In Deep with the FBI Agent (4 page)

Chemistry Class, Sophomore Year

C
asey yawned and tried not to think about lunch, which was her next period. Today was Tater Tot day in the cafeteria, which she considered her personal hair shirt to wear on Tuesdays. She'd eat exactly one cup of lettuce—and only one cup—without dressing. The homecoming dance was in two weeks, and Amanda had said she could borrow her blue dress. Mom had already said heck no to a new dress, and Casey refused to wear her cousin's hand-me-down, which was totally out of style. She had to lose five pounds if she wanted Amanda's dress to fit. Plus, her thighs were looking super huge lately.

Her stomach growled embarrassingly, earning a side glance from Sam Cooper. Why did teachers at this school love seating their students alphabetically? It meant she spent half her life next to Sam, the biggest loser in the grade. So what if he had the highest GPA? All he talked about were computers and that stupid
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
show. And yet, she saved every one of those little notes he left in her locker—notes he thought she didn't know were penned by him. She'd throw them away tonight. Probably.

“
Stop looking at me,” she whispered.

Instead of looking away, he stared steadily at her as if he could see all her secrets—the ones she tried hard to conceal. She looked away, and the periodic table under her own gaze grew blurry as she concentrated on staving off the sharp pain in her stomach. She swore she could smell the fried potatoes from the cafeteria all the way here, even though the chem lab was in another building.

“
Lunch is soon,” Sam whispered. “Ten more minutes.”

She removed her palm from her abdomen. “Shut up. I'm not hungry.”

He gave her a strange look, which she ignored. Ten interminable minutes later, the chimes sounded; no buzzer for the sensitive ears of D.C.'s elite children. Casey shot to her feet and gathered up her books. As usual, her friends and hangers-on circled her.

“
Going to lunch, Casey?”

“
Wanna sit together?”

She ignored that. If you had to ask, you weren't getting a seat.

“
God, Mrs. Jimenez is so boring. I thought I was going to start snoring.” That came from Lawrence Posner, one of her friends and captain of the school tennis team.

“
I know, right?” she replied. “Total snoozeville.” They started to exit the classroom together. Lawrence had a girlfriend, but he also flirted with Casey, creating a healthy friction between the girls. “I swear I'm going to fail this class if I can't stay awake during it.”

“
I can help you,” Sam spoke up from behind them.

Lawrence glanced around. “Didn't see you there, Cooper.” A snide reference to Sam's size. “You could get a private tutor,” he said to Casey. “I have one for English. She writes all my essays for me.”

“
Maybe,” Casey said noncommittally.

Those private tutors cost a whack. She'd looked into it when all her friends admitted to having a host of academic tutors and private coaches for tennis or softball pitching lessons. It seemed every parent in D.C. was willing to pay to make sure their child had an edge. She'd have to sharpen her own edge. Her mom could never afford private tutoring for anything. She'd also been lying about failing chemistry. By busting her ass and studying every night, she suspected only Sam's grade in the class was higher.

They'd left Sam behind and merged in with the crowd heading to the lunchroom. It was as far from her old public middle school cafeteria as one could imagine. It was carpeted and had small wooden tables that seated four to six people, although you could push them together to get a bigger group. Sometimes Casey allowed it, but usually she required exclusivity among her crew. If everyone got a seat at the table, it would cease to be desirable.

She got in line to grab her tray and a thick ceramic plate. The line for Tater Tots was behind her, and she ignored it, turning instead to the salad bar. She piled on some leafy greens, a cucumber slice, a tomato, skipped the dressing, and then headed for her usual table by the window, which overlooked the field and had a view of downtown D.C. On July Fourth the school opened its fields to the public for fireworks viewing.

Amanda and Tania were already at the table and shifted to make room for her. Both had full bowls of Tater Tots. Lucky bitches. Neither of them had to worry about their weight. And if it ever became a problem, their parents would probably hire personal trainers for their darlings. Or pay for liposuction.

