Part 5 (1/2)

Laura had challenged her and she couldn't resist. She told herself at the time that it was just the Taurus in her. She sat down on the bed, leafed through the brochure, and was pleasantly surprised to read that one of the FBI hiring policies included a clause that protected people based on s.e.xual orientation.

Later that night, while sitting in her newly rented efficiency apartment, she logged onto the FBI website and downloaded an application. To her surprise, she was accepted two weeks later.

She had driven by the J. Edgar Hoover building a thousand times without giving it much thought, but on the day she was to report for duty, she stood outside the front entrance marveling at its sheer size. It was enormous and took up a full city block. The building itself was located at 935 Pennsylvania Avenue between Ninth and Tenth Street, with the front of the building facing Pennsylvania Avenue. The building raised seven stories at the front, with a huge overhang at the back that added four more floors.

Laura told her that the building had been designed this way in order to bypa.s.s a city ordinance that restricted the height on all new buildings facing Pennsylvania Avenue.

The main reason for this had to do with the major parades that periodically marched down the Avenue. It was a requirement for all new buildings to have open second floors in order to accommodate parade spectators. The exterior part of the building was most interesting and was constructed out of crude concrete slabs. At first glance, they appeared to be riddled with bullet holes. She learned later that the holes were not from bullets, but were actually part of the architecture, designed to give it character. Not only did they look like bullet holes, the building looked unfinished to her, and she was not alone in that thought.

She couldn't recall how many times she had overheard a tourist taking the tour ask, ”So, how much longer before the building's completed?” It was a standing joke around HQ, seeing that the building was completed in 1974.

When she entered the building, the first person she saw was Special Agent Laura Forrest. She had been waiting for her and again, she had that s.h.i.+t-eating grin on her face. All Rheyna could do was smile back. After she signed in at the front desk, Laura laced her arm through Rheyna's and took her on a tour of what would be her home for the next fifteen years.

The first area they entered was the visitors' lobby. The room was nicely decorated in neutral color tones and like any lobby, it contained several lounge chairs, a sofa and a large table littered with brochures and pamphlets. To the right of the entrance doors was the obligatory guard's desk where each visitor had to sign in. The wall nearest the entrance had a set of mirrors reaching from floor to ceiling and unbeknownst to visitors, a group of agents, along with security guards, sat on the other side, watching the lounge through two-way mirrors.

Sitting two floors down, directly in the middle of the building-and viewable from the lobby-was an open, outside courtyard with ivy-covered walls. All along the outside perimeter, gardens grew in the spring, producing the most vibrant flowers she had ever seen. Around the gardens, carefully laid pavers led to an enormous, flowing fountain located in the middle of the court, which was surrounded by wrought-iron benches. The benches were a nice touch and provided the ideal place to sit and collect one's thoughts, a place to escape, to get away from all of the terrible things that went on inside the building.

This was where she chose to eat her lunch on most days. She was amazed at the countless animals and birds that made their way in and milled around the flower gardens. They even had a groundhog for a mascot. She understood how the birds and groundhog got in, but to this day, she had no idea how all the others did, since the only way in was up or through the ground. She still tries to figure out where the tabby cat came from.

The colorful garden was very different from the bland colors inside the building. When entering a restricted area, one is slammed back to reality with the dreary decor. Every door is painted charcoal grey and every wall in the building is beige and bare. Not one wall has pictures hanging on them. The building's size and odd design, combined with the fact that everything looked alike, made it too easy to get lost. In fact, employees who worked there for years still did.

After sixteen weeks of training, Rheyna was a.s.signed to the Criminal Investigative Division located on the fifth floor. The CID was by far the largest of the divisions, with seven individual sections, and those sections were responsible for employing eighty percent of all FBI agents.

That division alone investigated approximately seventy-thousand cases per year. For Rheyna, this meant that she was not likely to get bored. Although she didn't get to choose where her a.s.signment would be, she had secretly hoped for Organized or Violent Crime. She was not surprised at all when she ended up spending the first three years of her career in the area, she wanted least-White Collar Crime. Fortunately, for her, the last twelve have been divided between Civil Rights, Counter-Terrorism, Drugs and Investigative Support, and less than forty-eight hours ago, she had been granted her wish: she was finally a.s.signed to Organized Crime.

Chapter 5.

Artie looked at the final disconnect notice for the water bill. He ripped it into little pieces and tossed it in the wastebasket. He turned his computer monitor around and started tapping on the keyboard. A light knock on his door caused him to stop.

”Come in,” he said, quickly switching off the monitor.

