Both Sides Now

But now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
Well something's lost, but something's gained
In living every day.

 

“Let's roll!”

It had been a long time since Trixie had seen her boss move with such decision, but she readily followed his lead without hesitation. In perfect accord, they moved from the shooting range, located in the basement of the Central Bureau of Intelligence, to Chief Walker's temporary work location on the fourth floor of the Manhattan office building. No one attempted to challenge or question them as they quickly navigated the elevators, stairs, and long hallways. It was obvious they were on a mission.

Once they arrived in the sterile office, its colors and tones so neutral the lack of color was almost nauseating, Walker secured the door and took the necessary steps to transform the room into classified or SCIF mode. It took less than a minute for the security measures required for classified conversations to be implemented. He picked up the phone and requested a secure line to the head of the agency.

Trixie managed not to look surprised, but she had rarely known her boss to work at a level that engaged the director of the CIB. He barked strange phrases like they were Standard English, and rattled off complicated code phrases and passwords as easily as Mart used polysyllabic words. By the time the conversation ended give minutes later, she had an idea of what was happening.

“It wasn't one of those ‘it's a small world’ coincidences, was it?” Trixie asked.

He shook his head. “Riker is definitely not your contact. He's not employed by the bureau in any capacity whatsoever.”

“His knowledge of the code words means ...” Her voice trailed off.

“Our case is compromised,” he finished for her. “Maybe our agent as well.”

“Will you let the agent know?”

“She'll be briefed immediately. How things continue will be up to her.”

She? Trixie thought to herself. So my contact is female. Looking at her boss, she asked. “Do you know who she is?”

He shook his head. “Only that it's a female. That's how I knew it couldn't possibly be Benjamin Riker.”

“What do I do now?”

Walker rubbed a hand over the top of his head, a gesture reminiscent of the time when he still had hair. “The director wants you to find out how Riker knew the code words.”

“I assume that's without Riker finding out that I know.” She quirked a questioning brow at him as her mind raced trying to figure out how she was going to manage that feat!

“Goes with saying, Belden,” he confirmed. His hands grasped the edge of the desk and he leaned forward. “Whatever happens, he can't know that you know. If you can't pull that off, don't deal with him.”

“Understood,” she nodded. “As for the rest of the case?”

“Keep proceeding,” he said. “Report to me by five if you haven't been contacted. The last thing we want to do is lose an asset.”

 

 

Honey wondered if Harold Langham would ever recover from the gunshot wounds. The thought had been running through her brain for days, but when she and her mother arrived at the hospital she was surprised to be greeted by a jubilant Tammy Langham. Harold had woken up.

This time, the doctor was proceeding with much more caution than before and refused to let him speak to law enforcement. He did agree that Tammy and her “niece” could speak with Harold during the scheduled visiting periods, and they only had ten minutes.

Tammy insisted Honey come with her. Her focus on Harold’s recovery was only equaled by her focus on finding the person who shot him.

Honey was adamant that Tammy go in first for a few private minutes with her husband. After all, Harold had shown remorse during their last visit and it was clear the couple needed to discuss some private matters without an audience. She waited outside the glass and curtained cubicle, until Tammy appeared.

“Honey,” she said softly. “You need to come in. Harold wants to tell you something.”

She nodded in understanding, squeezed his hand back, and waited as the clock ticked the seconds off. She was about to give up on learning anything from Harold on this visit when he finally spoke again.

“The boat,” he gasped. “The money ...” A paroxysm of coughing interrupted him, and once again she waited for him to stop so he could tell her what he seemed to desperately want her to know. She exchanged a concerned look with Tammy, who motioned for her to be patient. After his breathing returned to a semi-state of normal he tried again. “There's a computer on the boat ... your friend, get your friend. She can figure it out.”

She waited several moments before trying again. “Uncle Harold, did you want to tell me something?”

He nodded and fumbled to find her hand, giving it a weak squeeze before he managed to get the words out. “Hard to talk.”

She nodded in understanding, squeezed his hand back, and waited. The clock ticked the seconds off and she was about to give up that she would learn anything from Harold on this visit, when he finally spoke again.

