by Lynne Silver
Since the bottom-line dollar amount the auction made each year was a point of competition among the yearly chairs, Casey knew she’d hit upon a hot button. “Why don’t you two get some proposals from other companies and then present your findings to the auction committee when you have some new data?”
Mrs. Cho and Mrs. Forrest glanced at each other. It wasn’t the answer they’d wanted, but Casey refused to spend hours of her day calling caterers only to discover an answer she already knew. No one else was going to meet the price of their existing contract.
“All right,” one woman said slowly as they rose and prepared to leave.
Casey opened her office door to usher them out and was startled to see Matthew Melles waiting outside. Matt was a man she’d met through work, and they’d gone out for drinks a few weeks ago. She’d only received one text from him after their date, so she was surprised to see him. “Hi, Matt. What are you doing here?”
“Ms. Cooper, introduce us to your friend,” Mrs. Forrest said in a flirtatious tone as she eyed Matt’s tall frame.
Casey had to acknowledge that he was ridiculously handsome in a prep-school way. With his perfectly coiffed black hair that had the right amount of product, and a suit that looked more Manhattan than D.C., Casey could see how he’d appeal to the women. All women. “This is Matthew Melles, and I’m glad you’re meeting him because he owns a tutoring and online test-prep company. Maybe you’ve heard of it? It’s called Test Ace.”
Both women shook their heads.
“We guarantee to raise your child’s GPA by a third and add one hundred points to their SAT score.” Like a magician, Matt pulled his company card from a hidden breast pocket and handed one to each woman. “The best part is that all services are online so your kids with their busy schedules can find the time.” He gave them a dentist’s dream smile. “And you don’t have to schlep them anywhere.”
The women each slipped a card into their oversize pocketbooks and smiled at Matt before exiting. When they were gone, Casey rolled her chair back to her business side of the desk, then spun, surprised Matt had followed her. His pale pink shirt was a centimeter away from her lips. Close enough to smell his strong aftershave.
“Oh, um…” Casey was blocked in at her back and side by her desk.
He moved even closer, leaning down for a kiss. Their date had been fine, but she didn’t think they were on hello-kiss status yet. She turned her cheek and let him buss it.
“I didn’t know you were back in town,” she said inanely. He’d been in Florida last week as he’d explained via the text.
“I got back this morning and couldn’t wait to see you.”
“Wow. Really?”
“Of course.” He smiled and gave her space, moving back to lounge on her couch as if he owned it. “I had a great time on our date. I was hoping we could go for dinner tonight, so I stopped by to ask.”
“That’s really sweet.” And it was. She’d been iffy on the date. On paper, Matt was the perfect guy and good-looking to boot, but he hadn’t pushed Casey’s buttons. Perhaps she should give him another chance. Professional, handsome single men were a hot commodity in D.C. It wasn’t smart to nix one because she hadn’t wanted to jump in bed with him after an hour together. “All right. I should be finished with work around six.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up then.” He stood. “Thanks for introducing me to those moms. They’re the opinion makers and my bread and butter.”
“It was no problem. Happy to help. Of course the school can’t officially recommend one test-prep service over another, but we do keep a list of recommended tutors and prep companies. I can try to find out how you get your name on the list.”
“That would be great.” He came closer as if he were going to try to kiss her again, but instead he glanced at her desktop. “Wow, that’s an old computer. I thought at a school like this, you’d be kitted out with the latest tech.”
“They save that for the students. We employees get the old stuff, but the hope is to upgrade everyone’s system with money raised at the auction this year, so cross your fingers we raise enough.”
He raised a hand with all his fingers crossed. It looked as though he’d had a manicure. While Casey was an equal opportunist and liked that a man was into personal grooming, she wasn’t sure how she felt about Matt’s fingers being as nice as hers. “Good luck. See you later,” he called as he exited her office.
FBI Cyber Action Team Office, Washington, D.C., Present Day
The invitation to hell popped into Sam’s personal email in-box two minutes before he was headed to lunch. His appetite jumped ship as fast as a puppy went after a tennis ball. How had they even gotten his email address? As far as he knew, he’d left his prep school days behind with no plans to return. Ever. Not even for his ten-year reunion.
Agent Suarez peeked over the cubicle wall. “Cooper, you ready to go?” Sam looked up from his screen. Suarez stepped fully into his office space. “Need a rain check?”
“No, why?” Sam asked.
“You look like my pregnant wife does every morning before she loses her midnight snack. Need a bucket?” Jack bent to lift the small trash can in the corner and thrust it toward Sam, who recoiled.
“I’m not going to vomit. Put my trash can down.” He rose and grabbed his jacket. “Let’s go.”
As the men wound through the maze of cubicles and private offices toward the exit, Jack asked, “What put that look on your face? Work or personal?”
Sam unconsciously patted the phone in his pocket. “I got an email invitation to my ten-year high school reunion.”
“So?” Jack asked. “What’s terrible about that? No date, and you want a hot woman on your arm?”
He swallowed, hating even to dwell on his teen years. “I was kind of a loser in high school. Those were not remotely the best years of my life, and I have no desire to rehash them with a bunch of people who ignored me then and haven’t made an effort to contact me since.”
