A Taste of Tragedy Page 3

  Shaking off all the negative thoughts, she turned on more lights and the television. Bathed in a warm glow and filled with sound, the place felt less lonely. She quickly unpacked her bags and then placed a Healthy and Delicious Foods entrée into the microwave.

  While she waited, she checked each room. Morgan was relieved to see everything looked just the way she left it the last time she visited nearly a year ago. Except for a thick layer of dust and enough cobwebs to make her wonder where the architects were hiding, nothing had changed.

  She poured a glass of wine and sat on one of the stools at the island separating the kitchen and living room. She sipped the inexpensive pinot noir while she opened her personal laptop and hit the power button.

  As she watched the computer run through its diagnostics, her mind wandered back over the past week. Once again, she questioned her latest decision. She didn’t know a lot about GCF, but she had built a career in saving failing products or returning declining products to their former glory. She enjoyed the challenge and always succeeded.

  If she were completely honest with herself, this particular career change had been strongly influenced by her desire to move to Arizona. She never let her heart influence career or business decisions and wondered if it had been a mistake to allow her emotions to enter the equation this time. The family home in Sedona was the only tangible tie to her past that remained, though there really was no longer any family to merit the title.

  Morgan logged onto her personal e-mail and found a couple of messages from old friends and one from her cousin. She smiled and relaxed with the knowledge that she wasn’t totally alone in the world.

  Wanting to call her cousin as requested in the message, Morgan grabbed her purse and began digging for her cell phone. Her fingers brushed over the flash drive she had stowed earlier in the evening. She pulled the tiny device out and stared at it, wondering if it belonged to her predecessor, Stan Jacobson. If so, was she violating his privacy if she tried to look at whatever it held?

  Morgan knew her curiosity would prevent her from sleeping if she didn’t at least try to see what resided on the tiny device. She inserted the drive into the port on the side of her computer, hoping there were no security measures in place to prevent her from accessing whatever data it held. Once the drive was recognized, she clicked on the first document of the three listed.

  She was relieved to see the file wasn’t password protected. The document appeared to be an e-mail, converted to and saved as a pdf file. She scanned the page, reread it, and then opened the next. Finally retrieving the last, she was confused and stunned by the contents.

  “Don’t overreact until you know the facts and talk to Preston on Monday morning,” she advised herself.

  Morgan saved the documents on the hard drive of her personal computer and then put the flash drive back in her purse. Retrieving her cell phone from her bag, she dialed her cousin’s number, hoping a conversation with her best friend and closest relative would push the unsettling messages from her mind.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Devyn read through all the new data which had been uploaded onto the Risky Research database throughout the weekend. She wasn’t surprised to learn all but one of her fellow FBI agents had gotten the local investigator to crack and confess to submitting bogus accident reports. Unfortunately, none of the officers had any information that could help them identify the source of the bribes.

  All incidents followed the same scenario—a large initial payment with instructions on filling out the report was left in a bus station locker with the key hidden at the officer’s personal residence. Each officer received an untraceable call at home telling them where the key was and offering additional money if the report held up. All instructions were wrapped in a thinly veiled threat against the officer’s family if they chose not to cooperate.

  “Anything new?” Nick asked as he sat down at his desk facing Devyn’s.

  “Nothing too helpful. All but one agent got the local investigator to confess to submitting a false accident report, but none provided any clue as to who’s behind the bribes and threats. At least that should dissolve any lingering doubts about these incidents being accidents. I’ll give you one guess as to which agent was unsuccessful.”

  Nick chuckled. “By the tone of your voice, I have to assume it was Sacramento.”

  “Surprise, surprise. You find anything?”

  “I located where Janice Green lived for the brief time she was in the area. As I’m sure you can imagine, she left nothing behind that can help us track her down or figure out her true identity. I found a street bum who had plenty to say about her, but nothing useful or that I care to repeat in front of a lady. Or you.”

  Nick ducked to the right, dodging the stress ball aimed at his head, and snagged it out of the air. He didn’t acknowledge the attack as he squeezed the ball and smiled at Devyn, enjoying the frustrated look in her eyes. “What about the surveillance case?”

  “Tech’s on it.”

  “Anything new out of Wyoming?”

  “How would I know?”

  “Come on, Devyn, you can’t seriously tell me you haven’t talked to Sheriff Gage Harris today.”

  Devyn shot a look at Nick that would have made weaker men flinch. “The two guys who survived the siege in Wyoming are out of the hospital and are due in court. They’re being charged with arson, auto theft, murder, and conspiracy to commit murder, to name a few, so they’ll likely go to prison for the rest of their lives. They still claim all dealings were with the assassin we only know as Frank, who was hired by Coterie to silence the UVN researchers in Utah and Wyoming, so no leads there either.”

  “Didn’t expect any. What next?”

  “I’m compiling a list of all pharmaceutical research, development, manufacturing, and testing companies in the U.S. When I’m done, we can split them up and start making calls. We’ll ask if they have any new hires that meet Janice’s description, if there have been any unusual accidents or incidents, and if they are working on any new products that would have a significant impact on the diet product industry. Basically, we’ll put them on notice so they’ll be extra diligent and call us directly if anything out of the ordinary happens.”

