I noticed Kassidy as soon as she stepped onto the stairs a couple of levels above me, and with every winding step she took, I studied her. She looked mostly the same as the last time I saw her five years ago. This time, though, I was able to see her hair, which came to the middle of her back and was a pretty shade of coppery red. I also noticed the freckles dusting her pale skin, which I didn’t remember from before. The biggest difference, though, was the aura surrounding her, as if she wore a heavy weight on her shoulders, and she couldn’t quite handle the load. I ached to help her with it, not even knowing the cause.
“Are you Agent Hall?” she asked once she was standing in front of me. I searched her face, but I didn’t see any indication that she remembered me, or that she was up to no good. I was torn between disappointment and relief. I wasn’t ready to remind her of our previous encounter, but at the same time, I hated that she didn’t recognize me.
“I am,” I answered, shaking her hand. “But you can call me Evan.”
“Okay,” she agreed pleasantly. “Please follow me.” She led me back up the stairs, to what I assumed was her office, and gestured for me to sit. I quickly glanced around the room and noticed how clean and neat her office was, except for several used coffee mugs on her desk. Either she had a coffee addiction, or she didn’t wash her mugs every day. Based on the rest of her office, though, I was guessing a coffee addiction was more likely.
“What can I help you with?” she asked me, and I couldn’t help but think that her accent was adorable. I remembered it vaguely from before, but I was even more taken with her voice this time. The slight Nordic lilt to her words created a burst of emotion inside of me, which I couldn’t identify, causing goosebumps to raise on my arms.
“Your embassy is beautiful,” I said, struggling to stay professional.
“Thank you,” she replied, a shy smile on her lips.
“And thank you for seeing me without an appointment. As I told the receptionist, I’m with the FBI. We just have a few more questions for you.”
“Did I not provide enough information last time?” Kassidy asked, and she seemed genuinely puzzled.
“You provided a good deal of very helpful information, which we really appreciate. But we have some follow-up questions,” I answered. “Honestly, though, it would be easiest if we just started over from the beginning.”
She sighed quietly, her face void of emotion, but she acquiesced.
“Okay. Well, I work here as an economic diplomat, and my main job is to help Finnish businesses get a foothold in the US economy,” she began, the goosebumps spreading with every word she spoke. “A Finnish businessman and I were meeting with Paradise Cruises at their office to discuss a partnership between them. Basically, we were trying to talk the cruise line into purchasing ships made in Finland,” she explained, and when I nodded, she continued. “I got a bad feeling pretty much as soon as I got to the Paradise Cruises office and saw how over the top their security was, and now I know why.”
“What kind of security did they have?” I asked her.
“The first thing I noticed when I arrived was the fence around the property, with barbed wire on top. There was a security guard at the gate into the parking lot, and I noticed cameras at the gate and in the lot. Inside the building, there were more security guards, and not just at the entrance. They had a metal detector, a very thorough visitor check-in, and all the doors had card readers or biometric scanners. It set off alarm bells, since I’ve never visited a business with such high security. I can’t think of a reason why a cruise company would need so much protection.”
I studied her as she spoke, which she didn’t notice, since she was so focused on the floor at her feet. I wondered why she was so much quieter and more reserved than when I met her before. Along with the heaviness that surrounded her, something had obviously happened to her in the past five years, and I was desperate to know what that was and help her with it.
“I went to the bathroom during the meeting. I got lost, and I overheard a conversation between two men. One was named Michael, and one was named William. They were talking about using trafficked people on their cruises, and they said that they only chose people who didn’t speak English, so that they couldn’t ask for help. Apparently, all of that came up because someone on the ship stuck a letter into a passenger’s suitcase, saying he was being held on the ship as a slave and forced to work. The note also said that his Visa and Passport had been taken from him. The passenger found the note once she got home and unpacked. I heard the men say that the passenger sent the note to the Norfolk police, but they bribed someone from the police department, and they gave the letter to them and erased the note’s existence from their system.”
“Okay, that information is really helpful,” I told her. “What happened after you overheard that conversation?”
“Well, I finally found my way back to the conference room, and the man, William, joined us towards the end of the meeting. Basically, we left the ball in their court, as you Americans say, in regards to whether or not they wanted to move forward.” Kassidy answered. I had to fight back a grin after hearing her sports metaphor.
“And what was the date that this meeting happened?” I asked.
“April 22nd,” Kassidy answered.
“That was a couple of weeks ago,” I pointed out, and she nodded. “You haven’t heard from them since then?”
She paused, suddenly looking guilty or unsure, an emotion I hadn’t noticed from her once so far, and I had a feeling she was about to lie.
“Not yet,” she answered, “but like I said, they’ll let us know if they want to move forward, at which point I’ll continue to be involved. My job will require me to research the company—doing background checks, interviewing employees, looking at their financials, things like that, and then writing up a report. I can share that information with you, if I find anything suspicious.”
I reacted without thinking. “Absolutely not,” I replied firmly, and her expression quickly changed from surprised, to confused, to angry. I studied her for a moment, unsure what she was thinking, and I decided to go with honesty, which was what I wanted from her as well. “I’m sorry. What I meant to say was, I don’t want you to do anything that could possibly put you in danger. While passing information off to me might not put you in danger, there’s a possibility that it could, and I’m not willing to take that risk.”
The more I said, the more fire filled her eyes, until it was almost burning me. I was happy to stand in the warmth of her flames, though. It was the first hint I’d seen of the Kassidy I knew, and I was glad for it.
“Mitä helvettiä!” she said heatedly. I had no idea what that meant, but I assumed she was cussing me out. “You’re not responsible for my safety. And I’m not an idiot.”
“I absolutely agree that you aren’t an idiot,” I replied, suddenly frustrated. For some reason I couldn’t explain, I hated that she was rejecting my protection. “I’m just trying to keep you safe. It’s who I am. I was in the Army before I came to the FBI, and it just comes naturally to me to be protective of others.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished I could take them back. I wasn’t sure if bringing up my time in the military was a good idea, or would jog her memory, but for some reason, I’d mentioned it without thinking.