The Perfect Teacher Read online

  She stopped at Broley's cubicle and leaned in. "I'm going to go grab some lunch and run an errand. Back in an hour and a half or so."

  Broley was deep into a report he was reading. He looked up with a blank stare and smiled. "Ok, have a nice lunch."

  Abbie smiled back and turned to leave. She didn't really need to stop by her supervisor's desk, but she knew he would be looking for her report later and didn't want him asking around about her whereabouts for a little while.

  Parked outside the eight-story office building half an hour later, she smirked at herself and shook her head as she reached up and adjusted the rear view mirror. She squinted. Her eyes were full of questions. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answers. Eyes closed, she nodded and tightened her lips.

  "Let's go."

  She avoided those questioning eyes in the mirror and opened the door to get out. The walk across the parking lot was fine. No melodrama. Just not much air coming into her tight lungs. She didn't hear a rising soundtrack or birds chirping with their doubts about her actions. She even smiled at herself as she came to a set of paved steps leading up to the double glass doors of the office building.

  Once inside, she quickly spotted the etched glass placard hanging on the wall to her right. After perusing the alphabetical list for a couple of seconds, she found the company name she was looking for. Fourth floor, suite 408. She turned and took a few steps and spotted the elevators.

  Abbie stepped out of the elevator on the fourth floor. She walked down a long hall and found the door marked 408. The company's logo was adhered to the glass below the number. She didn't delay in the least, opened the door and entered.

  A receptionist seated behind a short wall on the right greeted her with a smile.

  "Hi there, how can I help you?"

  "Hi, I'm here to see Neil Wallach." Abbie replied with a smile of her own.

  "Neil," followed by a less than reassuring delay. "Sure, and your name?"

  "Abbie Ross."

  "Ok, great. I'll give him a quick call to let him know you're here."

  "Great, thanks." Abbie stepped away from the counter and looked around the office. A few cubicles were in view. She could see the tops of heads of a couple of people working. Hallways went to the right and to the left.

  "Hi Neil it's Roslynn, you have a visitor at the front desk. Ok, I'll tell her." The receptionist hung up the phone and turned to Abbie. "Miss Ross, Neil said he'd be right up."

  "Thank you." Abbie sat down on the couch across from the receptionist. She looked at her hands and noticed they were shaking. She turned and looked out the glass door to the hallway and thought of bolting. You're fine. Be cool.

  A minute and a half later, Neil came up the hallway on the right. He smiled at Roslynn behind her counter and walked over to Abbie who rose from the comfy couch.

  "Well, hello there."

  "Surprise." She smiled through nerves.

  "Indeed. And a delightful surprise it is."

  Abbie looked nervously from Neil to Roslynn and back. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

  "Not at all. Not at all." Neil answered through nerves of his own.

  "I was hoping you'd be free for lunch." Abbie smiled and dropped her head ever so slightly.

  "Lunch. I had no plans, so absolutely. Love to."

  Relief swelled up and over Abbie. "Great. I can wait here if you need to go wrap anything up."

  "Nope. Ready to go now if you are." Neil stepped over closer to Abbie.

  "Okay." She grabbed her purse and turned to Roslynn. "Thanks again."

  Roslynn smiled back and nodded. It was one of those 'you go girl' affirmative nods. "Of course. You guys have a nice lunch."

  Neil stepped over to the door and opened it for Abbie. Out in the hallway, they smiled at each other and chuckled as they walked to the elevator. After pressing the down arrow, Neil turned to Abbie and leaned in close.

  "Definitely an off the charts kind of surprise."

  Abbie adjusted her shoulders and took the tiniest of steps to lean in so she could put her forehead on his shoulder. The whole thing was significantly more intimate than exchanging a kiss. She turned her face. "You're not upset with a little invasion of your space?"

  Neil leaned back so he could reach up and nudge Abbie's chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Not upset." A kiss would have definitely been next were it not for the ding signaling the elevator's arrival. They shared a smile and stepped back from each other right before the elevator doors opened. The gentleman already on stepped back to let them in.

