A Taste of Tragedy

by Kim McMahill

  Even though he made a good living, an FBI agent’s salary was never enough. He tried to come up with compromises to avoid losing her. She had expected him to follow her career, clearly used to getting everything she set her sights on and worked for. His pride wouldn’t allow her to win.

  Nick picked up the sticky note with the name of the man she was looking for. A quick search on the computer, and he found the obituary she mentioned. He pulled up a number for the Phoenix police and was quickly able to ascertain this was her Stan.

  According to the police report, the man had died of a drug overdose, and there was no evidence of foul play. He had no family, and had recently been fired from a six-figure job at Giant Cactus Foods. Open and shut case. Nick mulled over the information and knew she wouldn’t be pleased or satisfied with the news. When something bothered her or she wanted something, she could be frighteningly persistent.

  Nick had a feeling there was much more to the story than she had relayed during their earlier conversation. He glanced at the clock and noted his shift was about over. There wasn’t a lot of privacy with a dozen agents scattered around one large room. It was often noisy, even though he and Devyn had staked their claim on the furthest corner from the main flow of traffic.

  Not wanting to make a personal call from work, he decided to wait until he got home for the evening. He craved hearing her voice, but it also brought back a longing he had yet to conquer.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Any word from Mr. Hoyle?” Morgan asked as she stopped at Aaron’s desk.

  “No. I would have tracked you down as requested.”

  “See if you can reach him. I need to speak to him.”

  Morgan entered her office and walked to the expanse of windows overlooking the city. She gazed at the snarl of cars below. Rush hour was just heating up as multiple lanes of interstate traffic clogged up every artery leaving the city. The workday was about over, and she didn’t want to leave without answers.

  She pulled out her cell phone and could see that her ex-husband hadn’t tried to call her. It had been more than twenty-four hours, barely, since her meeting with Preston, and nothing from him either. All the waiting was driving her crazy, making her feel helpless and only increasing her sense that something was very wrong.

  The phone on her desk buzzed. She pressed the blinking button. “Yes, Aaron?”

  “Mr. Hoyle’s assistant said he has left the building for the evening for an important meeting, and he’s not expected back tonight. She will leave him a message to call you first thing in the morning.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, trying to keep her voice level and calm despite the overwhelming frustration consuming her.

  If she didn’t think Preston would fire her, she would call Dr. Chen and check the status of the analysis. She hadn’t been introduced to anyone else in Research and Development, and she and Dr. Chen had definitely not hit it off. She was given the impression that she shouldn’t interact with him or anyone else in R & D without going through Preston. She assumed that would be particularly true in this instance.

  Morgan checked her calendar, and she had no more appointments or meetings scheduled for the rest of the day. A quick perusal through her e-mail confirmed nothing new had shown up that couldn’t wait until morning. There was nothing more she could do to get the answers she needed, so she logged off her computer and locked her desk.

  She shook her head at the futile act. Even without the flimsy key, she knew Aaron would have no problem violating her privacy if the order came from Preston. What have I gotten myself into?

  Gathering her light jacket and purse, she left her office, giving Aaron a brief and professional goodbye before entering the elevator. As the elevator descended, it stopped at several floors. Employees entered whom she didn’t recognize. No one spoke to anyone else on the slow descent. Everyone except her exited at the main floor lobby, and after several seconds the elevator continued down.

  The parking garage was located below ground level. True to form, it was darker than prudent and not a place she wanted to hang out in for long. She quickly scanned the garage before stepping out of the elevator. Morgan knew this would do little to spot someone crouched down behind a car, but it was habit she had practiced since her college years.

  She strode briskly to her car, punching the button on the fob she clutched in her hand to unlock the doors before she reached the vehicle. Slipping into the driver’s seat, she locked the doors and tossed her purse on the passenger’s seat with a little more force than necessary, sending it tumbling to the floor.

  Leaning over, Morgan reached for her handbag and her fingers brushed over a hard plastic item. She knew what it was even before seeing it. She was torn between relief and panic. She had searched the floors and under the seats of her car thoroughly the night before. The garage door opener was not there, she was certain.

  Morgan couldn’t explain it, so she stuck the small device back on the visor and drove out of the garage. She had to have missed it in her panic the night before. There was no other explanation that didn’t send chills racing down her spine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Sofia left the office and walked across the street to the park. Spring was rapidly approaching, and the cherry blossoms where starting to appear, making the city seem like a lovely place to live rather than a hotbed for deceit and self-serving careers. She chuckled. Yes, she had landed in the right place.

  Pulling out her burner phone, she punched in a number she had memorized from years of repeated used. “What’s the status on the merger, Senator?” she asked.

  “I didn’t see how I could block it without generating suspicion, but I managed to get one of my issues prioritized above the presentation and consideration of the merger. This will delay any discussion on the matter for at least six months.”

  “Not good enough. I wanted this to go away. Permanently.”