“
God, Casey, you're so healthy. How can you say no to Tater Tots?” Tania asked around a mouthful of potato that Casey wanted to rip out of her lips and Hoover into her own.

“
I prefer salad,” Casey said and turned the subject away from food. She pushed the lettuce this way and that, bringing a lettuce leaf to her mouth every two minutes.

“
So,” Amanda asked, “are we going shopping tomorrow after school?”

“
Yes,” Tania said enthusiastically. “I need new shoes for the dance.”

Casey could almost hear her mother asking if Tania “needed” new shoes or simply “wanted” new shoes. Casey “needed” new shoes, but it was never going to happen. Her mom was barely affording their mortgage and even with the tuition assistance, school was expensive—as her mom reminded her every night. Not to mention all the therapy bills her mom was racking up. It'd be cheaper for her mom to write in a diary than pay a hundred dollars an hour to cry on a stranger's couch. Imagine how many shoes Casey could buy for that money, but if it helped her mom finally, she'd go barefoot.

“
Can you go, Casey?” Amanda asked.

“
No, I've got other plans,” Casey said, trying to sound cool and mysterious, like her other plans might involve Matt Damon or a senior boy and not her after-school job.

“
Oooh, is it Ben?” Tania asked. “Has he asked you yet?”

Casey smiled. “He called me last night.”

Her friends squealed in unison, and then hid their reactions as a tall shadow fell across the table. “This seat taken?”

“
Maybe,” Casey said coyly, looking up at Ben Jonas, the junior who'd called her last night to ask her to the homecoming dance.

He ignored her and sat down anyway. “Can't stay long,” he said, shoveling in bites of Tater Tots and the meatloaf Casey avoided like the plague. “Have to go to the tech lab. Got to print out a paper before sixth period.”

“
Is the computer lab even open during lunch?” Tania asked.

“
Of course,” Casey said. “There's a whole group that go in during lunch to play computer games.”

“
Nerd alert,” Ben said, and Casey joined in the laughter.

“
Those nerds will probably end up richer than all of us with their own tech companies,” Amanda said insightfully. Casey didn't usually give her enough credit, but the kids at Montgomery Prep were smart. In this case, she was right. The so-called nerdy kids hanging out in the tech lab were like uber-geniuses or something, and their king was Sam Cooper.

Casey hit send on the email just as her speakerphone buzzed with Annie's voice sounding frantic. “Ms. Cooper.”
When did she ever call her Ms. Cooper?
“Someone from the FBI is here.”

Casey's heart leapt into her throat at hearing the FBI was calling on her until she looked up and saw Sam Cooper filling her office doorway. Oh,
that
FBI. Her heart didn't settle down right away, because she was in slight shock at her first glimpse of Sam in eight years. He looked good. Really good. Like, she-wanted-to-move-around-her-desk-to-give-him-a-hug-and-see-how-taut-those-muscles-were good.

Guess her mother had been right, and the nerdy guys from high school sometimes grew up to be the good ones. She'd always known—even as a shallow, self-absorbed teenager—that Sam Cooper was one of the good guys. But she hadn't known he'd grow up to be this hot. Would a crystal ball have changed her behavior toward him in high school? Maybe. Likely not. No, she'd never been outright mean, but she never would've gone out with him either. Silly her. Now his sandy-blond hair was cut in a sleek style, making him look every bit the mysterious and dashing FBI agent. She gave in to the impulse, walking around her desk to throw her arms over his shoulders and let their chests press together.

“Sam. It's good to see you in person. Did you say something about visiting me on the phone yesterday?” Wow, he'd
definitely
filled out. The muscles under her hands were taut and sinewy.

He grinned down at her, still keeping his arms clasped behind her spine, holding their bodies together longer than was appropriate, but she had no complaints. Clearly it had been too long since she'd been on a date if Sam Cooper was getting her this hot from a simple hug.

