Colton Undercover
highlight_author
Jennifer D. Bokal
highlight_reads
18,1K
highlight_chapters
21
Chapter 1
Special Agent Liam Hill, FBI, sat at his desk in a cubicle. His workspace was located in the middle of a group of similar cubicles. The large, windowless room located in the FBI’s headquarters was affectionately referred to as the Rat Maze. The Hoover Building itself was named for the organization’s longest-serving director, J. Edgar Hoover. Squat, plain, yet imposing, it was reminiscent of its namesake.
His cubicle mate, Constance Hernandez, sat at a desk across from his own. For the past two weeks, Liam and Constance had been tracking down documents associated with a church outside Owl Creek, Idaho. So far, they hadn’t found enough information to bring charges. They’d received a report that the pastor was coercing his followers into giving him their life savings.
“I don’t like this as a federal violation,” said Constance. “It’s not against the law to give away cash. If people want to give all their money to this church, so be it.”
“But what if they feel as if they don’t have any choice?” He paused. “Besides, he advertises online. Communicates with potential followers through the internet. That could be wire fraud.”
“Weak sauce,” said his colleague.
He knew her opinion already. Still, Liam was determined to conduct a full investigation. It was more than his job. It was his duty. “You know, they put Al Capone in jail for tax fraud.”
Every FBI agent knew about the mob boss from the 1920s. The agency that put him in jail was a grandfather of what would become the modern-day Bureau. “In case you forgot,” said Constance, “we don’t investigate tax crimes. That’s the IRS.”
“All I’m saying is that Capone committed much worse crimes than tax evasion. But that’s what got him locked up. And jail is jail.”
Constance pursed her lips. He couldn’t tell if she was considering what he said or thinking up a new argument.
“Hill. Hernandez.” The two names were fired, like bullets. Liam looked up to find his supervisor leaning on the cubicle wall. Wayne Parsons, a Black man from Detroit, fit his name. He was the son and grandson of preachers. What’s more, he’d inherited a clear and deep baritone voice that was perfect for the pulpit. “Tell me everything you know about the Ever After Church. Start with how you came across the information.”
It was Liam who’d gotten the lead two weeks earlier. He said, “My mom’s former receptionist, Helena, joined the church after a nasty divorce. She eventually moved to their compound in the mountains. Since she had secretarial skills, she was put to work in the church’s administration building. Once she realized that the church’s leader, a guy named Markus Acker, kept most of the money being raised for personal expenses, she became disillusioned and left. She reached out to me because she remembered I was with the FBI. According to Helena, Markus has his financial records on a separate computer that is never connected to the internet.”
“That’s odd,” said Wayne.
Constance picked up the story. “I’ve been piecing together Acker’s background. He’s a shady dude, even if he’s never been charged with anything. Been pastor at several failed churches over the years.”
“Collect all your information,” said Wayne. “Kate Dubois wants a briefing.”
Assistant to the Director, or A-DIC, Kate Dubois oversaw all units that investigated financial crimes for the FBI. Constance lifted her brows. Giving a briefing to the A-DIC was a big deal. She asked, “When does Dubois want to hear from us?”
“She wants a presentation now,” said Wayne. “But I convinced her to give you ten minutes.”
“Are you kidding?” There was no way he could put together a coherent presentation in such a short amount of time.
“No joke. Get to work.” Wayne took two steps, stopped, and turned around. “Just so you both know, I put in my retirement papers yesterday. On May first, I’ll be a free man. The career board is meeting in the next few weeks to pick my replacement. The two of you are at the top of the list. Do a good job on this briefing and you might just end up with a promotion.”
For years, Liam had worked with Constance. She was a smart agent, and the closest thing to a friend he had in Washington, DC. It was a shame that she was now his rival. For too long, he’d been stuck in the warren of cubicles. He wanted the promotion and intended to get it.
“Whoever the career board picks,” he said, “no hard feelings.”
Constance sighed. “Get to work, Liam. We only have nine minutes left.”
Liam stood in front of a screen. A large conference table with room for eighteen took up most of the floor space. Chairs on casters surrounded the table. Only seven seats were filled. Aside from Liam, Constance and Wayne, the A-DIC sat at the foot of the table with her entourage of two special agents and a financial analyst.
Everyone in the room was an employee of the FBI. It was true that the Bureau didn’t assign uniforms, like in the military. But there was an unspoken dress code for those who worked at the Hoover Building. Everyone wore a dark suit. All the men were also in a white button-down shirt and a necktie. The women had all donned blouses along with understated jewelry.
Liam held a tablet computer that controlled his part of the briefing. He pointed to the enlarged image of a tax document that filled the monitor. “This is the last return filed with the IRS by the Ever After Church. As you can see, they claim only modest income. According to our sources, the church has taken in well over a million dollars this year alone through member donations.” In his opinion, the donations were coerced from those people.