“The boat,” he gasped. “The money ...” he started coughing before he could continue and once again she waited for him to stop so he could continue what he seemed to desperately want her to know. She exchanged a concerned look with Tammy who motioned for her to be patient. After his breathing returned to a semi-state of normal he tried again. “The computer on my boat ... your friend can figure it out.”

Honey frowned. “You mean Trixie?” she asked.

He nodded. “Tell her it's on the boat...”

Another coughing spasm interrupted him. This time, it was severe enough the nurse had to come in and ask them to leave. Tammy tried to argue. “The doctor said we could speak with him,” she insisted.

“Mrs. Langham, it’s a good sign that he’s alert, but the last thing we need is another relapse. Please, he needs to rest.”

Honey touched her arm lightly. “Come on, Aunt Tammy. Let's go find Mother.” She looked around the area, noting the open intensive care unit and the unmonitored passages. “Besides, I need to find out what kind of security they have around here. I'm thinking the police should have a guard on Uncle Harold.”

“A guard?” Tammy asked. She moved along with Honey, distracted be the mention of security and guards. “Why does he need a guard?”

“Someone tried to kill him,” Honey reminded her. “What if they decide to try again?”

Tammy gasped and paled. Evidently, that thought had never occurred to her.

“Besides,” Honey continued. “I need to call Trixie.”

 

 

Ben sealed the thick legal-sized envelope and scribbled a name on the outside. Looking up, he frowned. The expensive wallpaper and plush deep pile carpet of his office didn’t attract his notice. He took many of the niceties of life for granted, both while growing up at home and now, in his position with the law firm. The quiet however, was something he did notice.

“Ellie!” He frowned as there was no response to his call for assistance. He tried again. “Ellie?”

Still no answer. He tried the intercom and frowned again when it was picked up immediately.

“Ellie? Didn't you hear me calling for you?”

“First,” the icy tone dripped with disapproval. “My name is not Ellie. If you can remember only a few short weeks ago, Ellie left to work with Charlie Prescott. Is there something you needed, Mr. Riker?”

He cringed. When he was introduced to the new secretary he’d barely paid attention. Other matters had occupied his mind, including the hope that Charlie would offer him a position. Now he strained to remember the paralegal’s name. “Uh, yeah ... I have a package that needs to be delivered as soon as possible. Can you get a messenger to take care of it?”

“Local delivery, I presume?” There was no mistaking the disdain in her tone.

“That's correct. Midtown.”

“I'll be right there, there's a messenger waiting now for something else. He can take this and I'll call for another, or he can handle both.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He pushed the disconnect button on the fancy phone system, and stood up to unlock his door. The last thing he wanted was a nosy secretary wondering why his door was locked. He managed to unlock it and sit down at his desk before she walked in. “Delivery to the Belden Wheeler Agency,” he said, handing her the package. “To be opened by Beatrix Belden only.”

She nodded and handed him several messages “There’s a Beatrix Belden in the lobby who wants to see you. Is it the same person?”

“Yes, that will work out fine.” He held out his hand for the package. “I’ll just give it to her. She likes coffee, with cream, if you’ll get that ready.”

“Certainly, Mr. Riker,” she replied, returning the envelope.

“It’s Ben,” he replied automatically. He gave her his most beguiling grin. “Since I’m not supposed to call you Ellie, perhaps you could remind me what you’d like me to call you.”

“Actually, Mr. Riker, I’m much more comfortable with formal titles. Ms. Carter will be fine.” She turned on her heels and quietly left the office, leaving Ben staring at the pleasant picture she made crossing his office. Connors and Ford didn’t hire any secretaries who weren’t good-looking, and Ms. Carter— Desiree, he suddenly remembered—was no exception. However attractive her appearance her demeanor was all business. Ellie had been all business as well but she’d still made their relationship feel less formal. He shook his head, briefly wondering what Trixie could want. Then, he sat back down and placed the envelope in a side drawer. There would be a time for that during the conversation. If not, he’d make one.

