A Taste of Tragedy Page 2

  “I can’t believe this little gap is bugging me so much. I must be turning into my ex,” Morgan huffed as she sat down on the floor and scooted under her desk with the small flashlight from her key chain, hoping her boss didn’t return and catch her with her skirt hiked up.

  She ran her fingers along the track and felt something at the very back. Wriggling even further under the desk, she shined the small light in the area where she detected the obstruction. The item was affixed with tape, but it took little effort to pry it free.

  Crawling back out into the light, Morgan examined the small item. No larger than a paperclip, its identity was clear. She held a tiny flash drive between her fingers.

  Hmm, curious place to keep data. She pondered the matter while looking closely at her find. “Wish I wouldn’t have already powered down my computer,” Morgan muttered as she dropped the small device into her purse, flipped off the lights, and headed for the elevator.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “What do we have?” FBI Special Agent Devyn Nash asked as she paced in front of a wall-sized digital whiteboard.

  Her partner, Nick Melonis, and her boss, Special Agent in Charge (SAC), Gerald Conroy, studied the elaborate diagram she had created. The rest of the group, SACs from three other FBI field offices and their designated agents, watched in various states of disinterest.

  “A bunch of accidents,” one of the men in the back mumbled.

  Devyn glared at Richard Smith, an agent from the Sacramento field office. Apparently, he didn’t realize he was already on her list for ratting on her for requesting information on a case she was supposed to stay away from. She must be slipping. Being on her list used to be a very bad place to be, but the man didn’t seem terribly concerned as he continued to try her limited patience.

  Taking a deep breath, she counted to ten, something Nick had been encouraging her to do before responding to any comments she deemed stupid. She glanced at her partner and he nodded his approval of her restraint.

  “That used to be the predominant theory,” Gerald Conroy interjected, “but there was nothing accidental about what happened in Wyoming. The hired assassins were professionals. The man in charge indicated before he died that there is a tie to three other incidents, which were originally deemed accidents by local law enforcement and therefore were not officially investigated by the FBI. Those incidents occurred in, or are connected to, companies in your jurisdictions, which is why you’re all here. I’ve spoken to the other SACs, and since the most recent and clearly verifiable crime happened in our district, we’ll take the lead, but we need to all work together to find out what’s going on. Cooperation is key. It’s essential to keep information flowing so nothing slips through the cracks again. Devyn, brief everyone on what we know for sure.”

  Devyn appreciated Gerald Conroy putting the group in their place. He had been with the Bureau for a long time and was well respected across the country. With his preamble, she now had everyone’s undivided attention. Devyn was so thrilled to finally have a shot at these cases that she hardly knew where to begin.

  Standing and facing the group, she tucked several errant strands of her long blonde hair behind her ear. She forced a professional tone into her voice to cover her excitement.

  “Within the past five years, there’s been an explosion at GenTech Medical and Pharmaceutical Research Laboratories which killed two scientists and wiped out a decade’s worth of data. The head researcher at Polk Genetic Research allegedly committed suicide. An experienced analyst and researcher for Smith & Brown Consumer Analytics died of injuries sustained in a fatal skiing accident. Most recently, three people were murdered over a product, potentially worth billions, being developed by Uinta Vitamin and Nutrition or UVN.”

  Devyn nodded to Nick, and he stood up and passed out thin briefing packets.

  “Most of what you see in here is from the UVN case, since that’s the one which verified my and Nick’s theory that all these incidents were not accidents and are connected. Also enclosed is the official accident report from the local investigator on one of the murders related to this case.”

  For several minutes, the sound of rustling paper was all that could be heard in the conference room. Devyn doubted anyone could still deny that something very bad and dangerous lurked on the fringes of the pharmaceutical research and nutritional supplement world. Most importantly, though, the FBI had officially opened a case file, and she and Nick were designated as the leads.

  “In going over the four incidents, we think we’ve found the tie,” Devyn continued. “Gen Tech was working on a surgical procedure which would reprogram the brain to tell the body what it should consume and how much. The research would have changed the lives of diabetics and those with eating disorders. The explosion and loss of data and the scientists involved set the program back years. The researcher who allegedly committed suicide at Polk was apparently close to isolating a gene which could more accurately identify those individuals prone to genetic obesity. This breakthrough would have enabled doctors to take a proactive approach with those possessing a strong likelihood of becoming obese. Smith & Brown conducts tests on thousands of products for companies seeking a third-party unbiased confirmation of its claims. Its analyst, who was killed in a ski accident, had worked on testing for five different diet and nutrition products in the past three years, so we don’t know which, if any, of the products is involved. And most recently, UVN thought they had successfully modified an enzyme to create a supplement that would allow people to eat whatever they want in any quantity and still lose weight. So the common denominator appears to be weight management.”

  “Are we looking for someone who is trying to steal the products and procedures and eventually introduce them to the market as their own? Or do we think someone wants to keep the products out of production and off the market?” one of the other agents asked.

