GREED Box Set (Books 1-4)

by John W. Mefford

  When the alarm sounded, it felt like I'd only been asleep for sixty minutes. Marisa then proceeded to tease me with her affections. Although it seemed like we might close the deal, she eventually kicked me out of bed, knowing I had an early meeting.

  I had an unsettling feeling as I entered the building that housed the Times Herald. Annoyed with myself for nearly causing a wreck because I couldn't find my wayward phone, irritated that we still hadn't been able to get Trudy safely back home, and even a bit sexually frustrated, I hurried into my office to set up before heading to the glass-house meeting room. Brandon had emailed me over the weekend, saying we needed to meet early this morning to discuss the “Andi idea.” I balanced my still hot coffee with a stack of papers and folders as I quickly exited my office. I was blindsided by a hard-charging Andi, our eager intern. Like the rest of my morning, I took the worst end of the collision, spilling black coffee down my shirt.

  “Michael, Mr. Doyle, sir, I'm sooo sorry,” said Andi, who somehow had avoided any spillage on her clothing.

  “That's all right. I'm in a rush and not really with it this morning,” I said with little sincerity.

  I grabbed a couple of paper towels out of the break room, and we both headed toward the glass house. As we sat down, waiting for the arrival of Brandon and the others, I noticed something unusual about Andi's appearance. She always seemed youthful, but I couldn't determine what was different this time.

  In walked Rose, Hector, and finally Brandon, once again full of energy.

  “Thank you all for getting up extra early on Monday morning for this meeting,” Brandon said. “As I've stated, the news never sleeps, so sometimes this type of meeting is necessary.”

  The comment drew a soft drone from both Hector and Rose, who appeared to have rolled out of bed about ten minutes prior to the meeting.

  Brandon cleared his throat, took a sip of his coffee, obviously delaying his opening statement. He looked at me and then addressed the group.

  “Let me start by saying that this drug story has rocked the foundation of this community unlike anything we've seen. It has impacted everyone in this room, and with Stu's situation, on a very personal level,” Brandon began. “Given what we've experienced, I've challenged all of us to step up our game and continue brainstorming on new ways to tackle this evolving story.”

  All eyes were fixated on him, including mine.

  “Andi and I spoke late last week and again a couple of times over the weekend. We've agreed on an interesting new approach that could provide us with information and a perspective we'd be unable to capture otherwise,” he said. “After a lot of thought, we've decided that Andi will, essentially, go undercover as a student at the public high school.”

  I kept my composure to ensure I understood what he was saying before I commented. Rose and Hector both gulped. Andi's facial expression was steadfast, which showed me the task didn't intimidate her, although I wasn't sure if that was because of her naiveté or that she truly was prepared for the challenge. Still, I wondered if they had thought through all the possible risks.

  “Good gosh, guys. I leave early on a Friday afternoon, and we have interns making major policy decisions,” I deadpanned, which quickly turned all heads my way. “I'm just joking. Kind of. I need to understand more details.”

  “You're saying you're open to the idea?” asked Andi, jumping in before Brandon could speak.

  “Open, yes. But how far will be based upon how convinced I am that Andi will not put herself in dangerous situations, including not having to use any type of illicit drug.”

  “We've got forty-five minutes to convince you.” Brandon glanced at his watch.

  “Why's that?”

  “Because, knowing that we needed to get moving on this story, and the fact that spring break is next week, I called the superintendent over the weekend to bounce this idea off him,” Brandon said. “And school starts for Andi at eight a.m. today.”

  I pursed my lips and put my hand to my chin.

  “He understands the seriousness of this ordeal and the scrutiny his entire school district is under. And he wants the bad apples out and his district vindicated,” Brandon said.

  I said, “So he's either desperate or stupid.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Andi tapped the brakes on the Mystery Machine to ensure she slowed down to the school zone speed limit of twenty miles per hour. Her ancient minivan was probably the least sexy car she could imagine, but when you're a broke college student, you take what is offered, especially if it's coming from your mom. Embarrassment had long since disappeared. It was actually a source of pride at this point, given her longtime affinity for Scooby-Doo TV shows and movies.

  She eased through the last school zone, all the while thinking through the story she'd provide her new classmates. She recalled the lone acting class she took in her first run through high school, about four years prior. She knew this required a similar effort, although she'd need to stay in character an entire school day.

  Unlike many other young people, Andi had known early on what she wanted to do with her life—journalism was her destiny. Her father had written in-depth articles for some of the nation's most prominent magazines, covering topics like the Iran-Contra affair, the rise and fall of the Bill Clinton presidency, and the US foreign policy decisions that had alienated much of the world's Muslim community.

  Considered a hired gun, so to speak, her father darted around the country, and sometimes the globe, to uncover the real story behind the fluff. At times that had turned into more permanent employment. He landed a gig at the Washington Post, and at one point, the editors thought he would grow into the role as the next Woodward or Bernstein. But his anti-establishment attitude couldn't deal with any type of constant corporate politics, and he transitioned back to the life of a freelancer.