Ben’s musings on how to introduce the legal papers were interrupted by a quiet knock. Everything about that woman is quiet, he thought as Ms. Carter pushed the door open. “Ms. Belden, sir.” She said and motioned for Trixie to enter the office. “Your coffee will be here momentarily.”

“Trixie!” Ben stood and crossed the room, dropping a friendly kiss on her cheek. “What brings you to the most boring law office in Manhattan today? I’d have thought you and the rest of the birds would be up to your eyebrows in fundraising.”

“You should know your Aunt Grace better than that,” Trixie chided. “She has everything organized. We have detailed schedules of where we are supposed to be and when, and unless I’m mistaken …” she stopped and pretended to check a non-existent watch. “My eyebrows don’t have to be anywhere until Saturday.”

Ben laughed as he waved her towards the visitor chairs, taking the seat next to hers. “You’re right, of course. I guess Jim’s pretty excited by now.”

“Excited doesn’t begin to describe it,” Trixie replied. “But what about you? I had to submit some paperwork at the good old CIB this morning to take care of the last of my transition out of my old job, and thought I’d check in.”

“Good grief, Belden. You’re four months behind on paperwork?”

Trixie grinned. “Paperwork is not my thing, but no I’m not that bad. When I left I kept my insurance, but now that we’re hiring employees we’re going to do our own insurance through the firm. So I had to find out how all that works.” She gave a pretend grimace. “The website for that stuff is practically undecipherable, and that’s from someone trained to break codes. It was much easier to talk with Donna in Human Resources. She makes everything easier for us.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Ben rolled his eyes. “Don’t you dare tell Charlie, but you wouldn’t believe how much I miss---”

He was interrupted by a soft knock just before Ms. Carter pushed a coffee tray into the office. He clamped his lips tightly together until cups, coffee, and cream were situated and the door closed again. Then he lowered his head and gently banged it on the desk in front of them three times. “Good grief, she almost heard me. I was going to tell you how much that I miss Ellie. Ms. No First Name Efficient just isn’t the same.”

Trixie turned and looked over her shoulder at the closed door. “It does seem quieter around here without Charlie and Ellie.”

“Quiet isn’t even the half of it,” he muttered. He sat his coffee down carefully and reached for the desk drawer. “But since you stopped by, you saved me some messenger fees. Here’s the paperwork that Honey asked me to draw up.” He handed her the envelope.

Trixie frowned. “What kind of paperwork?”

Ben’s answer was pre-empted by the ringing of Trixie’s phone. Glancing down at the screen, she looked surprised. “Well, speaking of Honey, that’s her calling. Do you mind?”

He motioned for her to take the call.

“Hi, Honey,” she said cheerfully. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Trix,” Honey replied. “Are you in the office?”

“Actually, I'm in Ben's office and headed to our offices now. Did you need something?” Her eyes met Ben’s he tried not to appear curious about the conversation.

“Yeah, I need to talk with you as soon as possible.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not exactly,” Honey hedged. “Can anyone hear me?”

“Not at all,” Trixie replied, forcing a note of cheerfulness into her tone. “Fire away!”

“Please don’t tell anyone, but Harold woke up.”

“Great news,” she said sounding perkier than she felt. “I’ll meet you at the office in a few.” She disconnected the call not quite disguising a small frown of concern.

“Is something wrong?” Ben asked.

“Nope,” Trixie said cheerfully. “Honey thinks she might have a new case for us and wants to meet with me to talk about it.” She stood up. “I’d better get going. I only know where Grace wants me to be this week, I don’t have clue how tight Honey’s schedule is for the day.”

“Thanks for stopping by,” Ben responded automatically, standing as well.

“Sure, I’ll see you Saturday.” She breezed out with a cheerful efficiency that left him wondering exactly why she’d stopped by in the first place. She hadn’t even quizzed him about the package.

“That’s it!” He snapped his fingers, talking only to himself. “Honey must have already told her about the changes. She was going to pump me about it until she got the phone call.” He turned to pick up his buzzing phone without giving Trixie’s visit another thought.