  Nick leaned forward and set the stress ball on Devyn’s desk. “Let me know when you have the list. In the meantime, the security footage from the airport, bus stations, and car rental agencies we requested for the timeframe when Janice probably left town still needs to be analyzed. My original request for Tech to run it through all our databases using facial recognition software got pushed back due to more pressing cases, and then a crashed server stalled the project even further, but looks like they’re finally on it.”

  “Well, I hope something breaks soon or I’m afraid we’ll be sitting inside a surveillance van with Gordo and Fitz.”

  “Could be worse. Gordo’s mom always makes homemade cinnamon rolls whenever we’re on a stakeout.”

  Devyn giggled. “Yep, those sweet gooey rolls are so good that it almost makes up for having to sit for hours in a van listening to Gordo expound on the glories of being a level-eight dragon master, dungeon king, or whatever he is now days.”

  “You’re making me hungry. Let’s grab an early lunch.”

  Devyn swiped the keys off her desk and tossed them at Nick. He snatched them out of the air without breaking his stride and flung them right back at her.

  “You drive. I’m feeling a little sleepy and could use the adrenaline rush brought on by the near-death experience that usually accompanies being a passenger when you’re behind the wheel.”

  Devyn glared at him, trying to hide her smile. “Keep it up, and one day the gnome pays,” she stated as she strode toward the stairs with Nick in tow.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Morgan downed her third cup of coffee, needing the caffeine to counteract the lack of sleep. It had been a very short weekend, and not at all as relaxing as she had envisioned. She didn’t reach Sedona until late on Friday night, and aft
er reading the documents she found copied onto the hidden flash drive by her predecessor, it had taken her hours to clear her mind enough to sleep.

  Saturday and Sunday flew by in a flurry of cleaning and conducting a few minor repairs. She changed a couple burnt out light bulbs, replaced a piece of screen some desert rodent chewed through, and unsuccessfully tried to get the Jeep running. Despite keeping busy, she was unable to rid her mind of the bothersome thoughts floating through her head.

  Sunday night was basically nonexistent. Even though she had gone to bed early, the knowledge that she had to get up at 4:00 a.m. Monday morning in order to make it back to Phoenix in time for work and would need to meet with Preston Hoyle about the files kept her from truly sleeping.

  Now, she sat at her office desk staring at the tiny device resting on her palm, listening as the building slowly came to life. After a few moments, she inserted the drive into her work computer. One-by-one, she pulled up the three files and printed them out.

  The first was an e-mail to Stan Jacobson from Dexter Fowler, an analyst at Smith & Brown Consumer Analytics and Product Testing, dated six months earlier. The message stated that MFHG3, the new sweetener GCF had begun using nearly a year ago, seemed to stimulate the appetite rather than curb the appetite, which shouldn’t happen since GCF claimed the product contained hoodia gordinii. He noted that he had only been able to isolate trace amounts of steroidal glycosides, indicating the amount of hoodia in the product was far less than claimed. He also detected an unknown synthetic with similar properties to the plant’s active ingredient, possibly being used as a non-natural substitute for hoodia. Further testing was needed, but Dexter recommended GCF cease using the product until he obtained more conclusive data.

  The second e-mail, dated five months ago, confirmed Dexter’s original findings and alluded to issues of much greater concern. He reiterated his earlier warning to quit using the product.

  In the third e-mail, dated just over three months ago, Dexter stated that MFHG3, if used in sufficient quantity over an extended period of time, not only stimulated the appetite, but was also highly addictive. He also believed that the unusual synthetic he detected could possibly be carcinogenic, but absolute confirmation was beyond his level of expertise and the sample would need further testing from someone with more specialized experience. He stated he wouldn’t be able to meet with his supervisor for several weeks since the head of testing was currently at a conference and wouldn’t return until after Dexter got back from vacation. If his supervisor agreed with his initial assessment, they would have no choice but to report the findings to the appropriate government agencies.

  Morgan wasn’t sure how to proceed. Stan must have kept this information to himself, since the sweetener was still in use. If he had gone to Preston Hoyle, the product would have been pulled. Smith & Brown apparently didn’t report the product’s issues or the sweetener would have been discontinued, and she would have heard about it. Bad news in the industry always traveled fast.

  The only other scenario she could imagine, which she prayed had no merit, was that Stan had told Preston, and that’s why he was gone, along with all his work. She couldn’t ignore the e-mails, but she had a bad feeling her tenure with GCF was going to be very short, no matter how she handled the situation.

  Taking a deep breath, Morgan pressed the button on her phone, calling Aaron.

  “I need to talk to Mr. Hoyle as soon as possible. Rearrange my schedule to make it work if needed, it’s important.”

  “What shall I tell his assistant this is concerning?”

  Morgan thought for a moment, not sure how much she should divulge to Aaron, but knowing how diligent assistants were about vetting what was or wasn’t truly important before allowing meetings with their bosses.

  “Some troubling communications Stan Jacobson left behind,” Morgan stated, hanging up before Aaron could press her for more.