Jack clapped him on the back. “Got news for you, Cooper. We work in the cybersecurity division of the FBI. We were all losers in high school.”
Sam laughed because it was true. He worked with a bunch of computer geeks. Granted, they were now computer geeks who carried weapons and had the right to arrest bad guys, which upped their cool factor. “At least I’ve grown an inch or seven since high school.”
“Late growth spurt?” Jack asked.
“I was five-five until my freshman year of college. I had to essentially buy a new wardrobe overnight.”
“I wish that had happened to me,” Jack said almost wistfully. Sam glanced down at his partner, who was five-nine on a good day. “If I were suddenly six feet tall and now an FBI agent, I’d go back to my high school reunion and rub it in the faces of every person who was ever mean to me.” Jack glanced over at Sam and correctly read the expression on his face. “Not going to happen, huh?”
“Never. There were a handful of friends from school who were cool, and I still keep in touch with them.”
“Like the infamous Arianna Rose?” Jack asked with a knowing laugh. It was common knowledge around the office that Sam had gone to high school with last year’s biggest scandal in America. Arianna Rose’s father had operated a Ponzi scheme to rival Bernie Madoff’s and then fled the country, leaving Arianna as the public and only face of the Rose family.
“Yes, like Arianna,” Sam replied, still a little sensitive about the ribbing he’d taken for months defending his flighty but trustworthy friend. Luckily, Arianna had lived up to his trust and helped the authorities track down her father. “There aren’t that many other people from Montgomery Prep that I want or need to see again.”
“What about your girl crush? Don’t you want see if she put on the freshman fifty? Rub it in her face what she missed out on?”
“Fifteen,” Sam corrected. “I believe the correct term is ‘freshman fifteen.’”
“I know, but in her case, you’re hoping for fifty.”
&
nbsp; Sam froze silently in front of the elevator bay. His girl crush had never put on the freshman fifteen. She’d kept her killer body all through high school, college, and still had it. At least she had last time Sam had stalked her on social media. “No. She knows exactly what she missed out on and isn’t mourning for a second. No high school reunion for me.”
Once his appetite had returned and they found seats in the lunchroom, Sam bit into his sandwich and chewed, listening to the conversation swirl. Gathered around him were two other members of his Cyber Action team, a division of the cybercrimes unit of the FBI. On his left was his partner, Jack, and across from him was Ted Sanders, the special agent in charge of the unit. It was a rare event Ted joined them in the cafeteria, as he was usually meeting with muckety-mucks and other VIPs, trying to convince them their squad needed more funding.
“We got another report from the IC3,” Ted said, and Sam’s attention was immediately caught.
The IC3 was the online complaint center for the FBI where people could report attempted hacks, phishing scams, and more. Basically it was a nightmare flood of complaints, some legit, but many from people who had nothing better to do than complain about annoying emails they claimed were spam. For Ted to mention a report from the complaint center meant something valid was happening.
“Another private school, this time in Arizona, logged a complaint that they had suspicious activity, but they’re not even sure if money got stolen, credit card numbers or what.” Ted shook his head. “These schools have millions of dollars on the line, but don’t invest in their IT. I don’t get it.”
Jack piped up, “Sam does. He’s from that world.”
Sam swallowed as all eyes turned in his direction. “Not really.”
“Yes, you are,” Jack said and poked him in the upper arm. “Show them. You got invited to your ten-year reunion.”
“That’s right,” Ted said. “I forgot you went to Montgomery Preparatory.” Since Ted rarely forgot any details, Sam could only guess he was playing it coy about his own children applying to Montgomery Prep in the next year. Sam had rightly claimed he had no sway with the admissions staff at the school, but Ted must not have believed him. It was going to get uncomfortable at work if Ted thought Sam could help get his kids accepted at the exclusive prep school. Sam didn’t make nearly enough salary to make the kind of donations that could gain him traction with the school.
“I went there for high school, but I haven’t been back there since I graduated. I’m sure it’s a very different place, and I don’t know much about the inner workings of private schools,” Sam said.
“Were there other complaints?” Jack asked.
“Three private schools in the last month have logged complaints,” Ted said. “I doubt any of them are connected. My guess in all three cases is that it’s student hackers trying out their skills.” He glanced pointedly at Sam, who felt his cheeks heat.
As part of his admittance to the FBI, he’d had to confess that as a fifteen-year-old, he’d hacked into his school computer just to see if he could do it. He’d changed nothing, stolen nothing, and caused no harm. No one ever knew he was there, but Sam didn’t want anything to trip up his application, so he’d been up front about it. “Fine. That is something I know about.” Everyone at the table laughed, since Sam wasn’t alone in his youthful indiscretion. They were all members of CAT because they were hackers at heart.
“Are you sure they weren’t all related?” Sam asked, thinking swiftly and trying to find patterns.
Ted shrugged and slurped his coffee. “I suspect this case isn’t under our watch. Let someone in the general cyber team handle it. Almost no money was stolen from the schools, so the DOJ won’t take it on.”
“Maybe that wasn’t the goal,” Sam said, scratching the back of his head. “Maybe they stole a little bit of money as a MacGuffin.”