Edwards opened the door and poked his head in. ”I saw your light on and wasn't sure if you were still here.”

”Yeah, I'm just wrapping up a few things before I head home.”

”Okay, well, don't be too late. We have a big day tomorrow.”

”Don't I know it,” Artie said with a smile. ”I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

”Good night, Artie,” Edwards said before pulling the door closed.

Artie turned the monitor back on and continued tapping the keys. He ripped off a piece of paper, jotted down the information from the screen, and shut his computer down. He crammed the paper in his pocket and took his coat off the door hook.

Cecil t.i.tus looked up from his newspaper. ”Hiya, Artie. What brings you down to my neck of the woods at this late hour?” Cecil managed to ask between bites of a salami sandwich.

”h.e.l.lo, Cecil. I just have a few things to check out before I head on home.”

Cecil pressed the b.u.t.ton to allow Artie behind the steel door separating the small lobby area from the evidence room. Artie slid his ID badge into the card reader, walked through the caged door, and shut it behind him. He pulled the door open that led to the evidence property warehouse.

”Let me know if you need any help!” Cecil yelled just before Artie disappeared between a set of wooden shelves used to hold the evidence bags and boxes.

Artie glanced at the numbers on the outside compartments and carefully navigated his way around the hordes of bicycles and other large items that littered the aisles. He scanned the metal ID tags at the top of each rack and turned down an aisle marked with the letters D through L. He stopped in front of several brown evidence bags and pulled the paper out of his pocket. He double-checked the numbers to verify that they matched. He reached into the pigeonhole and pulled out a brown bag. He glanced around and then nervously unrolled the lip of the bag and peered inside.

Cecil wadded up the wrapper, took aim, and lobbed the ball at the trashcan located several feet from his desk. ”Ah, s.h.i.+t,” he said as the paper ball clipped the rim and skidded a few feet away. He picked it up, and dropped it in the can. He inserted his ID badge into the card reader, let himself though the caged door, and headed down the first aisle. He walked in a zigzag fas.h.i.+on, glancing up each aisle as he weaved in and out between the rows of shelving racks that looked more like a maze than an evidence room.

”Ah, there you are,” he said, spotting Artie at the end of the row. ”I wanted to show you the picture of my new granddaughter, Chloe,” he said, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

Artie quickly closed the bag and shoved it back into the cubbyhole. He turned and walked toward Cecil.

Cecil took the photo out of his wallet and handed it to Artie. ”Isn't she just the prettiest thing you ever seen?”

Artie glanced down at the small baby covered in pink. ”Yes, Cecil, she is.”

Cecil beamed with pride, smiling from ear to ear. ”I'm telling you, Artie, this one's gonna be a real looker when she grows up.” Cecil took the photo back and carefully inserted it into his wallet. He winked at Artie. ”Probably gonna have to beat aem off with a stick.”

”I think you may be right,” Artie said with a nervous laugh.

Cecil nodded toward the area where he saw Artie standing. ”Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked.

”Oh, uh, yeah, uh, I just needed to see a doc.u.ment, that's all.”

”So you don't need to check anything out, then?”

Artie shook his head. They walked up the aisle and back through the caged door. Artie opened the door to the lobby. ”It was nice to see you, Cecil.”

Cecil grinned and flopped back down in the chair behind his desk. ”Come back and chat when you have a little more time.”

”I will,” Artie said and pulled the door closed.

Chapter 6.

Fresh out of the shower and fully dressed for the day, Rheyna went back into the kitchen. She tucked the morning newspaper under her arm and then wedged a half-eaten bagel between her teeth. She grabbed her cell phone off the counter with her right hand and carefully picked up her cup of coffee with her left. She slowly made her way toward the patio door and, using her knee, slid it open.

d.a.m.n, I'm good, she thought as she set the cup of coffee down on the table without spilling a drop. She pulled the newspaper from under her arm and dropped it, along with her cell phone, next to the coffee cup. She sat down on the lounger and leaned back, propping her feet up on the table while she ate.

She finished the bagel and brushed her hands down the sides of her jeans. She took a couple sips of coffee and then picked up the newspaper, laying it across her lap. Not only am I good, I'm nuts, she thought as she glanced again at the article just below the headline. She grabbed her cell phone, flipped the lid back, hit the speed dial for Laura, and waited for her to pick up.

”Hey, girl, I didn't expect to hear from you this early. What gives?” Laura asked, stifling a yawn.

”Good morning to you, too, suns.h.i.+ne. Did I wake you?” Rheyna asked, jokingly.