Francine watched as Michael's car disappeared into the midday Georgetown traffic. Amanda was right; Michael didn't lie to me about why he went to New York. There could be a reasonable explanation for why he was here instead of being trapped at his desk all day. I want to believe in him, but every time I've been on the brink of being truly happy something goes wrong. She sat up straight in her seat, and looked at her eyes in the rearview mirror. The confusion, fear and pain that she saw reflected there took her breath away momentarily. She closed her eyes, took several deep breaths, and when she opened her eyes it was the ice queen that many of her coworkers were so familiar with that was looking back at her.
Grabbing her handbag, she slipped from the car and strode purposefully into the two story building that housed the lobbying firm. Entering the lobby, she scanned the directory and noted that the only businesses listed were lobbyists. She quickly located the office of the firm that had been mentioned by both of the senators she'd just spoken to. The moment that she entered the office, she was greeted by a receptionist who looked like a much younger version of herself.
"Hello, Mr. Brooks and Mr. Thomson are in a meeting, do you have an appointment?" The young woman began to flip through the pages of a day planner on her desk before Francine could open her mouth.
"No, I don't have an appointment but I'm sure they'll fit me in…it would be in their best interest." She placed her hand on the day planner so that the other woman would look up at her.
"I'm sorry, but they don't see anyone without an appointment; perhaps they could fit you in next week?"
"That won't do." Francine removed her Agency ID from her handbag and flashed it at the surprised receptionist. "Perhaps you should tell them that I'm here because I won't leave until I've spoken to them. They might find it a trifle embarrassing if I ensure that all their other visitors know that a federal agent is waiting to question them. I'll take a seat right here." She seated herself directly in the line of sight of anyone who entered the office. Her threat garnered the response she had expected; the receptionist rushed to a nearby door, knocked and went in. She emerged two minutes later, followed by a very handsome blond man that Francine estimated to be in his forties.
"Hello, I'm Ronald Brooks; my assistant said that you asked to see me. I'm surprised that the Agency is interested in our little firm. We deal with lawmakers on a regular basis but we don't generally interact with the intelligence community. Please come into my office and tell me what brought you here."
Francine left his office twenty minutes later, convinced that while Brooks and his partner were verbally aggressive and used their high level connections with DC power brokers to achieve their goals, they wouldn't stoop to violence. Brooks had hinted broadly that some government employees didn't agree with the policies that they were charged with carrying out. He implied that lobbyists brought like-minded people together so that they could alter the course of legislation to further their agendas. Does Michael disagree with Reagan's Soviet policy? Is he trying to help derail it from the inside? I need to know what he was doing here earlier. She had missed two of her check-ins with Billy, and although she didn't want to tell him too much about what she'd found out, she had to call him. Returning to her car, she dialed his direct line.
"Melrose," he answered on the first ring.
"Billy, it's Francine-"
"Desmond, are you alright?" He stared at the phone as though he could see her at the other end of the line.
"Yes, I-"
"Where have you been? Do you know how many check-ins you've missed? This isn't like you…I expect more professionalism from you."
"I thought that your only concern was getting this case solved…no matter what…never mind, you asked for professionalism." She clutched the receiver and took a deep breath.
"Francine, I want you to come back in right now. You can give me your report in person." He reached in his drawer for an antacid while he waited for her reply.
"Sorry, Billy, I've got…a lead that I have to chase down now; it can't wait." She quickly hung up the phone and then picked up the receiver and dialed another number.
"Michael, it's Francine, we need to talk. Meet me at my apartment in half an hour." She ended the call before her startled lover could say a word.