His next sentence was drowned out by hoots and laughs at his use of the Hitchcock film term. He accepted the ribbing with a good-natured grin, but he didn’t lose his train of thought. “What if the financial theft was to hide the real goal?”
“What was the end goal, then?” Ted asked curiously.
“I have no idea.” He delved into thoughtful silence, continuing to eat his lunch as the others moved into a discussion about the latest trade for a new pitcher on the Nationals.
He returned to the office after lunch and headed to Ted’s private office. “Can I see the files on the private school hackings?”
“Why bother? We’re overloaded as is, and these aren’t going to be a big deal. We won’t get a prosecutor to take it on.”
“Maybe not,” Sam replied, “but I want to take a look anyway, with your permission.”
“Fine.” His boss hit a few keys on his computer and sent the files to Sam. “Don’t waste too much time on this. We have bigger cases.”
“Agreed.” Sam returned to his desk and opened the email attachments with the intake files detailing the case. After reading all three files, he saw the cases might or might not be connected. Without knowing more, there was no way to tell, except for his gut instinct that was telling him they were connected and not just individual hackings, as was the original thought.
He fired off an email to Ted requesting to take on the case because there was something he was missing. Something bigger than a few grand stolen from scholarship and athletic funding at some prestigious college preparatory schools. With permission to spend more time on the case, he’d find the connection. He knew it.
Chapter Two
Sam wondered how many other schools had been hacked and hadn’t even realized it yet. Likely a lot. While he waited for Ted to give permission for him to delve into the case, he completed some other administrative tasks on his to-do list.
Finally, around three in the afternoon, he got the green light to take the lead on the private school hacks. He had access to assistance from research and they started making calls to various local private schools. From what they’d seen thus far, the schools hit were in urban and highly populated regions. All the schools had big donors and were in the top fifty of the national rankings. Hmm, it sounded familiar. Too familiar. Exactly like his alma mater.
With that thought, the phone in his breast pocket felt like a weight, because it held the invitation to his ten-year reunion. He’d been lying a little when he’d told Jack and his other colleagues he didn’t want anything to do with Montgomery Prep. The truth was he’d liked high school most days. Academically, it had been challenging, but it had been the social life that had caused the most problems.
His prickliest memories about high school revolved around Casey Cooper. She’d remained his friend-slash-nemesis from orientation through graduation. After their one day of friendship, Casey had entered ninth grade with a clear goal to be the most popular girl, and she’d nailed it with ease.
There’d been no place for Sam in her plan, and she’d dropped him quickly. He’d let her, because tagging after her would have been pathetic, though his crush on her never faded. If she’d been stupid or mean, he could’ve lost his fervor, but, no, she had done well academically, and she was never outright mean to him. She simply ignored him.
Somehow, Sam had always assumed that someday he’d summon the balls to do more than write her secret notes, which he’d left in her locker. He’d man up and ask her out and she’d fall madly in love with him and they’d live happily ever after.
It hadn’t happened. It was never going to happen. Hell, he hadn’t spoken to Casey since their freshman year of college. Still, she was the one woman he held up as the ideal woman, whom he’d marry and with whom he would start a family.
He was an idiot. An idiot who had a case to solve, and Casey Cooper could help.
Shit.
Sam picked up the phone, both excited and dreading the call. He didn’t have to talk to her. He could talk to someone else. After all, Casey worked in development. She had nothing to do with the school’s IT staff or anything remotely connected to the ha
ckings. Still, she was his closest connection to the school, despite his parchment diploma from the place.
He made the call and got a bubbly admin named Annie who made the assumption he was calling to respond to the ten-year reunion invitation. Her disappointment that he simply wanted to speak to Casey was a palpable dejection that came through the phone.
“I’ll consider attending the reunion,” he finally said. “If work allows.”
He tried to make it seem he might be off doing dangerous undercover assignments, when in reality, he’d be staring at a glowing computer screen, sitting on his ass most of the day. He loved his job, but sometimes wished he lived the stereotype that people assumed when they heard he was an FBI special agent, especially given the name of his division. Cyber Action team implied, well, action, and though they were always busy, always on the go, he’d never had to fire his weapon and likely wouldn’t ever have to. He did get to wear the cool navy FBI Windbreaker when they stormed a building in which they suspected someone was running a cyber fraud ring.
It took an hour for Casey to call him back, during which he reorganized his pen cup on his desk, rooted out all the rogue paper clips in his top drawer, and discovered that the FBI firewall blocked BuzzFeed quizzes. He’d never learn the twenty-two things that made redheads different from the rest of the world.
His phone finally rang with the caller ID from Montgomery Prep, and his arm sent his newly clean pen cup flying across the desk in his haste to grab it, though he did force himself to let it ring twice before picking up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Is this Sam Cooper?” Her voice was smooth, professional, and yet his every nerve ending tightened as if he were about to run a sprint in an Olympic trial. Nothing in Casey’s voice hinted that after four years of her ignoring him in high school, they’d kissed on graduation night. A kiss, despite its brevity and regrets, that was still the hottest kiss he’d ever had. At least in his memory.