  Once down to the lobby and outside, Neil suggested an eatery across the street and just around the corner. He took her hand as they made it to the steps Abbie climbed a few minutes earlier.

  Their lunch was nice. The conversation, initially stilted and hesitant, flowed into a casual tempo of a couple still learning about each other with every question and answer and comment and lunch item ordered and eating utensil held and joke smiled and laughed at and fingertip caressed.

  Abbie shared her concerns about the New York City trip in two days and what it meant for them. She told him of the worry of going away for a short weekend and the stress it could put on a new relationship that was still rather slowly progressing. Sharing a bed in a postage stamp of a Manhattan hotel room might put pressures on the two of them to perform. And if they're in New York, neither can simply get up and leave if things fall apart or collapse or explode.

  Neil echoed Abbie's concerns about this next step in their relationship, and added that the trip to New York didn't require they move the relationship forward with the expected intimacy. And if the darn trip had her this upset, they could definitely postpone or cancel it. No problem.

  Waves of relief came over her. Audible sighs.

  The lunch was one of those "clearing of the air" events that did all the work of the New York trip. By the time they finished lunch, the two of them were ready to head for either of their places, whichever was closest. The problem was it was 1:00 pm on a Wednesday and each had this thing called work demanding their time and efforts. Abbie needed to get her memo to Broley. Neil had a strategy session scheduled for 2:00 with a couple of execs with the company.

  They walked back across the street to her parked car where Neil and Abbie engaged in some brief post-lunch passionate necking right there in public. Anyone looking down from the office building could surely see the action. Screw em'. They broke away after an extended dive into a full body kiss that generated all kinds of heat.

  They parted feeling much different about the New York trip on Friday.

  Chapter 17

  "Nothing?"

  "Not a word."

  Wyrick turned away from Seibel and looked out the window down at the hillside of trees quickly losing their leaves. Third time out here in the last month.

  "He hasn't reached out to you. How about Fuchs?" Wyrick asked.

  "You asking if I've heard from Fuchs?" Seibel replied from his kitchen table. A hot cup of coffee in front of him next to the file folders Wyrick brought by for him to review.

  "No, has Lance been in contact with Fuchs?"

  "Nope. Nothing."

  "Damn. Just that coded inbound after al-Fayez? So, no telling what he is up to." Wyrick took a sip from the coffee cup in his hand. He grimaced. Seibel makes it stronger than strong. And he doesn't offer cream and sugar. "Al-Fayez was one of three dozen resources he was presented. But certainly not one requiring elimination. Not much strategy there."

  Seibel was deep into the cache of documents in the second of three folders Wyrick brought. "You're questioning the strategic value of the actions taken by Preacher?" The question was asked with all sorts of facetiousness. Definitely a smirk on Seibel's face as he continued to read.

  "I know, I know. How dare I." Wyrick turned from the window and stepped back over to take a seat opposite Seibel at the rustic kitchen table. He took another sip of coffee and grabbed the folder Seibel had already digested and discarded. The old man saw the fore
st for the trees, the meanings in-between the written words.

  After a few minutes of quiet reading, Wyrick breached the mountain cabin silence yet again. "Says here several bank accounts in Cypress have seen major deposits and withdrawals in the past 90 days. I think we've seen that pattern before."

  "Saw that. One would not be too bold to assume those deposits originate from Saudi interests, just like they have in the past." Seibel spoke but never looked up from the page he was reading.

  "Withdrawals appear to be funds used to purchase goods and services from a Syrian multi-national outfit linked to all sorts of nasty people. Not the most creative obfuscation attempts. Kind of weak stuff." Wyrick turned the page.

  "Someone probably needs to dig into the firm making those deposits, don't you think?"

  "Yep. And probably spend a little time tracking those funds for goods and services to see if anyone can produce an invoice or a warehouse log."

  "They won't find much of either." Seibel looked up and took a sip of coffee. "That is unless they go looking in those mountains on the Afghanistan-Pakistan border. Bet you some of the guns and bombs those fellas are training with were paid for by those mysterious funds that went through Cypress."