  “We’re not sure. Either way, someone is apparently trying to manipulate the forty to one hundred billion dollar-a-year diet product industry in the U.S., which would obviously impact other developed countries around the world as well.”

  Devyn returned to her chair and took a long gulp of coffee. She scanned the room and could see she had everyone’s attention. Not only had they verified crimes had been committed, rather than just a series of unfortunate accidents, she had given them the link binding the crimes and companies together.

  “So, all we have to do is find out who wants to make America skinny or keep it fat, and who’s willing to kill for the honor. No problem,” Sacramento sneered.

  “It’s more than we’ve had. At least we’re investigating now, and we will be working together and cooperating fully with each other—Dick, is it?”

  “I go by Richard.”

  A kick in the shin under the table from Nick warned Devyn not to pursue the exchange. Their boss had ordered her to play nice with the other agents, or else. She ground her teeth together and shrugged her shoulders, silently counting to ten for the second time in the last half an hour.

  “That’s all we have so far. Until very recently, no one agreed with me that the best and brightest in the scientific world weren’t just a bunch of accident-prone, bumbling oafs and that something far more deadly was at work.”

  Gerald Conroy stood and cleared his throat. “We won’t take up any more of your time, and probably won’t need to meet again unless we have a major break in the case. We don’t have any solid leads to follow up on except to try and locate Janice Green. She was apparently calling the shots at UVN and had been employed at the other companies under different aliases and in different capacities. She has managed to disappear in all these instances. Her photo is in your packet as well as in the electronic case file which has been established on the bureau-wide server. When we put surveillance on a local investigating officer for one of the UVN murders, we caught him on a spending spree. After some serious pressure, he confessed to falsifying the accident report. So revisiting the local investigating officers in your juri
sdictions is a good place to start. That’ll be all,” Gerald Conroy stated.

  As the group filed out of the room, the special agents in charge stopped to exchange pleasantries with Gerald. Devyn and Nick hung back until the room cleared and waited for their specific instructions.

  Once all the outside agents left, Gerald rejoined Devyn and Nick.

  “Until we catch a break, there’s not a lot we can do, so I want you to get up to speed on the interagency drug case we’ve been working on. I want you two to take the lead on a surveillance operation Gordo and Fitz have organized. They’ve prepared a briefing for you on the specifics. I’m sure you know the gist, so get to know the facts. There’s also some follow-up needed with the Wyoming Sheriff on the UVN case as well,” Gerald said as he plopped Gordo and Fitz’s briefing paper on the table in front of them.

  Devyn scanned the briefing quickly with Nick reading over her shoulder. Their assignment was a small piece of a large ongoing investigation being conducted in cooperation with local authorities. The FBI had received a tip on a location and date when a known drug dealer would be picking up his next supply. They could have brought him in for selling drugs months ago but realized he might be the break they needed to find out how the drugs where getting into the city and to identify the main distributor.

  The job would be accomplished by tracking texts, intercepting cell phone calls, and placing some listening devices in strategic locations in an effort to nab a dealer willing to talk. Since the tech guys would handle most of the actual work, Devyn didn’t think it would take up too much of their time. A few stakeouts and hopefully, bringing in a dealer without tipping their hand to the main supplier would likely be her and Nick’s primary role.

  She appreciated that their boss had clearly left them open to pursue Operation Risky Research, as it had been unofficially dubbed. By handing them a piece of the drug-eradication operation that could easily be turned over to other agents if needed, she and Nick had the freedom to investigate a case that had been haunting her for years.

  When Devyn looked up, a crooked smile and warm brown eyes gazed down at her. “So, do I dare ask how you’ll be spending your time while waiting for tech to set up surveillance on our newest target?”

  “Our main goal is to locate Janice Green and find out her true identity. Also, I doubt the dearly departed assassin, Frank, was talking about a group of prairie dogs residing in a communal burrow when he mentioned ‘Coterie.’ So, we’ll be on the lookout for an exclusive group of persons with a common interest in keeping the citizenry pleasingly plump or trying to cash in on thinning the country down.”

  “And as luck would have it, Sheriff Gage Harris is still in the mix. I’m sure he will need a great deal of your personal attention.”

  Devyn rolled her eyes. How had she let her feelings for the Wyoming sheriff slip to Nick? She really needed some dirt on her partner, but she had never met anyone so squeaky clean. She studied him, lips pursed as she twirled her pencil. He had to have a secret, but her hands were tied when it came to uncovering his past.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The meeting with Coterie had gone better than Sofia had expected, though she feared their arrogance was dangerous. They shrugged off the exposure brought about by the fiascos in Utah and Wyoming. She agreed the authorities still had nothing to tie them personally to any of the crimes, but until the premature strike on Uinta Vitamin and Nutrition, the local authorities and the FBI had believed certain incidents were unrelated accidents.

