On the Record- the Complete Collection

by Lee Winter

  “Oh, I have no doubt.” Catherine’s smile was reassuring. “It sounds like you held your own. He’s a hard man to stand up to. I’m proud you were able to.”

  “Will you still be proud if he sets his goons on us?”

  “He has far bigger ambitions than us—such as MediCache. Did he say anything useful about it?”

  “Not really. I was getting the whole, smug ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet’ vibe. Like he knows something we don’t.”

  “Hmm. Did you ask why they set up in Iowa?”

  “He claims it’s because of Hickory. That the senator made some great pitch to get them here.”

  “That techno-illiterate idiot?”

  “Yep. Lionel even sounded as though Hickory was valuable to him somehow.”

  “All right.” Catherine straightened. “We need to do a much deeper backgrounding on the good senator from Iowa. We must have missed something. There has to be more to him than meets the eye.”

  Lauren’s hand fell to Catherine’s forearm. “Hey. I’m sorry, by the way.”

  “For what?”

  “You losing the parent lottery. They’re, well, so…lacking…in their own way.”

  Lacking. Well, that was a kind word for it. Catherine paused at what Lauren wasn’t directly saying. “Did my father get to you? Upset you more than you’re letting on?”

  Lionel Ayers was a master at cutting to the heart of someone with a blunt knife, after all. He could flay her emotionally when she was young. She’d learned to develop a thick skin. It went with the sharp, anxious mind that filled with the biting comebacks she’d wished she’d had the courage to say.

  “He has a rare talent,” Lauren admitted. “I didn’t let on he came closer to the mark than I’d like.” She hesitated. “I’m not ready to talk about what he said, though, if that’s okay.”

  Catherine nodded. “I know what he’s like.” She cast around for a new topic. “So, how did that meeting with Hickory go before you met my charming mother?”

  “Short. All I learned was his involvement with Ansom goes back a few years. He’s been talking them up since 2012.”

  “That far back? The plant wasn’t even in Iowa then.”

  “I know. He didn’t really say much more. Then he asked if you were here today, too. And when I said you were, he looked freaked out and left.”

  “Ah. He’s still sore about that article I wrote after his press conference.”

  “Definitely.”

  Catherine glanced around. The tour members and dignitaries had all left. A few workers were stacking chairs against the wall. She took a sharp breath. “So, Lucas stopped by for a chat. He’s worked out who my parents are. I didn’t confirm his suspicions. But still. He knows.”

  Lauren winced. “Was he rude?”

  “Not exactly. I’ll go with excessively blunt.”

  “I should talk to him. His attitude’s on the line.”

  “Don’t bother. He’ll just be more convinced he’s right about me and that I’ve sent you in to fight my battles for me.”

  “Battles? What do you mean? What did he say?”

  That I’m unsuitable. I’m too dark. Catherine gave a sharp head shake. “Nothing worthwhile. But I didn’t tell him I’d been disinherited. It’s none of his business.”

  “So now he thinks you’re mega rich? That won’t help his attitude.”

  “I told him I don’t have money.”

  “Let me guess, he didn’t believe you?”

  “It’s irrelevant. I don’t care what he thinks.”

  “Ugh—family!” Lauren said in exasperation. “They’re such hard work. Wanna elope?”

  Catherine chuckled. “Not without Zach’s gorgeous dress.”

  “Ahh.” Lauren’s eyes glazed over. “Yeah, I’m dying to see which one you chose.”

  “And I am looking forward to you dazzling us in your elegant suit. Besides, if I know Owen and Meemaw, you’d break their hearts if they didn’t get to see you walk down the aisle.”

  “Also true. Okay, can we get out of here? All this white, futuristic, mind-game fuckery is giving me a headache. Not to mention the vibe of pure BS it gives off.”

  Catherine laughed. “Fine by me.”

  Chapter 15 –

  North of the Border

  The moment Lauren’s sleepy eyes snapped open, she grabbed her phone and started trawling the news, curious as hell. It was August 10, exactly two days since Michelle’s tip-off. Today was the day. Even though she hadn’t told Catherine what she was up to, her fiancée had taken one look at her, rolled her eyes, and headed for the shower, muttering, “She’s a paid pathological liar.”

  Michelle Hastings might be a paid pathological liar, but she wasn’t lying this time. Lauren stared at the headline on her screen, itching for Catherine to hurry up and get out of the bathroom so she could show her what she’d found. Frankly, Lauren considered it the height of restraint that she hadn’t burst in while the water was still running.

  When Catherine finally reappeared, running a towel through her hair, Lauren bounced onto her knees on their bed and urged her to look at her phone.

  “A group of fifty-two Mexican illegal immigrants have been caught trying to cross the Texas border, according to Immigration and Customs Enforcement.”

  “How exciting for ICE.” Catherine began to dress. “Relevance? And why is that even national news? It’s hardly a rare event.”

  “The men and women caught will be given the option to have data chips placed in their hands to streamline processing of their cases.”

  Catherine paused, midway through sliding on her bra, and, for a moment, Lauren’s thoughts were utterly derailed. Gorgeous.

  “They’ve been signed up to MediCache?” Catherine asked.