“Nope. Thought I'd surprise you. Do you have a minute?” he asked.

Reluctantly, she released him and pointed to one of the two chairs in front of her desk. “For you, I'll make time. What's up?”

“I need to ask a few questions about Montgomery Prep and its operations.”

Immediately, she was on alert.
Darn it.
For once could she find a man interested in her and not her job? “I already told you yesterday we haven't been hacked.”

“Are you sure? Major corporations can have breaches for months without knowing a thing, and they have full information security teams. What do you guys have? One tech who's responsible for every computer and printer on the campus?”

Since he was right—as usual—and annoying in his accuracy, she stood. “Sam, you're scaring me. I have to get ready for my next meeting, and I'm not the tech person around here. I can give you his name if you want.” Between the reunions and her goal of big donations, she didn't have time for FBI investigations.

He stood also. “Casey, wait. Please, sit. I'll only take a minute of your time. I'm more interested in motivations right now than technical specifics.”

She eyed him for a long second then sat. “Fine.”

“Can you think of any reason someone, or a group of someones, would want to break into private school records? I'm asking because this is your area of expertise. I understand hacking into a bank or retail website. I don't understand motivations here.”

She thought about it for a second. “Well, there's the obvious credit card and banking information. Families here have a lot of money and influence.”

“We're checking into that angle,” he said. “If parents at the schools start to see credit card fraud, we'll know. But my sense is this wasn't financial in motivation. That's why I came to you. You know this world.”

“You were part of this world too,” she pointed out.

“Only for a few years, and never behind the scenes. My private school days were a long time ago.”

“Ten years ago,” she said, with a slight smile. “You're coming to the reunion, right?” She was surprised to discover she suddenly cared whether Sam Cooper was in attendance or not.

“Ten years,” he repeated, ignoring her reunion question. “Any other reasons?”

She stared at a blank space on the wall behind his head as she thought about it. “What about blackmail?”

“Blackmail? How so?”

“Well, we have a lot of information about people and their families. We also have several children of congressmen and other big D.C. politicos here. Imagine if you had dirt on them. You could wreak some serious havoc.” Casey wasn't sure she liked the look of admiration on Sam's face. “What?” she asked.

“You have a nefarious mind. I like it,” he was quick to add. His expression grew thoughtful as he considered her angle. Then he frowned. “That would explain the two schools that have been hacked in this region. We have one school in Santa Barbara and another in Miami. No political motive there.”

“Unless it's local politics,” she said. “Big money means big power. And these private school parents have both.”

“That's a good thought. I'll look into it. And now I'll let you get back to work.” Sam stood. “Good seeing you, Casey. Maybe we could meet up and catch up over coffee sometime.”

“That'd be good,” she said, surprised to actually mean it. Who would have thought she'd actually one day want to spend time with Sam Cooper in public.

“You know who to call if you get hacked.”

Sam strolled out of her office, trying to maintain his composure. As usual, two minutes in Casey Cooper's presence had him sweating. She looked amazing. When she'd come around her desk for a hug, he'd wanted to cling to her and breathe in the scent of her shampoo, but she'd pulled back too quickly to get more than a tantalizing, teasing whiff.

It was weird being back on campus as an adult. He hadn't been back since graduation, and it was exactly the same and yet totally different. For one, the students lounging in the hallways and parking lot on his way in had been slyly checking their cell phones. When he'd gone here, they'd had phones, but not smart ones.

As he turned the corner from Casey's office to the main entrance, a flashy flyer caught his eye. It was for an online tutoring service, promising a big boost in GPA and at least a hundred points higher on the SAT. He laughed, thinking he would have loved that when he was in school. All his friends had gone for private SAT tutoring, which was something out of his parents' budget, but it would have been nice to have that kind of support.

Twenty minutes later, he was back at his desk to make some calls to other field offices and police stations around the country.