“Upstairs, you mentioned something about the church’s leader having a computer that never goes online,” said Wayne. “Tell us more.”
“The CI thinks that Markus enters all his correct financial information into that device.” It felt odd to refer to Helena, a lady who used to make him cookies, as a confidential informant. But this was work—nothing personal. “Acker is the only person with access to the device.”
“So, the only way to see the information is to physically have the computer?” asked Wayne.
“That,” said Liam, “or copy the hard drive.”
“How would we do that?” asked Constance.
“Someone has to infiltrate the church,” he said.
“But that will take months—maybe even years.” Constance continued, “Does the Bureau have the resources to spare on such a small case?”
True, most financial crimes the FBI investigated were worth several million dollars or more. But other things were also true. “First, we don’t know how much Markus Acker has taken from his followers.” The amount could be astronomical—but he’d serve nobody by speculating. “Also, he’s doing more than depleting bank accounts. He’s ruining lives.”
“This case merits our attention. Markus Acker is suspected of laundering money for some nefarious organizations. The church is also connected to several deaths,” said Kate Dubois, the first words she’d spoken since the meeting began. She continued, “I’d like to hear how you plan to get an agent into the church.”
In that moment, he knew what he needed to do to get out of the Rat Maze. And how he’d get the promotion. “I wouldn’t just send any agent,” he began. “I’ll go undercover.”
“You?” Constance’s tone was filled with concern. “You haven’t been in the field, well, ever. How’re you going to handle an undercover operation?”
The thing was, she wasn’t wrong. Liam had passed his CPA exam after his first try—an unheard-of feat. He’d then applied to the Bureau and been hired at the age of twenty-four. In the last seven years, he’d been assigned to the financial crimes unit. While he’d worked a variety of cases, he spent most of his time in the Hoover Building. It left a gap in his résumé that would be filled by being the undercover agent on the case.
“But why are you the one to go undercover?” asked Wayne.
“For one,” he said, “I’m from Idaho. I grew up in Boise. It’s close to Owl Creek. So, I’ll know how to talk to the locals.”
The A-DIC said, “I don’t like it. You might run into someone from your past. Or someone who still knows your family.”
This was his moment. If he could convince the A-DIC to let him go to Owl Creek, the next move in his career would be assured. Inhaling, he began, “My parents moved to Arizona five years ago. I have one sister, Allison, who’s stationed on an airbase in Okinawa. She left seven years back when she got into the Air Force Academy.”
For a full minute, Dubois said nothing. Then, she slowly shook her head and his stomach dropped. “It’s still too close. We can’t give you an alias if it could be easily blown.” Then, with the next breath, she looked at Constance. “You have information on Markus Acker?”
Constance sat up taller. “Yes, ma’am.” Her presentation was already loaded into the smartboard and was controlled by her own laptop. She typed a few keystrokes and Markus’s face filled the screen with a professional headshot.
One couldn’t tell by the photo, but Liam knew that the other man was tall and still fit. He wore his dark blond hair short, and by the looks of it, cut by an expensive stylist. In the photo, he wore a black suit, white shirt and yellow tie.
“Markus is fifty-five years old,” Constance began. “He has degrees in both communication and finance.”
He knew all the information already and was hardly listening. How had he blown his chance to work undercover? Then again, he should be asking a different question. How could he get the A-DIC to change her mind?
The first photo was replaced by another. “I pulled this recent picture off the church’s website. The woman in the picture has been identified as Markus’s fiancée. Jessie Colton.”
His gaze snapped to the screen. He recognized the woman at once. “Damn,” he said without much thought. “She hasn’t changed at all.”
“You know Ms. Colton?” Constance asked.
How many years had it been since he’d spoken to anyone in the Colton family? The last time would’ve been the summer that Allison graduated from high school, and he entered the FBI Academy. “I used to know her, at least. She’s the mom of my kid sister’s best friend. My dad used to joke that if Sarah came over for one more sleepover, he’d be able to write her off on the taxes.” Sure, it was lame dad humor but there’d also been a nugget of truth to the jest. Sarah was constantly at his house.
“To be honest, I’m surprised that you didn’t know the subject was dating the mother of a former friend,” said the A-DIC.
A sick feeling dropped into his stomach, like he’d just stepped into something unpleasant. “Like I said, after my parents left Boise, we really haven’t kept in touch with anyone from Idaho.”
“That’s not what I meant, Special Agent Hill. You’ve been building a case on Markus Acker and the Ever After Church, have you not? You should know about his personal life,” she snapped.
There was only one thing for him to say. “You’re right, ma’am.”
“If I may,” said Constance. “Liam and I divided the work duties. Since he’s been working so closely with the financials, I did a background investigation on Acker. To be honest, this is the first time we’re sharing information.”
