Chapter 18

It was all Phillip and Kendra could do to keep from laughing, but they knew neither of the other two would understand or appreciate it, so they managed to control themselves. Instead, Kendra said, "Abby, is your car here?"

"Oh, yes. Well, it's a pickup truck, really. I don't drive into D.C., I take the Metro, but I did bring my truck from Nebraska."

"Do you feel calm enough to drive yourself, or would you rather someone drove you home?"

"I don't want to impose…."

"It's no imposition; if you're shaken up, I'll be happy to drive you. Are you living in the Highlands Apartments?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I was a Fellow. My parents live here in Arlington, so I didn't live in the apartments, but I had friends that did."

"Well, that's where I live, in a three-bedroom with two other girls."

"How is that working out for you?" Phillip asked. "I was a Fellow too, before I came on staff, but since my parents also live in Arlington, I commuted just like Kendra did. "

"I don't want to get anyone into trouble," Abby said.

"Miss Kozal, if your roommates are doing something that's illegal, you have a right to report it. In fact, you have an obligation to report it," Jamie said.

"Well, that's the problem, Mr. King; I don't have proof. They come back to the apartment sometimes really drunk and smelling of pot, but I don't know if they were driving and actually smoking the joints, you know? They could have just been hanging out with people that were smoking the stuff."

"You allow potheads to work as interns in your Foundation, Phillip?" Jamie asked.

"No, we don't. They all have to pass a drug test when they apply and we do random drug testing through the course of the summer," Phillip said shortly, clearly annoyed at Jamie's confrontational words.

"Well, obviously, it's a little too random. What's the procedure for getting someone like Miss Kozal out of that situation?"

"There isn't one. Assignments are made for the summer, and they can't be changed."

"Well, that just s- stinks. If you can't fix it, I sure as hell can."

He reached for the mobile phone that was clipped to his belt, dialed a number, and said, " Hi, Lee. It's Jamie. I've got a situation here and need some help." Briefly, he told Lee what had happened and what Abby had told them about her roommate situation. "My brother tells me that the housing arrangements can't be changed. Until we get this fixed, would you and Mom be willing to let her live with you? Oh, thanks."

"Who is he talking to?" Abby asked, puzzled.

"Our stepfather, Lee Stetson. He's director of field operations for the Federal Counterintelligence Agency," Phillip replied.

"Spies?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Actually, we don't say 'spy', Miss Kozal," Jamie said. "Can you pack up and move out tonight, if Phillip and Kendra and I help you? You can stay with my parents until we get this resolved."

"Move tonight? Sure, I don't have much to pack up, but isn't that awfully short notice? Is that okay with your mother?"

"My mother is an agent too, Miss Kozal; she's fine with it."

"Oh, my."

"Who knew that a simple jogging outing would have you meeting the Spy Family?" Phillip said.

"Are you …"

"No, I'm just a policy wonk at the Foundation. Three spies in the family is plenty. It's not my scene. Kendra here is, though."

"Oh, my. "

Jamie finished his call and put the phone away. "That's settled, then. Lee's going to make some calls, see if we can get to the bottom of this, but until your pot-smoking roommates are out of the program, Miss Kozal, you can stay with our parents. They have a five-bedroom house with a full finished basement besides, and only three of those bedrooms are currently occupied. Let's get moving. I can explain more on the way."

Jamie took point, leaving the other three to walk behind him.

"Phillip, who's in the other two bedrooms?" she asked.

"My younger half-brother and sister. Bobby is nine and Emily is seven. Mom and our dad, Joe King, divorced fifteen years ago, and about a year after that, Mom met Lee and started working for the Agency part-time, just running errands and typing reports at first. About three years after they met, they got engaged, and a few months later, they got married, only nobody knew about it because of security concerns. In July 1987 the situation changed – long story – and they went public with the marriage. Mom sold the house we were all living in to our grandmother and her second husband, who has since passed away, and bought the house on Elmwood. There were three of us kids then – me, Jamie, and our adopted sister Leeanne- but they wanted room for expansion, so they bought a very big house."

"I hope you like kids, Miss Kozal," Jamie said, over his shoulder.

"I love kids, Mr. King. I'm the middle child of five, and I've been babysitting to earn spending money since I was thirteen. Starting when I was in high school, I helped my mom teach religious education classes, and while I was in school in Lincoln, I worked as an aide at my parish elementary school a couple of days a week to earn extra money. So yes, I like kids."

They reached the parking lot and Abby said, "That Ford F-150 is mine. It's an '85, but my dad completely overhauled the engine, so it's good as new. We drove it all the way out here from Nebraska and it ran like a champ. My roommates call it the 'Hayseed Mobile', but it's really the Cornhusker Mobile, because we're the University of Nebraska Cornhuskers, you know."

"Have they been hassling you about your Nebraska roots all this time?" Jamie asked.

"Well, yes. They're from Boston and Philadelphia, you see, and they come from very affluent families. My family isn't poor, but my dad is an auto mechanic, and my mom teaches parochial school."

"Can't say I think much of the selection process for your foundation's interns, Phillip," Jamie said.

"You've made that very clear. Can we get this show on the road, please?" Phillip said shortly.

Jamie and Phillip got into Jamie's classic BMW as Abby fished her truck key out of the jogging wallet she had strapped to her arm and unlocked the truck before getting in and sliding across to the passenger side. "It's automatic, as you can see," she said.

"I can drive a stick shift too, but this is fine. Let's get going."