A Taste of Tragedy (3 page)

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
.

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 skittering 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.

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
.

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
.