“I expect my teams to work as a cohesive unit. But I understand that this investigation is moving quickly. From now one, consult with one another. We’re the FBI, not the Keystone Cops for chrissake.” Leaning forward, Dubois rested her elbows on the tabletop. “The fact that you know Jessie Colton is interesting.”
“I wouldn’t say that I know her,” he said carefully. Correcting a superior was the same as swimming in dangerous waters. “But as a teenager, I knew her daughter well. Hell, she used to go on vacation with us.”
“Why is that?” asked Wayne. “What was the Colton home like?”
To be honest, Liam hadn’t thought about Sarah since he left Idaho. But now that she was top of mind, it was amazing how much he could remember. She’d been a sweet kid who liked to read. In fact, her taste in books was well beyond her years. He recalled a specific weekend that he’d come home from college. Sitting at the kitchen table, he read War and Peace while eating breakfast. Sarah wandered into the kitchen and pointed to the book in his hand. Tolstoy, huh? I liked Anna Karenina better. They’d spent the next hour talking about literature.
The squeaking of casters brought him back to the conference room. He’d been quiet for too long. He could feel Wayne’s question hanging in the air. What was the Colton home like?
He let out a long breath. “Sarah’s home life was crap. Her parents weren’t abusive, or anything like that. But her mother and father split up when she was in elementary school. Dad was only around sometimes. Mom always had a flair for the dramatic. Her brother was a good guy—older than her, younger than me.”
“Do you think she’d remember you?” A-DIC Dubois asked.
“I’d hope so,” he said, offended that anyone suggest Sarah forgot about him. “I was the one who taught her how to drive.”
Dubois leaned back in her seat. The image of Jessie Colton still filled the screen. “Special Agent Hill, you’re certain that your family hasn’t kept in touch with the crowd from Boise?”
He wasn’t sure if it were a question or a comment. Still, there was only one thing he could say. “That’s correct.”
“What about your sister?” she asked.
When the family gathered for Christmas last year, Liam and Allison had sat outside in the balmy Tucson evening. Lamenting the heat, she’d complained, “I miss Idaho. It’s not Christmas without a little snow.”
“You’re on leave,” he’d said. “You could take a week and visit old friends.”
Shaking her head, Allison had said, “I lost touch with everyone when I graduated. The Air Force Academy doesn’t leave much time for socialization—especially for people who live hundreds of miles away.”
“Even Sarah?” he’d asked, incredulous.
“Even Sarah,” she’d echoed. “I think we’re social media friends. But I never use those apps so I’m not even sure.”
Liam’s memory came and went in the span of a heartbeat. He didn’t hesitate to answer the A-DIC’s question this time. “Allison hasn’t had any contact with the Coltons, either.”
“So, neither Sarah Colton nor her mother know that you’re in the FBI.” Again, not quite a question, not quite a statement.
“Well, that’s not entirely accurate,” he said, measuring his words. “Sarah and my sister had just graduated from high school right before I headed off to Quantico for training. I assume she remembers that I was going to the academy.” Liam becoming an FBI agent had been a big deal for the family. His parents had thrown a going-away party. Of course, Sarah had attended.
“But she doesn’t know what you’re doing now.”
He knew what Dubois was thinking. His pulse began to race with excitement and apprehension both. “We haven’t been in touch personally since that summer, so I doubt she knows any more about me than I know about her.” Which was absolutely nothing.
“Do we have any intel on Jessie Colton’s children?” Dubois directed her gaze at Constance.
“Um, no, ma’am.” Her shoulders were shrugged in tight, probably preparing for another brutal comment.
Using his tablet computer, Liam accessed his sister’s little-used social media accounts. From there, he found the friends list. Sarah Colton was among those with whom Allison had connected. He followed the link to Sarah’s profile. The lanky kid with braces had been replaced by a statuesque woman. “Sarah still lives in Boise,” he said, reading the details listed on her profile. “She graduated from Boise State with a master’s degree in library sciences. She works at the downtown library. Never married. No kids. No current romantic partner. But she does have a cat named Tolstoy.”
“Where’d you get all that information?” Wayne asked.
“My sister’s social media profile,” said Liam.
“I thought you said your sister and Sarah weren’t friends anymore,” said Wayne.
Liam exited Sarah’s profile and opened his sister’s. He checked for the latest post. “Allison hasn’t accessed the account for three years but it’s still online.”
Dubois picked up a pen and tapped the end on the table. There was no other sound in the room and Liam’s heart began to beat with the tempo. “You’ve got your wish, Special Agent Hill. I’m sending you to Idaho, but you won’t be undercover per se. You’ll go to Boise and contact Sarah Colton. From there, I want you to rekindle your friendship. If she trusts you, her mother might, too. These two women are the shortest path to Acker, I can feel it.”