  It took several minutes before Aaron rang back. “I’m sorry, but the best I could do is 5:00 p.m. and he only has thirty minutes available. His in-laws are still in town. I told his assistant it was very important that you speak to Mr. Hoyle as soon as possible and asked her to call if anything changes throughout the day and a few minutes open up at an earlier time.”

  “That will have to do. Thanks for trying.”

  Not knowing what else she could do about her concerns at the moment, Morgan decided to head down to the factory and visit with Wiley Hartman. As long as she had a job, she would focus on her goals of increasing profits, which entailed learning as much as possible about the production process and trying to identify if there were any places to streamline operations.

  Donning the lab-type coat required in the food processing area, she locked the printed exchange between Stan Jacobson and Dexter Fowler in her top desk drawer and locked her computer. Leaving the posh confines of her corporate office, she headed for the sterile environment of the manufacturing facility.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “What are you smiling about?” Nick asked as Devyn approached his desk.

  “When I told Conroy that Sacramento was the only one who couldn’t get the local investigator to cave, he called Sacramento’s SAC. Conroy explained to him that even though Smith & Brown is located in California, the incident happened in Utah, so anything involving the local investigation should now be ours, including rattling the investigator’s cage,” Devyn responded as she slid a hip onto Nick’s desk and picked up the mariachi-themed gnome with a guitar slung over its shoulder.

  “So does this mean we’re taking a drive up into the canyon?” As he spoke, Nick took the figurine from her hand and returned it gently to his desk.

  “What’s with the gnome, and what’s supposed to be in his empty extended hand?”

  “Nothing. Stay on topic, Devyn.”

  “You won’t even let me touch it. I heard that Gardner hid it once and sent you a ransom note as a joke. Rumor has it that he showed up at work with a black eye he claimed he got from a falling branch while trimming trees in his backyard, and the gnome was returned.”

  “I’m sure the two events were in no way connected. He just had a change of heart and apparently, he’s not much of a handyman. So, who responded to the incident—the local marshal’s office or the County Unified Police Department Canyon Patrol?”

  Devyn knew the gnome discussion was over, since it wasn’t the first time she had tried to find out what the creepy little guy’s significance was to Nick. She dropped the subject, for now.

  “Both responded to what was reported as an accident, but an officer from the Unified Police filed the official report. I didn’t tell anyone we’re coming since people seem to disappear whenever we want to talk about the incidents. I did verify, though, that Officer Moody, who investigated the Dexter Fowler fatality, is on duty today. I requested a copy of the autopsy from the county medical examiner, which should be here by the time we get back. I also did a little digging into Moody’s bank accounts and looked for any recent large deposits or purchases. I didn’t find anything unusual. Maybe he’s just a little smarter and a lot more cautious than the others.”

  “Let’s hope so. The investigator for the Kathleen Parker incident shook my confidence in law enforcement when he tried to put five grand in cash down on a car right after being questioned by the FBI,” Nick replied as he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.

  The drive to the precinct headquarters of the Unified Police, which had handled the report for the ski incident involving the Smith & Brown analyst, went quickly. Devyn and Nick didn’t bother to discuss their plan since it was becoming predictable. Nick would do most of the talking with the precinct commander. If they had to resort to the clichéd “good cop bad cop” routine when talking to the investigator, they both knew who would assume the bad cop role.

  They entered the precinct building and Nick flashed his badge and a killer smile at the woman behind the glass. She smiled back and batted her eyes at Nick while ignoring Devyn. After Nick ex
plained to the woman in his smooth deep voice why they had come and who they were looking for, she made a call and then ushered them to the commander’s office.

  Devyn often wished she had the skills to charm people into cooperating, but she just didn’t have the patience. The trait was one of many that made Nick such a good partner. He oozed charisma. Sometimes, they needed to force the issue, and that was more her forte. They complemented each other.

  “Special Agent Nick Melonis, and my partner, Special Agent Devyn Nash,” Nick stated with a nod in Devyn’s direction.

  Devyn shook the commander’s hand and listened as Nick explained why they had come. He asked to speak to the officer who investigated the skiing fatality and to examine any physical evidence recovered from the scene.

  “Next time I’d appreciate a call first. I could have made sure the investigator was in the office when you arrived. Fortunately, he’s not too far off. I’ll have someone escort you down to the evidence room and you can take a look at what we have while you’re waiting. I’m afraid there’s not much. I recall we boxed up any pieces of the skis we could locate, and that was about all there was to collect. A guy skiing way too fast in rugged and steep out-of-bounds terrain hits a tree and breaks his neck. It seems like a pretty clear cut accident, but I always believe in cooperation. If you want to rehash the incident, be my guests,” the commander stated in a matter-of-fact yet professional tone.

  “As Agent Melonis stated, there have been a number of incidents tied to research and pharmaceutical companies that have turned out to be crimes and not accidents. We’re just following up to make sure all related incidents are truly accidents,” Devyn replied.

  The commander shrugged his shoulders and then picked up the phone and issued several requests. Shortly after he hung up, a woman in uniform entered the room and asked Devyn and Nick to follow her.

  “Thank you for your assistance,” Nick said as he and Devyn followed the officer from the room.