  “Why do you care if two medium-sized weight-loss chains merge to create a company large enough to compete with the couple of giants at the top? You don’t have any stock in the top-tier companies. I checked.”

  Sofia felt heat creeping into her cheeks. She was furious. She couldn’t believe he had looked into her personal financial portfolio. In his situation, she would have done the same, but she would have never been stupid enough to admit it. She filed the piece of information away for later.

  He would have to pay for prying, not that he could unearth anything that really mattered. On the surface, she looked like a successful business woman. Few people had the skills to peel back enough layers to discover her true wealth or its source. And the secrets she harbored to keep him in line were hers alone to divulge.

  “My motives are none of your business. You are to do exactly as I say and your secrets are safe.”

  “I’m getting tired of doing your dirty work. And newsflash, sweetheart, extra-marital affairs have been going on with D.C. politicians for decades and will likely continue for many more to come. Besides, Dad is getting old and forgetful. If any of his old mistresses surface, he can feign forgetfulness. He might just say he doesn’t care what people think, and any story that pops up will die quickly if he doesn’t fight back. I don’t want to hurt my mother, but she’s tough and she’s not stupid or naïve. I’m sure she was well aware of Dad’s activities back then.”

  Sofia didn’t like the turn the conversation was taking. The senator had always been a good, obedient sheep, not wanting to soil the family image, but he sounded different today.

  “Listen closely. Your old man wasn’t just a philanderer. You do not want to cross me or the truth will destroy your family.”

  There was a moment of silence. She doubted it was the words that stunned him, but more her delivery. She was good at conveying more than she spoke, which was one of the many traits that had made her so successful in the underbelly of politics.

  “I’ll figure something out by the time the merger reaches committee,” he replied and disconnected.

/>   The last few days were starting to fill Sofia with a sense of foreboding. She and her colleagues had operated under the radar for years. A few market manipulations here and there, along with some blackmail, small bribes, and controlling certain research breakthroughs, and they had all gotten very rich.

  Sofia enjoyed the wealth, but most importantly, she had felt in total control of her destiny. There was nothing she feared and detested more than being at another person’s mercy. But, ever since the debacle with Uinta Vitamin, she sensed the authorities closing in, she no longer felt she had the option of telling J.R. no, and now her useful senator was prying into her personal life and challenging her dominance.

  She didn’t want to show her hand to the senator since it would mean having to relive a part of her life she had successfully buried deep down inside. If he continued to become emboldened, she feared the truth would have to be told in order to maintain his unquestioned obedience.

  Stowing her phone at the bottom of her purse, Sofia strolled past a dozen food trucks until she reached her favorite. She ordered a falafel sandwich and waited in the shade until her number was called.

  She ate her falafel as she made her way back to the office. She had a couple more meetings left before calling it a day, one with a potential donor and one with a new client who wanted her organization to lobby for looser regulations on telemarketing.

  Whatever the client wants, as long as they pay, she thought, though she wasn’t sure how much looser the regs could get. Companies already accessed so much personal information on individuals in order to conduct targeted marketing that it would make the average citizen shudder if they truly knew how much of their private information was on the open market for anyone to use. And the “Do Not Call” list was a joke riddled with loopholes and basically unenforceable.

  She finished her sandwich, crunched up the wrapper, and tossed it in the nearest can. By the time she reached her office, she was ready to schmooze for money and act interested in a group of parasites’ desire to harass citizens in their homes. She didn’t care about their issues, just their money. As long as they ponied up, her firm would lobby until they effected change, good or bad.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Morgan dried the last dish and placed it in the cupboard. She had a dishwasher but hated to run the machine for the few meager dishes she generated. By the time she could actually fill it, food would be so crusted on she doubted anything could scrub them clean.

  Pulling her cell phone out of her back shorts pocket, she stared at the sleeping screen, willing it to ring. She wasn’t sure if she was more interested in finding Stan Jacobson or hearing her ex’s voice.

  When he said he would look into her issue, she had no doubt he would find the answer she sought, despite how things ended between them. His job was important and he was very good at what he did. She realized too late that she should have understood how much it meant to him and considered the compromises he had laid out. People like him were needed, and they didn’t make nearly enough money for the sacrifices they made and the risks they took.

  What do I contribute to society, besides healthy donations to a couple charities? Morgan considered the question as she wandered into the living room.

  She had spent her adult life scrambling up the corporate ladder. She didn’t need the money. Her parents had left her plenty, but she toiled out of fear of being the first in the family to fail. She had broken up her marriage, stepped on plenty of toes, pushed ahead of those who probably needed the money to raise a family, and turned marginal products into huge successes. This time, she may have found her limit of what she was willing to do to succeed. If the claims about MFHG3 had merit, she couldn’t look the other way.

  The phone rang and she picked it up on the first ring, chastising herself for appearing too eager.

  “Morgan, it’s Nick.”

