Double Cross by James David Jordan

distance for quite a while.”
    “Just my luck. I work out to attract men, not women.”
    She laughed. “I meant that I’ve admired your work. Although whatever you’re doing, I’d keep it up. You look great.”
    “It’s been an active year.”
    She shook her head. “I’ll say. I don’t know anybody else who’s led a raid on a terrorist hideout this year.”
    “An unsuccessful raid. And I wasn’t the leader until everybody else got shot.” That sounded so amped up that I was embarrassed. “Actually, the guys I was with were real pros. They just let me come along because I was the only one who could positively ID Simon.” From habit, I moved around her and took the seat at the far side of the table, where I could see both of the doors.
    She sat across from me and rested an arm on the table. “I’m sorry about Reverend Mason. I understand you were close.”
    “He was sort of like a father . . . or big brother.” I waved a hand in the air. “To tell you the truth, I still don’t know how to describe our relationship. I guess you said it best. We were close. He was a great man.”
    “How is his daughter doing? You’re living with her at the Mason house?”
    “She seems to be handling everything remarkably well. I mean, if you think I’ve had an extraordinary year, just think about what Kacey’s gone through. She’s an amazing girl.”
    “I remember her from the press conference at the hospital after the kidnapping. She was poised beyond her years.”
    I sipped my coffee. “I worry about her—that she’s holding everything in. That’s the way she is.” I immediately wondered why I was sharing thoughts like that with this stranger. A reporter, at that. I had to watch myself.
    “I imagine she’s had to grow up in a hurry,” she said. “It’s a shame. She should be enjoying college. She’s at Southern Methodist, right?”
    “That’s right, SMU. A sophomore.”
    She smiled. “Good gosh, when I was a sophomore in college, my biggest worry was whether so-and-so would ask me to the football dance.”
    I couldn’t see any upside in making Kacey part of this conversation, so I decided to change the subject. I pointed to Parst’s iced tea. “A little chilly out for that, isn’t it?”
    “I know. My husband thinks I’m crazy. I drink this stuff the year round; the colder the better.” She gave her clear plastic cup a shake. “I don’t like coffee. This is how I get my caffeine.”
    I held up my cup. “Well, here’s to caffeine.” I took a sip. “What does your husband do?”
    “He was general counsel for Challenger Airlines for years. A few years ago he moved into the U.S. Attorney’s office. Now he’s a prosecutor. Sort of a midlife change of focus.”
    “A lawyer in the family, huh? That must come in handy in the journalism business.”
    “Not really. He’s always more worried about my safety than about the story. If it were up to him, I’d be covering fashion shows and Easter egg hunts.”
    “I wouldn’t complain. It sounds like you married a good one.”
    “Yeah, I did.” She leaned back in her chair. “So, how did you end up working for Simon Mason, anyway? I mean, I know from the newspapers that you were with the Secret Service, but I’ve never heard how you and Reverend Mason connected.”
    “When I quit the Service, I came back to Dallas and started my own security agency. In March Simon called me out of the blue. I’d never met him. He told me he’d received terrorist threats. He said that a church member had recommended me to him. It wasn’t until later that I found out—” I caught myself and took another drink.
    “Found out what?”
    I took off my white pea coat and hung it over the back of my chair. When I turned back to her I said, “Found out how exciting working for Simon Mason was going to be.”
    “I’d say that’s an understatement.” She leaned forward. “It was a tragedy about Elise Hovden, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes, it was.”
    “Were you