalizing her decision. She didn’t intend to snoop that day. She simply couldn’t deliver soggy, damaged mail and expect no one would notice. An entry-level job meant no demotions existed. If she didn’t perform up to expectations, firing was the only alternative. Her priority…she had to save her dream-job.
Slowing her pace, she entered the Capitol Rotunda and gazed at the vast marvel surrounding her. How did her dream morph into the nightmare now clenching her throat in a stranglehold…a nightmare from which she couldn’t awaken? She shuddered. Not in her wildest dreams had she ever expected the politicized bureaucrats and pundits on Capitol Hill would swallow her whole.
Discovering an encrypted list had her bursting at the seams to tell someone. How could she simply ignore the message and let the powers that be sweep their dirty little secrets under a politicized rug? But who could she turn to or believe in enough to provide solid advice? Anyone could be involved in this “Association.” For weeks, trust no one had been her mantra. But each passing day had her more convinced someone lurked in the shadows, watching her every move, and the paranoia smothered her with feelings of impending doom.
Fiddling with the locket around her neck, she thought about her twin…the only person Alyssa truly trusted, aside from her brother. Emily had a sixth sense that seemed to guide her decisions. She would know whether to pass along the secret list or burn it.
Several times over the last three weeks, Alyssa started to call Emily, and each time she stopped short of pushing Send. Derek taught his intern well. If “The Association” tailed Alyssa, her phone would likely be bugged, too. The thought of putting her twin in danger clamped Alyssa’s stomach like a coiling snake squeezing until she couldn’t breathe. A letter sent from a random mail drop would go undetected. She’d wait until the two could meet. In the meantime, Alyssa would lay low, do her job, and avoid confrontation.
Glancing at her watch, she realized the late hour. Another workday drew to an end, and she’d need to rush if she wanted to catch her train home. Exiting at the rear of the Capitol Rotunda, she again tightened the grasp on her coat collar, wishing she’d remembered to grab the blue and white scarf she usually wore on windy mornings. The chill within her deepened as she strode the same route, she had walked every day for the past year. West on Independence to the L’Enfant Plaza Metro Station where she caught the Silver train line to McLean, Virginia. From there, she drove home.
Arriving just in time to catch her shuttle, she drew in a deep breath and stepped from the platform into the train. When the door closed, she squeezed her eyes tightly then released the pressure to relax the pinch twisting in the back of her neck. Once she knew Emily received her message, Alyssa felt sure together they could devise a plan to end her nightmare. She leaned back in her seat deep in thought, feeling thankful she survived another day––looking past a dark, hooded figure hunched only a few seats away.