  Communicating with her dad more through phone conversations and old-fashioned written letters, Andi considered herself lucky to have the father she did. His unique perspective on the world's personalities, governments, and corporations and their armies of lobbyists mesmerized her. As a young teen, she soaked up the knowledge, asked insightful questions, and more than anything, developed a longing to go down the same trail. Unlike her older sisters who took more traditional career paths, Andi loved the idea of exposing massive corporate fraud, blowing the lid off a corrupt government entity, or in this case, uncovering the drug supplier who killed a colleague's young daughter. Fulfilling her journalistic proclivity was her sole focus, and at this point in her burgeoning career, she was eager to start putting some skins on the wall.

  “Andi, Andi Osborne. Yes, I have it right in front of me,” said the silver-haired school counselor. “Here is your schedule of classes and a map of the campus. We have open campus for lunch, but if you're tardy more than three times, you lose the privilege. Of course, we only have another two to three months of school and you're a graduating senior.”

  Having lived the more independent college life for almost three years, and now working in a professional environment at the Times Herald, Andi wasn't used to being under anyone's juvenile thumb. But she remembered it well and played the part.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your help,” said Andi, who held her books like the teenage girls in the hallway and headed to her first class.

  Andi was a natural in world history, her first class of the day, but she wasn't going back in time to impress her new classmates or even the teachers. She knew she had to make quick progress at befriending her classmates, targeting anyone who might have been close to Courtney. She nodded cordially a few times and received a few nods in return, although world history turned into mostly a head-turning exercise—for her new classmates. First period was merely a warm-up, she told herself when the bell rang.

  Andi strolled the halls between morning classes and made one key observation. Kids—teenagers who had adult-like physical traits—still exhibited the same emotional immaturity she recalled from her high school years. Soci
ally, the most telling characteristic of high school was the obvious separation of people. The cliques appeared to act like prides of lions—protective, territorial, and downright nasty at times.

  It had taken a few hours to become more comfortable with her environment, and she continued to draw stares from both sides of the aisle—girls and boys—including geeky kids, athletic kids, the popular Ken-and-Barbie-doll crowd, and even the gothic kids. As a more confident twenty-one-year-old, she briefly thought about how moving to a new school deep into her senior year might have affected her self-esteem back in the day.

  “So, look what the wind blew in,” said a male voice behind Andi as she turned the combination on her locker.

  The attention not completely unexpected, she kept her cool, twisted the knob two more times, and popped open her locker.

  “That's okay, you don't need to turn around; I like the view from back here just fine,” he said with a slight chuckle.

  Part of her wanted to rip this kid a new one, but that might force him to pee his pants, she thought. Play the part, she reminded herself. Andi turned her head deliberately, knowing a few others were now watching.

  “I guess you haven't seen a girl before?” she asked, one hand on her hip and her head at a slight angle.

  A few hisses came from some of the onlookers. Someone from the crowd said to the boy, “You just got dissssssed.” He began to chuckle, which was a good sign, she thought.

  Out of nowhere, another kid started pumping out some type of rap beat and people pointed fingers in the air, swaying side to side. Andi felt something on her left leg. She looked over and saw another boy humping on it. Her instincts took over. She whirled to her right and swung her right leg behind her, cracking the slender, tall boy squarely between the legs. She'd learned a few self-defense moves from her sister, who had taken taekwondo classes. But as soon as she completed the move, she wondered instantly if she had gone too far.

  The gathering crowd erupted with all sorts of oohs and aahs, as the boy tipped over like a fallen statue. Andi turned back to gather books from her locker, and the crowd dispersed.

  “You go, girl,” said an approaching classmate, who gave her a high five.

  “I'm not sure I really wanted to take it that far,” said Andi, looking back down at the kid, now trying to gather the energy to stand up.

  “These high school boys...when will they ever grow up?” The girl rolled her eyes. “Hey, it's obvious you're the new girl. I'm Summer.”

  “Hey, I'm Andi. I just moved here from Louisiana.” Both girls smiled.

  “You seem pretty cool. We should hang out some time,” Summer said. “By the way, those boys are harmless. They just like to tease new girls. They probably only have two-inch dicks anyway.”

  Both girls laughed outrageously. They began walking to their next class.

  “Hey, at lunch time, you want to join me and a few of my friends?” Summer asked.

  “Sure, I'm game for just about anything.”

  “Cool. We have this place where we go. It's pretty cool. “We smoke a little. It's all harmless.”

  Andi wondered what they smoked. She had caught her first fish. Time would only tell if it would lead her to Courtney's killer.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Andi wasn't accustomed to sitting in the passenger seat while a teenager drove, let alone a girl who spent more time texting, waving at friends out the window, and looking at anything but the road. It's like watching three people in one, Andi thought. The entire scene created a heightened sense of anxiety for her, at a time when she knew she needed to be in character, pushing for more information, albeit subtly.

  “Hey, I think we have a red light coming up,” Andi tried to say as casually as possible while jamming her feet into the floorboard.

  Summer giggled. “Nice one. You're just trying to act like my mother.”

  Andi decided it was best to connect on a more basic level.