Liam was getting exactly what he wanted. Why was his gut twisted into knots of unease? “Sarah knows that I’m with the Bureau. Even if she’s not suspicious, her mother and Acker will be.”
“Leave that to us,” said the A-DIC. “We’ll change your life, online at least. You’ll be given a new background.” She paused, seeming to consider what to say next. “You’ll be a banker who’s in Boise looking for real estate for a client.”
“It should work,” he said. Still, the apprehension coiled in his gut.
“Of course it will work.” Dubois stood. Everyone else in the room got to their feet, as well.
Liam rose slowly. “Thank you for this opportunity, ma’am.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I expect results, Special Agent Hill. And soon.”
Dubois left. Her retinue followed.
Only Constance and Wayne remained.
“I’ll be in touch with the particulars of your background and some training to get you up to speed on undercover work,” said his supervisor. “But go home and make arrangements to leave. You’ll be out of DC soon. A word of advice?” Wayne dropped his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “You’re a good agent but don’t screw up. What happens over the next few weeks has the power to define your career for good or bad.”
“Point taken.”
With that, Wayne left the conference room.
Constance quietly packed up her laptop. For a moment, neither said anything. Finally, he cleared his throat. “I should probably thank you for covering for me with Dubois.”
She gave a quiet laugh. “You probably should.” She zipped up her bag before saying, “Looks like that promotion will be yours when you get back.”
She was probably right. Still, he knew enough to say, “You never know. You’re a hell of an agent.”
“It’s probably for the best. My wife doesn’t like all the late hours I’m keeping now. Although the raise would’ve helped to pay for IVF.” His work friend had shared the cost of each round of in vitro fertilization. The cost was astronomical. It almost made him feel guilty for wanting the promotion so damn bad.
Slipping the strap of her computer bag over her shoulder, she continued, “I’ll keep looking into Markus Acker’s personal life. Anything I find that’s germane will get passed on.”
“I appreciate having you in my corner.”
“Just remember me when you’re assistant to the director and get to pick your own minions,” she joked.
He laughed. “It’s a deal. Although, you’ll never be a minion.”
With a small wave, she slipped through the door and was gone. It left him alone. He knew he should be happy about the case—elated, really. He’d gotten the chance to prove that he was a capable field agent and not just another bean counter with a badge and gun.
Yet, blood hummed through his veins and left him jittery.
Was it because this would be his first foray out of the confines of Washington, DC? Or was there more?
He picked up his tablet computer and pressed the home button. His sister’s social media account was still open. Instead of exiting the app, he found Sarah Colton’s profile for a second time. In the picture, she wore a light blue dress and held her striped tabby, Tolstoy. Her light brown hair brushed the tops of her shoulders, and the corners of her green eyes crinkled with her smile. The last time he saw her, she’d been a skinny kid, barely out of high school and only eighteen years old. The long lines of youth had been replaced with womanly curves.
Looking at her profile, he sighed. He knew what was bothering him and why.
It was no secret that Sarah had harbored a huge crush on Liam when they were growing up. For years, he didn’t care. After all, she was just a kid. But all of that changed right before he went away to the FBI Academy. Sarah, who’d recently turned eighteen years old, mentioned that she was legally an adult but still hadn’t gotten her driver’s license.
He remembered the conversation like it happened last week and not over seven years ago.
“Why no license?” he’d asked.
Sarah sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. “Nate tried to teach me,” she said, mentioning her brother. “But we fought. Mom tried, but she freaked out.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I make progress with Dad, but he’s not around much.”
“I’m home for a few weeks. I can take you out,” he offered, happy to fill his days somehow.
It had only taken a week’s worth of lessons and she passed the test on the first try.
Outside the DMV, she proudly held up her temporary license. With a big smile on her face, she’d announced, “I couldn’t have gotten this without you.”
He’d been so proud that he’d opened his arms for a hug.
She stepped into his embrace, and an instant later her lips found his.
Even now, his face burned with shame. Over the years he’d seen the looks on Sarah’s face each time she glanced in his direction. He’d been a fool to ignore her longing.
He stepped away. “Sarah,” he mumbled, the feeling of her kiss still on his lips. “I can’t. We can’t. I’m so much older than you.”
Her eyes flooded with tears. “I just thought. I hoped.” She wiped her cheeks with her sleeve and dropped her gaze. “Ohmigod, I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “It happened once, but it can’t happen again.”
She ran off crying. In the moment, he convinced himself that it was best to let her go. Even then, he knew that he should have done or said something.
He left for the FBI Academy a week later. Sarah attended his going-away party but the two didn’t speak to the other.
He glanced once more at her profile picture. Soon, he was going to have to face the grown-up version of Sarah Colton. And to be honest, he wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he was going to get.
