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Brooklyn Sloane
November 2023
Thursday — 10:11am
Pale,greycloudshoveredlow in the sky over the city of Washington, D.C. While rush hour was over, the streets were still bustling with activity as people hurried to their destinations. Scarves were wrapped tightly around their necks, and some were even clutching cups of steaming hot coffee from their local cafés. A fine mist clung to the monuments and buildings, giving an eerie quality to the city that seemed to reflect the tension in the offices of S&E Investigations, Inc.
Brooklyn Sloane stared out of the floor-to-ceiling window with her own mug in hand. The caramel macchiato had turned as cold as the crisp winter air, not that she was exposed to the harsh elements on the fourteenth floor of the financial building.
A large institutional bank was located on the first floor. They had also claimed several other offices throughout the lower portion of the building for their mortgage lenders, loan advisors, and such. One of the reasons that Brook had chosen this location was the security it offered to the other tenants. As part owner of a private investigations firm, Brook was of the belief that there could never be enough safeguards in her line of work.
“Are you okay?”
Brook didn’t answer Theo Neville’s question right away. She hadn’t been startled by his voice, because she’d caught his reflection in the window as she stared out at the cityscape. He was wearing workout clothes with a towel around his neck. She’d expected his dark skin to have a sheen of perspiration since he’d just finished his morning workout, but he was as composed as usual. They had no appointments on the calendar for a very specific reason.
“Senator Cary has approved the transfer,” Brook finally replied, not bothering to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Jacob is going to be taken to the hospital from the federal prison in two weeks’ time to donate a portion of his liver to the senator’s son. There’s nothing we can say or do to change his mind.”
Brook turned around right as Theo crossed the threshold to her office. As a former federal agent, he was well aware of the risks that were associated when a prisoner was granted this type of transfer. It was one of the reasons that federal inmates weren’t permitted to be living donors. At least, not unless it was an immediate family member. Even then, there was no guarantee that the courts would grant such a motion. Senator Cary must have used every resource at his disposal to ensure success of such exceptions.
“I don’t know how, but I have no doubt that Jacob set up this elaborate scheme before he ever set foot inside FBI headquarters to turn himself in,” Brook said as she made her way over to her desk. Her brother never made a move unless it benefited him, and he was on the cusp of getting everything that he wanted from his little stunt. “Sarah Evanston voluntarily came out of the witness protection program, and by doing so, her decision set multiple plans in motion.”
Sarah Evanston was the only victim to have survived one of Jacob’s vicious attacks. She had believed at the time that she’d had the perfect life. A former reporter with the beauty and body of a supermodel, she’d been growing in popularity at the time with her audience. Her only mistake had been calling out Jacob Walsh and comparing him to another killer who Brook’s team had been hunting, garnering Jacob’s attention.
“You convinced Sarah to reenter the program,” Theo reminded Brook, clearly trying to assuage her guilt. “Sarah is safe for the time being, and we’ll be at the hospital while Jacob’s surgery is taking place.”
“Jacob will never allow those surgeons to perform the surgery.” Brook set her mug down on the sandstone coaster before taking a seat in her chair. Theo joined her by sitting in one of the guest chairs in front of her desk. “Whatever he is planning will take place either during the transfer to the hospital or right after admission and being settled into a room.”
“Like I said, we’ll have all the exits covered,” Theo said confidently after taking a drink of his protein shake. “Agent Houser will be on site, too. Between the FBI, our team, and the rotating security personnel from the federal prison who will remain with Jacob for the duration of the surgery and recovery, the hospital will basically be on lockdown.”
Brook appreciated that Theo was attempting to ease her concerns, but she’d come too far in her personal life to let it all slip away. Her entire life had been dedicated to hunting down Jacob. Having Jacob behind bars, whether or not such decision had been made by him with an obvious strategy to lure Sarah Evanston out from hiding, had allowed Brook to finally move forward.
“Bit let it slip that you investigated Senator Cary,” Theo said as he rested the plastic cup on his thigh. “I take it there was nothing to find?”
Bobby “Bit” Nowacki hadn’t let anything slip. As the firm’s tech specialist, he was able to gather intel that was otherwise not known to the public. There had been times when he’d blurred the lines of what was considered legal, but she made no excuses for such instructions. If the shit were to hit the fan, she and she alone would face the consequences.
Seeing as Brook needed everyone to understand the seriousness of the situation, she’d opted not to put any limitations on what Bit could share with the group. Besides, there had been nothing of significance in the man’s background check.
“Let’s just say that I’m confident Senator Cary is an innocent bystander in whatever plan Jacob has laid out.” Brook glanced toward the monitor of her computer. A young boy in a photograph stared down at a coloring book in his hospital bed, a blue crayon in one hand and a juice box in the other. “Jonah Cary is a four-year-old boy who was diagnosed with Alagille syndrome, which causes destruction of the bile ducts. Only three of four children diagnosed with the syndrome live to age twenty.”
Brook didn’t need to say aloud that she feared Jonah would be cheated out of a surgery that could prolong his life. She didn’t blame Senator Cary at all for the risks that were being taken to save his son.
“Bit also mentioned that he had no luck tracing the email.” Theo took his towel and wiped the strap of his eyepatch. The loss of his right eye was the reason that he was no longer a federal agent. He was too good of a field agent to be chained to a desk for the rest of his career. The Bureau’s loss was Brook’s gain. “Apparently, the message that Jacob sent to Jonah’s surgeon came from an encrypted account. All Bit was able to determine was that it was triggered by a specific date on the calendar.”
“I explained several times to Special Agent Houser that Jacob would not have turned himself into the FBI without a failsafe. Multiple ones at that.”
Brook was prevented from going more in-depth when she caught movement out of her peripheral vision. The offices of S&E Investigations, Inc. were a testament to modern minimalism and efficiency. Sleek black furniture contrasted against the pristine white walls, while glass windows partitioned numerous offices from the reception area and the main hallway. However, there were solid walls that separated each individual office for some semblance of privacy.
The main entrance consisted of double doors made of ballistic glass, secured by a state-of-the-art biometric scanner that Bit had programmed himself. Every employee had one of their irises scanned upon entrance. No one other than those who worked for S&E Investigations could access the offices. The additional security measure was the reason that a rather elegant woman was prevented from accessing the private waiting area.
The tall blonde female wore a red dress coat over a tailored suit. There was no denying she was from wealth given the expensive jewelry glistening underneath the overhead lights. She had paused briefly to survey her surroundings before striding purposefully towards the entrance of S&E Investigations.
“May I help you?” Arden Hinnish asked through the speaker system.
The sixty-seven-year-old former private investigator was stationed at the front desk. While he might seem like an odd choice for such an administrative role, the caramel macchiato on her desk would convince anyone otherwise. He might be old-school when it came to his job responsibilities, but his wisdom from years in the business benefited the group in more ways than one.
“Yes,” the woman replied, her voice smooth and refined. “My name is Lorelei Jameson. I’m here to speak with Brooklyn Sloane.”
As Brook observed the interaction, she was struck by the intensity of the woman’s gaze. There was a mixture of urgency, desperation, and determination in her eyes. Never once did she break their stare.