  Lauren forced her eyes back to her phone. “It doesn’t specifically say it’s that. Just that it’s part of a pilot program to reduce identity-fraud issues.”

  Catherine frowned. “They can’t do that. Illegal immigrants still have human rights.”

  “Yes. And they get around that sticky issue by making it voluntary. Sound familiar?”

  “Ah.”

  “Anyway, it says should the illegal immigrants say yes, they will each get speedy processing and any appeals listened to ASAP. If they say no, they get stuck in holding cells for an indeterminate period and put at the back of the line. Since usually it can take a couple of weeks to get the expedited deportation cases dealt with, it sounds like they’ll make it much slower than normal for them. So, you know what this means?”

  “Yes.” Catherine sighed. “But even if Michelle wasn’t lying, it doesn’t mean she’s not also manipulating us somehow. I could be getting played again. And this time, you’ll get caught up in it with me.”

  “I know. But I’m a big girl. It is an important story, and I’m willing to take the risk. Look, it’s already being picked up by all the major outlets.” She scrolled down her news feed.

  Catherine’s finger flashed out. “Stop. Go back to that story above. The one with the photo of the ICE officers standing around.”

  Lauren scrolled up to the photo and zoomed in.

  “May I?” Catherine took the phone and studied the screen closely. “Hmm.” She frowned for a moment. “That woman at the back? I think I know her. I have a friend at the FBI—”

  Lauren squinted at a Hispanic woman at the back wearing a sensible charcoal pantsuit. She was half turning away, so her features were partially obscured. “That’s your FBI friend?”

  “No, that’s not Diane, but I’ve been to a few of Diane’s parties and I’ve seen the woman in that photo there. She and Diane work together. She’s not ICE at all—she’s FBI.”

  “Wait a minute. What’s the FBI doing involved in an immigration case?” Lauren took back her phone and scrolled to the end of the story.


  The chip-implantation scheme has garnered the attention of at least one US security agency which says it will watch ICE’s trial program closely to see whether it might be applicable for deployment within its own programs.

  She scrolled down to another photo. A trio of Mexicans who had just been data-chipped. They were pointing at their hands and smiling like stars of a bad infomercial.

  “Why does this reek so bad?” Lauren asked. “Who smiles over getting bagged and tagged with some Frankenchip?”

  “A better question is, what does the FBI want with MediCache? And if the FBI’s interested, you can bet the other security agencies want in, too. You wondered why my father seemed cocky despite backing such a controversial product? Maybe he already knew he had some high-level clients in the wings who couldn’t care less how unpopular the concept was?” Catherine sat up. “I’ll call Diane and see if there’s anything she can tell us about it.”

  “Hey? Aren’t we missing the big question? How did your ex know about any of this?”

  Catherine paused. “Good point. Michelle’s clearly well placed. Somewhere.”

  “Doesn’t it mean she either works for ICE or the FBI? Who else could possibly be tracking a group of Mexicans two days out before they crossed the border? I mean, I’m guessing she doesn’t work for a sheriff’s office in Texas.”

  “Highly unlikely she’s even been to a border town. She’s allergic to anything less than five-star luxury.” Catherine frowned. “Or…she was. Okay, so while I’m at it, I’ll ask if Diane can find out whether Michelle works at the FBI. You know, I always wondered if she might.”

  “Then why didn’t you ask Diane to look into her before? When Steph—Michelle—first disappeared?”

  “I thought about it many times. But to what end? I refused to be that pathetic person who chases after the one who left them. No matter the circumstances.”

  “Oh. Makes sense. Sorry.”

  Catherine glared at the photo. “I’m tired of being lied to. I’d love to get to the bottom of this, one way or another.”

  Lauren heard laughter coming from their bedroom after breakfast and headed in to find Catherine on a video call to Diane. She was a beautiful, curvy, dark-skinned woman with deep brown eyes, cropped hair, and an infectious, rich laugh. She talked to Catherine with a kind of shorthand, like two people used to finishing each other’s sentences.

  Catherine threw back her head and laughed again at one of Diane’s jokes. Lauren hid her shock at the sight.

  She had to admit the FBI agent was funny in a witty, layered-wordplay kind of way.

  Lauren bit her nail. Lionel’s words darted into her head like a snake. Anyone could turn Catherine’s head if they met the basic criteria. Lauren wasn’t special.

  For the first time in a long, long time, as she stared at amusing, clever Diane, she stopped to wonder what Catherine actually saw in a simple girl from Iowa.

  She was only too aware that she was nothing like Catherine’s ex. For all the woman’s nasty actions, Michelle was also gorgeous, polished, chic, classy, and intelligent. The outfit she had worn at the State Fair looked like it cost more than Lauren’s entire wardrobe budget for the year. Lauren looked at her feet. She considered it a win if her socks matched.

  There was more laughter. Lauren glanced back at the screen and realized why she was so unsettled. She’d become used to the fact her fiancée rarely laughed, and only ever with her. She sneaked a peek at Catherine. The happiness on her face was beautiful.