  “Thanks for calling back.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have good news. The man in the obituary is the Stan Jacobson you replaced. His death was a drug overdose. There was no evidence indicating foul play.”

  “Was it accidental or suicide?”

  “There was no note left behind, if that’s what you’re asking, so there’s really no way to be sure. He had no family, had gotten fired from a huge job and hadn’t located another, and was starting to accumulate a lot of debt, so suicide seems the most likely scenario.”

  Even though Morgan had suspected the outcome, she had hoped for different news. At least his death was at his own hand, or so it seemed. If his death was under questionable circumstances, it would have freaked her out.

  “Thanks for checking. I really hated to ask, but I felt it might be important.”

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “There’s a lot. Most of it has to do with confidential work stuff concerning one of our products, and some is probably just an overactive imagination. I know you’re busy. I’m sorry to waste your time.”

  “Morgan, you haven’t called me in nearly a year. Are you in trouble?”

  “I don’t think so. Well, maybe I’ll get fired for asking too many questions.”

  “You don’t sound too upset about that prospect.”

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think since the divorce. I’ve come to the realization I may have had some misguided priorities. If my boss wants to get rid of me for trying to make sure we’re putting out a safe quality product, then so be it. I’ve made some marginal decisions along the road to get where I am that I can’t say I’m entirely proud of.”

  “Do you want me to come down for a long weekend? We can talk, and maybe I can help.”

  Morgan was afraid she might cry, and she desperately wanted to say yes. She knew Nick seldom got a weekend off, and after not speaking for so long, he was still willing to drop everything and fly down to Phoenix to listen to her problems. She had been such a fool to let him go.

  “I can’t ask you to do that. I know you hardly ever get a weekend off, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “You’re not asking, I’m volunteering. Maybe I should have tried a little harder to take a few more weekends off.”

  She had to end the call quickly. Even though she loved hearing his voice, if she broke down and sobbed, he’d probably jump on a plane tonight. She didn’t feel worthy of such a selfless act after her selfish decisions in their relationship. He hated to see her cry and had always tried so hard to make things better.

  “I’ll think about it. I had hoped I’d have some answers today that would help me decide what to do about the job, but surely by tomorrow, I’ll know more. I took the job because it sounded like a challenge, but also to spend more time in Sedona. I may just spend a lot more time in Sedona than originally planned,” she said with a chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “Will you call me tomorrow night? I can tell whatever you’re going through at work is really bothering you, and I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  She doubted it was a good idea to continue contact with Nick, but it felt good to talk to him. She knew that despite everything that happened, he would be there for her if she needed him. He was just that kind of guy.

  “Yes, I’ll call, but I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  Morgan disconnected. She sat for a moment in silence, hoping that there truly was nothing to worry about and that everything would be fine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Hey, Devyn, everything’s ready for the stakeout tonight. It’ll be great. Mom made cinnamon rolls this morning for breakfast and sent all the leftovers for tonight,” Gordo stated as he caught her as she exited the elevator.

  “Great. Unless something else comes up, I guess we’ll meet back here at eight.”

  “Fitz and I will be here with the van, ready to roll,” he replied, nearly skipping alongside her as she strode toward her desk.

  “Is there anything else you want me to bring? Do you still drink your coffee black?”

  “Yep, black’s good. In f
act, I wouldn’t mind a cup now if you’re heading to the break room. I’m still not quite awake.”

  “Sure, I’ll be right back.”

  Devyn didn’t appreciate Gordo’s enthusiasm. The people who really knew her avoided chipper chitchat until at least after her first cup of coffee, but she didn’t have the heart to snap at him. With most people, she didn’t really care, but she hated seeing the hurt look in his innocent, if not a little too over-eager, eyes.

  “Please tell me something else has come up,” Devyn stated while glaring at the satisfied expression on Nick’s face.

  “Actually, I made good progress on the Risky Research case while you were on your date with Sheriff Harris. Unfortunately, though, nothing that should interrupt tonight’s stakeout.”

  Devyn opened her mouth to argue about Nick’s “date” comment, but then her mind flashed back to the steamy kiss they had shared and the flirtatious teasing over lunch, and she decided to let it go. She forced her mind back to the issue at hand and listened as Nick filled her in on Frank’s identity, the small amount of history he’d uncovered on the man’s life, and the link of large bank deposits coinciding with the timing of all the known pharmaceutical incidents.

  “Interesting that Frank hails from one of the most important biopharmaceutical manufacturing areas in the world,” Devyn stated.

  Nick’s fingers flew across the keyboard and he quickly scanned several articles his search turned up.

  “Hmm, about fifty of the eighty pharmaceutical plants scattered across Puerto Rico are FDA approved. The industry accounts for over a quarter of the country’s gross domestic product. It’s the fifth largest pharmaceutical manufacturing area in the world and the third largest biotechnology manufacturer.”