  Coterie’s hired gun for the botched job took all the heat, which was convenient since he was dead. The quick meeting in Toronto seemed pointless since no one bothered to stand up to J.R., including her. She wasn’t sure what power the man had over her, but she was determined to keep her distance, avoid time alone with him, and assert some control over their interactions—easier said than done.

  The most valuable lessons from her childhood were to trust only herself and allow no one, especially a man, to have any control over her. Somehow, J.R. had breached her defenses, and she feared the consequences.

  Sofia was thrilled to return home and resume working toward their mission through her private lobbying firm, Buyer’s Choice Foundation. She smiled as the name ran through her mind. Most of her donors believed they were contributing to a noble cause to keep democracy alive and well by ensuring the citizenry retained the freedom of choice. When in actuality, they were funding market manipulation intended to make a small group of individuals very rich.

  “Sofia, welcome back. You survived the marathon fundraising tour, I see.”

  She smiled, happy to finally be addressed by her given name, Sofia Wilks. In the past few months, she had been Janice Green, a black-haired, brown-eyed, rigid business executive, and Candace Rogers, a modestly voluptuous, auburn-haired, green-eyed vixen.

  Pushing a lock of her natural brownish-blonde hair behind her ear, she smiled, pleased to once again be a successful professional fundraiser and lobbyist respected by most in her field. She was good at what she did and always achieved whatever results she sought by resorting to any means necessary.

  “Thank you, Justine. I can’t tell you how good it feels to be home. I fear I may be getting too old to keep up this brutal pace.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You’re only a few years older than I am but have ten times the energy. You’re an inspiration to everyone here. I can’t wait to hear how much money you pulled in on this trip. We have several new potential clients who wish to use our services. As soon as you have a few minutes, I’ll give you a briefing.”

  “Give me an hour to catch up on a few things I couldn’t take care of from the road. Then we’ll talk.”

  Buyer’s Choice Foundation employed two cutthroat lobbyists and a very competent public relations specialist, and Justine was the only other paid employee. The rest of the Foundation was staffed by eager, idealistic volunteers, usually still in college or fresh out and easily manipulated. She could rally them to support any cause.

  Sofia tried to stay behind the scenes and out of the media as much as possible. She ran the Foundation, raised money, and made sure to steer the right projects in their direction. She was considered one of the best in the business, though much of her success in that arena came easy. If anyone was shrewd enough to follow the trail, the big money would eventually lead to Coterie. The rest of the contributions kept the organization looking legitimate and above scrutiny but amounted to a small drop in a very large bucket.

  Digging out her pre-paid cell buried at the bottom of her purse, she placed a call to another untraceable number.

  “Good morning, Senator. I need you to block a merger.”

  Sofia smiled as she listened to the usual litany of excuses. This request wasn’t really in the senator’s area of influence, but she had no doubt he could call in a favor or two and prevent or stall the merger of two small weight-loss chains. Word on the street indicated they were pooling assets to create a large enough entity to compete with the top tier companies—one in particular, Maggie Blair, Inc.

  When the senator finished his arguments on why he couldn’t help her on this issue, Sofia let out an exasperated sigh. She always made sure that no matter what she asked of him, he came off looking good to his constituents, so she wasn’t sure why he always complained before yielding to her will. No one would benefit if he angered the voters in his district and lost reelection.

  “You can, and will, block or stall the merger. I know how politics work, so I expect there will be no problems. Contact me only if something arises that needs my personal attention. Otherwise, I will consider this situation controlled and your family secrets will remain safe, until next time,” Sophia stated as she disconnected.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Morgan pulled up to the wrought-iron gate and punched in her code. The gate eased open and she drove her small luxury crossover though. Easing down the narrow, paved track through the juniper and pine, the headlights pierced the darkness, sending glowing eyes skitte
ring into the underbrush. After a few minutes of slow driving, the area opened up in front of an earth-toned ranch-style stucco home.

  She pushed the button to raise the garage door. The dim light revealed her well-organized, ultra-tidy garage and her beloved old Jeep. The familiar sights made her smile. She truly loved this place.

  Her grandparents had bought the land over fifty years ago and built a modest one-room structure as a vacation retreat. They eventually added on a few more rooms, making the home more comfortable. Her parents later added a luxury master suite, garage, and the security gate. Keeping with tradition, Morgan felt she needed to do some upgrades, but until she took the job at GCF, she had lived too far away to make more than a short trip or two each year.

  She purchased a small two-bedroom duplex in Phoenix to live in during the workweek. But she planned to spend as many weekends as possible in Sedona, reconnecting with her past and trying to figure out how to move forward and live with the choices she had made.

  Morgan opened the door leading from the garage to the house, stepped inside, and flipped on the lights. She stood for a moment, taking in every detail of the living room. The family photographs brought tears to her eyes, and the sudden rush of memories made her ache with loneliness.

  She had so little family left, and she had let the only man she had ever loved slip away. Morgan had put her career first. To the casual observer, it appeared she had achieved her goals, but here she was late on a Friday night, standing alone in her loved retreat, wondering if her latest promotion was the biggest mistake of her life.