  “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

  “No, not now. I did when I was younger, and I thought dating a senior was something special, but I have my eyes on college, when boys turn into men.” Summer licked her lips. “You know what that means.”

  “Yep, sure do.” Andi hoped she wasn't too transparent with her thoughts.

  “Speaking of college, I hear the parties in college are awesome. Then again, my old high school had some pretty awesome parties too,” Andi said, trying to spark more conversation.

  “Kind of depends on who's giving it. We've had some really awesome parties, even a couple that I can hardly remember,” Summer said with a wink. “But that's what friends are for, to help you out during those times.”

  Andi wanted to take the opportunity to throw out a specific question about Courtney, but knew she couldn't make it obvious. Teenagers were experts in sniffing out non-teenagers.

  “I could use a good party. Might help me get used to the new area and get to know some people.” Andi paused to think through her next leading statement. “You know when I was talking to the counselor he mentioned there had been a bunch of teenage deaths lately, something about drug overdoses?”

  Summer's playful grin quickly disappeared. Her eyes refocused on the road. It appeared her mind had purposely created a compartment for that topic, with an impenetrable lock on it. She didn't say a word for thirty seconds.

  “I suppose that's something our class will always be remembered for, even though not everyone that overdosed was a senior,” she said.

  “I'm sorry if that's a sore spot for you,” said Andi sincerely.

  “That's okay.”

  “Were you close friends with any of them?” Andi asked boldly.

  Summer adjusted in her seat. Andi instantly became concerned she'd overstepped her bounds.

  “I knew most of them at least a little bit, one of them more than that.” Her voice trailed off. “But as sad as it was, life goes on for the rest of us. That's what my old lady told me.”

  Andi remembered their smoke break during lunch earlier. It was mostly a non-event. The only high everyone was getting was from the nicotine in the unfiltered cigarettes, until that one boy showed up. What was his name? Craig. He looked liked a loser. He had a stash of weed, and without any vacillation he lit up a joint. Sure, it was only weed, but if Summer and her friends knew the people who had died from drug overdoses, you'd think that any drug would now be distasteful. Yet, it appeared no one seem fazed.

  Summer pulled into the mall parking lot and found a spot just outside the Nordstrom's entrance.

  “Who are we going to meet?” Andi shut the car door and ran her fingers through her hair.

  “You never know who you're going to run into, but I think a lot of the same people you saw from our lunch break today,” Summer said as they avoided a car and hopped on to the sidewalk. “Plus, we usually run into the kids from the private school. There's even a couple of cute guys in the group, so I'll have to introduce you.”

  Andi raised both eyebrows and batted her eyelashes, an appropriate response for her small-minded audience. She thought to herself that drugs may not be the only thing she'd have to avoid—likely hormonal, handsy teenage boys as well.

  Chapter Thirty

  “So, how do I look...very sexy, right?” Summer wore a sun hat and a pair of shades, puckering her lips and sticking out her derriere.

  “Pretty hot, girlfriend.” Andi almost regurgitating at the maturity level she was lowering herself to.

  The two high school seniors walked the mall, window shopping mostly, on the hunt for cute guys and any friends to which Summer could introduce Andi.

  The mall wasn't very busy. But for the few patrons and mall employees, most eyes at least glanced at the attractive young girls. Andi noticed that Summer drew most of the attention, and she knew it too. Summer appeared quite comfortable and satisfied with the constant affirmation of her beauty. They wandered into a cellular phone store.

  “Hey, there's a couple of a friends over at the counter. You'll lo
ve them. They're so much fun.” Summer started to walk around the kiosks toward the counter. Halfway there she turned abruptly and grabbed Andi's arm.

  “They look like they're busy.” Summer quickly changed her focus to the selection of phones at a kiosk. “Umm, I've been thinking about upgrading my cell phone. I really don't like the way mine handles when I text.” Andi wasn't unaware of what had just happened but didn't want to act suspicious. Instead, she tried to involve herself in the search for a well-designed phone, keeping one eye on the counter.

  “I like this one. What do you think?” asked Andi.

  As Summer gave the phone a test run, Andi took a closer look at the counter. The long-haired mall employee showed the two girls at the counter something in a bag. They nodded their heads, and then one girl took the rolled up sack and stuffed it in her super-sized purse. They turned to see Summer and Andi in the store, but neither seemed alarmed. Andi's instinct was to find out what was in that bag. Her gut feeling told her the content of the bag had little to do with cell phones. Was this the guy who'd supplied the drugs to Courtney? Andi made a mental note to provide these observations to Michael and Brandon.

  Now four strong, the girls' mall-walking pace slowed to a tortoise-like crawl. They were going nowhere fast, which was the opposite of Andi's more assertive personality. They came upon another sunglasses kiosk—the fourth in the mall from what Andi had counted. The girls started trying on various glasses, all trying to appear like they were twenty-six-year-old models on their way to the French Riviera.

  Summer took three pictures of her friends in the sexy poses. “You sharing the pics on your Facebook page?” Andi asked.

  “I'm so beyond Facebook. Instagram...that's where it's at.”