  That’s good, she reminded herself. This was very good for Catherine. Even if Lauren was feeling exposed, vulnerable, and a bit insecure thanks to Lionel and Michelle’s tag-teamed taunting, this was her own issue. Catherine needed her friends. She didn’t have many, and she’d been without for too long.

  Lauren would let them catch up properly alone. Decided, she turned to sneak out when two words stopped her cold.

  “Top secret.”

  Her backside promptly dropped to the bed.

  Diane looked deadly serious. “You shouldn’t poke your finger in that one, Catherine.”

  “Why not? It’s one group of illegal immigrants among hundreds, right? What’s with the top security?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both. I mean it. My boss is all over this, watching it like a hawk. I can’t give you anything. There’s literally nothing unclassified about this case except what has already been fed to the press.”

  “All right, then, let’s not talk specific cases. How about the big picture? Off the record: since when is the FBI involved in an ICE case at all?”

  “Since the director really wants to get in bed with that MediCache tech.”

  “That’s why they’re watching the data-chipping trial?”

  “It’s not a trial.”

  “It’s not?”

  “More like a foregone conclusion and everyone here knows it. If I were you, I’d have a closer look at the pictures in the paper regarding this case.”

  “Any photo in particular?” Catherine turned to Lauren, who promptly handed her the phone cued up to the last story they’d read.

  “That’s all I’m going to say on that.”

  Catherine scrolled through the photos. Lauren looked at the screen over her shoulder. They all looked fairly typical of an ICE arrest. Well, except for that one of the happy Mexicans holding up their hands…

  After a pause, Catherine called it up and zoomed in. And then again. Her mouth fell open.

  Lauren suddenly saw what Catherine had.

  “Is this… I mean…” Catherine peered closer. “The screen’s small, but either I’m going blind or those scars where they’ve been microchipped don’t look real. Like…makeup?”

  “What an interesting theory.” Diane lifted her eyebrows.

  “But if the scars are fake…are these even real illegal immigrants?”

  “Oh, they’re definitely Mexicans from south of the border. They were also definitely caught illegally crossing the border. Teams were waiting to detain them. Exactly as the news story said.”

  “Waiting.”

  Diane said nothing.

  “Why waiting?”

  “Catherine.” Her tone was warning.

  “So, this whole thing is smoke and mirrors? It’s faked for show? Wait, were these Mexicans just pretending to be illegal immigrants? Say, actors or something?”

  Diane fidgeted. “I never said that.”

  “I noticed. Can you also ‘not tell me’ why anyone would go to the effort to set this all up?”

  “I cannot comment on this specific case.”

  “Do you know, though?”

  “Know? That’s too strong a word. It’s just speculation around the water cooler. But like I said, our director loves the possibilities of MediCache.”

  “And he needed a successful tryout to push for its use in security?” Catherine’s eyebrow lifted. “Even if it’s not even a trial but all faked for cameras.”

  “Interesting theory.”

  “So, what’s the endgame? Is the FBI going to try and chip all private American citizens down the track or something?”

  Diane shook her head. “The FBI can’t do that, even if it’d probably love to. It would kick up a huge national stink, not to mention all the civil liberties laws it would breach. But the actual agenda? Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “Thanks, Diane. I guess we’ll keep digging.”

  “Remember, I warned you. This one’s a political hot potato.” Her amused look said she knew Catherine would ignore her warning. “So, is that all you need from me today?”

  “Just curious about that name I emailed you—”

  “Oh, that’s right. Hastings?” Diane shuffled through some papers and glanced up. “No, no one by that name works here.”

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nbsp; “Oh.” Catherine’s features were cool, but her lips compressed.

  “Anymore.”

  “What?”

  “She did work here, years ago. But not now.”

  “How many years ago?”

  “Recruited straight out of college. She got a better offer and left us.”

  “A better offer where?”

  “I asked around,” Diane said. “Only one old agent remembered her from back then. She was headhunted for some sort of consultancy work.” She lifted her hand. “No, I don’t know where. He didn’t have a clue, either. Sorry. You’d have to find someone else who knows her.”

  “Thanks for trying.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Catherine smiled. “How’s Pete?”

  “Oh, same old. He’s deciding whether to go back to college and finish his degree. We’ll see.” A baby’s cry sounded in the background.

  Diane glanced behind her. “Nathan’s awake. I’d better go. It was great seeing you again. Please stay in touch.” Her gaze shifted left to where Lauren was sitting. She smiled brightly. “Good meeting you, Lauren.”

  “You, too,” she replied. She felt foolish at her passing insecurities. Lionel would probably laugh his ass off if he knew how successfully he’d messed with her head with just a few well-chosen sentences. She was an idiot.

  The video screen closed.

  Catherine turned with her smile still lingering. “And that was Diane.”

  “It was good to meet her at last. How did you two become friends?”

  “On a story. Years ago, now. We were both starting out and found ourselves professionally useful to each other. But after a while, we found we enjoyed our social interactions more than the work ones.”

  “She seems nice. Makes you laugh.”

  “Yes.” There was a sudden guardedness to Catherine’s expression.

  “What is it?”

  “Diane was among the friends who stopped contacting me when my career was destroyed. Total radio silence.”