  Wyrick got up and walked over to the coffee maker to grab the pot. He came back over and refilled Seibel's mug and then his own. "You think anyone can find the connection?" The question was posed with all intended sarcasm.

  Chapter 18

  "Okay, okay. I'll put it on. I thought the wig and dress and gloves were enough. I guess not. I'll put the mask on." Abbie wasn't thrilled with any of the surprises Neil threw at her since they arrived at the hotel an hour and a half ago. She appreciated the effort, but would have preferred a little warning about tonight being a Halloween dress-up.

  "The mask just plain completes the ensemble." Neil smiled at her in the dim light of the cab. When she put the mask on he giggled like a schoolboy. "My god, you are Jackie."

  Abbie did indeed look like the former first lady circa 1960. It was a fantastic get up. "Not exactly the costume I would have chosen," she replied.

  "But that makes it even more perfect. You look absolutely gorgeous, like usual of course," Neil leaned in close. "Ready?"

  "I guess so, Sigmund."

  Neil just happened to be wearing a grey wig, grey goatee, black glasses and a dark grey suit. He was a spot on Dr. Sigmund Freud. They each chuckled as they got out of the taxi. They were around the corner from the entrance to the hotel. The whole thing was quite an elaborate production by Neil. He even carried an old fashioned black medical case in his left hand.

  He slipped his mask on as they rounded the corner and approached the gaudy entrance to the even gaudier hotel. When they reached the hotel's front revolving doors, a limo pulled up and the valet opened the rear passenger door. Out poured each member of the band KISS, circa 1977.

  Would have been super cool if it actually was Mr. Simmons and crew, but this quartet was actually a group of Halloween partygoers who took their costumes to the upper echelon of over the top. They whooped and hollered and the one who was supposed to stuck out his tongue and flicked it at everyone within sight. All the folks around, including Neil and Abbie applauded and made room for the wannabe rockers to enter.

  Abbie was pretty sure the one dressed up like KISS' drummer was actually a woman. Still, she looked awesome.

  "Now I feel under dressed," Abbie snickered and turned to Neil. "What have you gotten me into here?"

  Neil leaned in close and kissed Jackie Kennedy on the cheek. "I think this is going to be interesting. Fun, but interesting."

  One of the fancy-dressed doormen turned back from the rock band ensemble to greet them. "Good evening Jackie, I mean Mrs. Kennedy." The guy smiled broadly at her costume. "And wilkommen, Dr. Freud?"

  "Sank you," Lance affected a perfect German accent. "Vee are vedy pleased to make your acquaintance."

  The doorman waived them past. They pushed the revolving door and once inside saw the place was wall-to-wall costumes. And it appeared everyone was following the strict rule of this party being a masked costume ball. Filling the hotel lobby were zombies, sexy nurses, mad scientists, a statue of liberty, dozens of Sylvester Stallone film characters.

  Neil escorted Abbie through the crowd, down a wide hallway and into the ballroom. A band was playing on stage and hundreds of costumed characters of all shapes, sizes and types populated the dance floor. Neil took Abbie's hand and pulled her through a tight throng over to the side of the room where a series of round booths lined the wall. The third table was open. A small stanchion in the middle of the table held a card that read Reserved - Freud, S. (Dr.). Abbie shook her head at the whole thing and then slid into the booth. Neil followed her in.

  Less than a minute after taking their seats, a waiter dressed up like a dapper 1920s Chicago gangster showed up with a platter of appetizers and two glasses of champagne. He greeted them with a "how youz doin?" Abbie looked around and noticed all the wait staff were done up in either gangster or flapper costumes.

  She leaned over and had to basically yell to Neil over the noise, "I've got to hand it to you buddy, you really pulled this thing off. I was thinking maybe dinner and a Broadway show and you blow me away with this whole thing."

  "Dinner and a show, hah. Bush league!" Neil raised his champagne glass. Abbie lifted hers and they toasted to a wonderful surprise of an evening.

