Read Online Life of Secrets by Bowen Greenwood - Free Book Online
Authors: Bowen Greenwood
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wanted by the FBI for a murder that would change history was
above and beyond even her daily routine. Alyssa got off the subway, found an
empty bench, and sat down to catch her breath.
She cataloged
her steps since Gunter's death. New appearance, ready cash, hidden location -
she couldn't think of anything she'd missed. But the FBI could build a case
from even the tiniest detail. If she'd forgotten anything - anything at all -
she'd be in prison in less than a week.
Again, she
weighed her options. The FBI, or secret service, or whichever agency would take
the lead on this would be watching the airports. Trying to fly out of the
country would be chancy at best. Renting a sailboat would be easier. Chambers
was a competent enough sailor to make her way to the Caribbean and, once there,
she'd be effectively out of the FBI's reach.
Yet, the same
fascination that drove her this morning still held. Surviving an investigation
into an assassination would be the hardest thing she had ever done. If she
could do this, no one would ever say she hadn’t lived up to her mother’s desire
for her to be strong.
She was going
to clear her name because her whole life was about living up to that last wish.
Be strong. Well, surviving this and proving that she hadn’t killed West would
prove just how strong she really was.
Alyssa got back
on the Metro and rode back to K Street. The doors slid open, she stepped off, and
almost fell flat on her face.
A man in a dark
suit with a flesh-colored microphone hanging off his ear was interviewing the
girl from whom she’d stolen the phone.
Backup agents
surrounded the pair. They tried to blend into the surroundings, but the
"men in black" image of federal agents made it almost impossible.
Their leader
was showing the cell-phone’s owner a picture of Alyssa.
Fortunately, it
was a picture of a woman with beautiful long black hair, not a dirty blonde
jaw-length bob.
Chambers stared
straight ahead with the practiced disinterest of a city-dweller. She walked
right past the agents without so much as a second glance.
Her peripheral
vision caught one of the agents watching her walk by.
Her heart
skipped a beat. Was this it? Her grand effort to clear her name was over after
less than eight hours? Could she fight three federal agents in a crowded Metro
station and get away?
His gaze
slipped down, and kept sliding down, until his eyes had slid far enough down
that she could be certain he was not concerned about duty at the moment. Alyssa
rolled her eyes. Pervert! She kept walking.
Even when she
was safely out of range, she didn’t breathe the sigh of relief that wanted to
come out.
There might be
more of them watching.
The only way
out was forward. Resolutely, she strode away from the Metro station and down K
Street, on the way to the headquarters of the Hicks for President campaign.
CHAPTER FIVE
Getting into
places where you don’t belong isn't really that hard. More than half the battle
is simply looking like you're supposed to be there. In the business suit she
bought earlier, Alyssa looked more than professional enough for a Presidential
campaign headquarters.
At the Hicks
headquarters, she rode an elevator up to the ninth floor. There, she was told
by the receptionist that Tom Wheeler was unavailable at the moment.
Of course he
is, she thought. He's
on three different conference calls at once, trying to make sure none of what’s
coming splatters on him.
"Well, my
name is Alice Cobler . I'm a research assistant for
Ben Richards," was what she said aloud.
Richards wrote
one of the high-profile political opinion columns in the Post. Alyssa
had met him once, courtesy of an invitation from Matt to an office party.
Someone like Wheeler – who was a spin doctor at heart, whatever actual title he
might use – always found time for reporters, especially well-known types
like Richards. Alyssa knew she'd get in.
She took a
chair in the lobby, waiting for Wheeler. Remaining calm was the
above and beyond even her daily routine. Alyssa got off the subway, found an
empty bench, and sat down to catch her breath.
She cataloged
her steps since Gunter's death. New appearance, ready cash, hidden location -
she couldn't think of anything she'd missed. But the FBI could build a case
from even the tiniest detail. If she'd forgotten anything - anything at all -
she'd be in prison in less than a week.
Again, she
weighed her options. The FBI, or secret service, or whichever agency would take
the lead on this would be watching the airports. Trying to fly out of the
country would be chancy at best. Renting a sailboat would be easier. Chambers
was a competent enough sailor to make her way to the Caribbean and, once there,
she'd be effectively out of the FBI's reach.
Yet, the same
fascination that drove her this morning still held. Surviving an investigation
into an assassination would be the hardest thing she had ever done. If she
could do this, no one would ever say she hadn’t lived up to her mother’s desire
for her to be strong.
She was going
to clear her name because her whole life was about living up to that last wish.
Be strong. Well, surviving this and proving that she hadn’t killed West would
prove just how strong she really was.
Alyssa got back
on the Metro and rode back to K Street. The doors slid open, she stepped off, and
almost fell flat on her face.
A man in a dark
suit with a flesh-colored microphone hanging off his ear was interviewing the
girl from whom she’d stolen the phone.
Backup agents
surrounded the pair. They tried to blend into the surroundings, but the
"men in black" image of federal agents made it almost impossible.
Their leader
was showing the cell-phone’s owner a picture of Alyssa.
Fortunately, it
was a picture of a woman with beautiful long black hair, not a dirty blonde
jaw-length bob.
Chambers stared
straight ahead with the practiced disinterest of a city-dweller. She walked
right past the agents without so much as a second glance.
Her peripheral
vision caught one of the agents watching her walk by.
Her heart
skipped a beat. Was this it? Her grand effort to clear her name was over after
less than eight hours? Could she fight three federal agents in a crowded Metro
station and get away?
His gaze
slipped down, and kept sliding down, until his eyes had slid far enough down
that she could be certain he was not concerned about duty at the moment. Alyssa
rolled her eyes. Pervert! She kept walking.
Even when she
was safely out of range, she didn’t breathe the sigh of relief that wanted to
come out.
There might be
more of them watching.
The only way
out was forward. Resolutely, she strode away from the Metro station and down K
Street, on the way to the headquarters of the Hicks for President campaign.
CHAPTER FIVE
Getting into
places where you don’t belong isn't really that hard. More than half the battle
is simply looking like you're supposed to be there. In the business suit she
bought earlier, Alyssa looked more than professional enough for a Presidential
campaign headquarters.
At the Hicks
headquarters, she rode an elevator up to the ninth floor. There, she was told
by the receptionist that Tom Wheeler was unavailable at the moment.
Of course he
is, she thought. He's
on three different conference calls at once, trying to make sure none of what’s
coming splatters on him.
"Well, my
name is Alice Cobler . I'm a research assistant for
Ben Richards," was what she said aloud.
Richards wrote
one of the high-profile political opinion columns in the Post. Alyssa
had met him once, courtesy of an invitation from Matt to an office party.
Someone like Wheeler – who was a spin doctor at heart, whatever actual title he
might use – always found time for reporters, especially well-known types
like Richards. Alyssa knew she'd get in.
She took a
chair in the lobby, waiting for Wheeler. Remaining calm was the
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