  Peering over her champagne glass, she welcomed Neil's smile. She couldn't believe she was pissed off just a few minutes earlier. Abbie broke away from Neil's smile and took in the room. She prided herself on thinking that she was the spontaneous type. Maybe it was nerves tonight.

  It started as they arrived at Penn Station. Neil kept an evil, knowing smile on his face pretty much the entire time from the train station to taxi stand to hotel. Once up in their tiny room, after an elbow-to-elbow ride with other passengers in a teacup of an elevator, Abbie stepped into the bathroom to freshen up. When she came out, Dr. Sigmund Freud greeted her. He stood next to the bed upon which lay a dress, wig and gloves.

  Abbie spun her head around to look back behind them at the mirrored ballroom wall. She did look damn good and a whole hell of a lot like Jackie. She also saw Neil get up. When she turned her head back, he was standing there holding his hand out.

  "May I?"

  Abbie slid around the booth and took his hand. "You may."

  They strode over to the dance floor and joined a couple hundred goons and goblins and ghosts and monsters of all variety.

  It was a lovely evening. People came and went and champagne flowed and dinner was served, followed by more dancing. For whatever reason, they dropped a ball over the dance floor at midnight. This naturally led to more champagne and kissing, as if a dropping ball was necessary for that part.

  Seated shoulder to shoulder with fingers laced through each others' hand on the table, Dr. Freud raised his mask and raised his grey eyebrows a couple of times. Jackie Kennedy nodded in response. Time to go.

  Sigmund dropped a few 20s on the table for a tip and grabbed his black medical bag. Jackie curtsied. Their goomba waiter nodded his fedora at them and they headed for the door. Out in the lobby, the crowd from two-plus hours earlier thinned out significantly. As they reached the center of the open lobby, Neil stopped and did a little spin.

  "I wonder if I can offer you one more surprise before we go."

  Abbie cocked her head. "Can I take this damn mask off for this one?"

  "Sorry, not yet milady. The ball is not quite over."

  "Damn. You'd think the first lady could get away with it."

  "This way." Neil led her toward the elevator. They reached the bank of elevators and stood with a few other costumed couples heading up to their rooms.

  Abbie moved in close and whispered, "I really don't need any more surprises, honestly."

  "This one will be worth it. Promise." Neil smiled and nodded.

  Chapter 19

  The bell dinged and ei
ght riders got on. In order, it was a winged fairy, a king, Elvis, Marie Antoinette, Dr. Freud, Jackie Kennedy, a soaking wet sweaty ghost and what looked like a lady of the evening. That one might not be a costume.

  They all smiled and leaned into their significant other. The lift smelled of alcohol and smoke and sweat and way too heavy perfume. The ghost and hooker got off on seven. The fairy and king exited on 12. Elvis and miss 'let them eat cake' slipped off on 21. That left the renowned psychiatrist and soon to be widowed first lady as the only passengers. They rode the rest of the way alone. The button for the 26th Penthouse floor was lit up.

  Under her mask, Jackie Kennedy smiled. She may have said that she didn't need any more surprises, but she was more than a little bit excited to find out what awaited them on the top floor.

  Dr. Freud stepped forward to press the buttons for floors 24 and 25. He turned back to the widowed First Lady and stepped in close. He brought his mouth to her ear and whispered. His tone was anything but sexy.

  "Listen closely. Abigail Melissa Ross, 29, Winston Salem, North Carolina. University of North Carolina, undergrad in Finance. University of Virginia Law, fourth in her class. Right-handed. Two right knee ligament repair surgeries, lacrosse injury. Shellfish allergy. Five-foot-six inches, 136 pounds. Single, never married."

  Abbie leaned back. The back of her head bumped the mirrored wall behind her. "What?"

  The elevator stopped and the door opened. No one was there. The doors slowly closed.

  "You are a CIA operative. You've been trained in basic self-protection and firearms. You passed both with impressive scores."

  Abbie attempted to move back, to her right. But she was already backed into the corner.