Читать книгу Moving Target - Lori May A. - Страница 10

Within the comfort of her own apartment, surrounded by the familiar, Francesca settled into the window seat with her laptop, taking a moment to peer down at the busy street below her. In the heart of the downtown core, the view afforded her the greatest science experiment of all—watching people in their natural habitat.

After graduate school, and her training with the FBI in Quantico, Francesca was stationed within the Richmond field office to handle some of the toughest profiling cases ever to cross an agent’s desk.

While that usually led her to work with murderers, and she had a knack within the specialty of fingerprinting serial and spree killers, her profiling skills extended to hunting down a variety of cases handed to her. Serial offenders, no matter what the charge, were some of the trickiest individuals out there when it came to the professional world of crime. But it was always the tough ones Francesca thrived on solving, loving that sense of accomplishment that would arrive when a case closed. Even though the success of one case was short-lived with the assignment of another case to crack, those minuscule moments were worth it all, reminders that her work was valued not only within the FBI, but as a productive role in society.

No matter where an assignment took her or how difficult a case she was dealt, it was her modest home retreat where she worked best, enjoying the calm it could bring in between cases, and the quiet it could shed on an overactive mind.

It was something coworkers had commented on far too many times. Francesca’s inability to leave work at work, and save the moments at home as some sort of spa-like sanctuary. Sure, it all sounded great in theory. Turning off the working mind entirely, however, was easier said than done.

This, though, was nothing to complain about, as far as she was concerned. Her mind had a way of mysteriously working, even in her sleep, and putting together the puzzle pieces of profiling cases was something she lived for. It was her passion. Her obsession. Her purpose.

And really, Chesca had so little of a social life outside of her colleagues and keeping in touch with connections made through Athena Academy, that her downtime away from work was…well, mostly focused on work. It was a stark contrast to the socialite home life she was reared in as a child, that’s for sure. But working the big cases had become her life’s carrot. It’s what made her feel whole.

Smart enough to realize life couldn’t be all work and no play, Francesca did her best to make her home environment as comfortable as possible, so that she had the best of both worlds.

It may have been considered a working playground by some, but to her it was a haven away from the office chaos. A place to concentrate. Formulate ideas. Connect the dots. And it was comfy as hell.

Though the domestic environment of her childhood home was of museum quality—harsh lines, stuffy upholsteries, over-the-top everything—Chesca preferred comfort over style when it came to home fashions. Usually this applied to her personal wardrobe as well. What was the point in having a pricy settee that no one would dare touch? Not that she entertained guests often. Which further emphasized the point of making sure her abode was the most comfortable and casual it could be.

The ultrasuede couch was her most beloved furnishing in the small but ample apartment, nearly seeming overstuffed and oversized for the one-bedroom, second-floor unit. But the collection of throws, mixed-and-matched textures of pillows, and a well-placed shag carpet all catered to the sense of feeling swept off her feet.

Perhaps it was the deliberate contrast of her upbringing that led her to prefer comfort, practicality and function. Whether she was working on an all-night caseload, or drifting off to late-night infomercials, it didn’t matter so long as she could put her feet up, let her back slide into cushiony softness, and feel…at home.

Despite her reputation for being career-focused, Francesca was often regarded as a “what you see is what you get” kind of person, her simple lifestyle contrasting with the often-complex cases she’d encounter in her work world.

Alex Forsythe, fellow Athena grad and FBI forensics colleague to Francesca, had often said she admired this trait in her friend, knowing no matter how complicated the world around them could get sometimes, there was nothing better than counting on a good, solid friendship that was as clear as day, and hassle-free.

Which is exactly how Chesca preferred to keep her living situation. Hassle-free. While a substantial section of her urban apartment was dedicated as a workstation, stacked with files, case histories, and tools of the trade, this never cluttered her comfortable environment, or took over the meaning of her home.

Bringing work home, and letting it clutter her life were two very different things, and Chesca always made sure that no matter how tough a case she was working on, she knew when to file something away for the night, and how to file something as “out of sight, out of mind.”

That’s why it was so important to her to feel completely at ease in her no-nonsense style, and let the warm earthy tones of her chosen décor act as a backdrop for her office away from work. Plush decorative pillows, simple but soft fabrics, and a carpet that hugged her bare toes as she paced back and forth mentally dissecting criminal evidence allowed her to relax, focus, and get the job done while casually clad in cotton boxers or her favorite jeans.

The bare bones but earthy warmth of home was often all she needed to zone into whatever her mind needed to tackle.

But there was little peace within her mind as she sat in the window seat today, watching people below, their faces just a glazed blur as her mind reeled around something much more pressing.

The assignment from Oracle.

Since returning from the case in Baton Rouge, Chesca had managed to have a full day to unpack, unwind and await further information from her extracurricular employment.

Delphi had sent a message informing Chesca a courier would soon be delivering further information pertaining to the assignment, and the only additional hint of what was to come was the mention of something very important to Francesca. Something that would hit close to home with the many women associated with Athena Academy and all those who fought to see it succeed.

She would be profiling the notorious blackmailer Arachne, determining whether she was one and the same as the Queen of Hearts assassin.

The name Arachne was enough to raise the blood pressure of just about any of Francesca’s social circle. With her cover blown, it was now understood Arachne was behind the recent student kidnappings in an attempt to bring down the Academy.

Putting a face to the name would be Francesca’s goal, not only as part of her assignment from Oracle, but to finalize the fight her fellow Athenians had been trying to win for far too long.

Quite honestly, it was an honor to have been assigned this case by Oracle. The intel organization could have called on any of its recruits for such an assignment, but for some reason Delphi had made her selection, and Francesca was not only flattered, but personally determined to do whatever it would take to be of assistance.

Francesca wasn’t the only Athena grad to be recruited by the network, though she had little indication of who the others were, what their roles were, or why they were selected. It was rare to hear of a fellow agent’s work, though it wasn’t entirely unheard of.

For everyone’s safety, she presumed the details of the operation had to be kept secret. The one thing all participants knew, though, was the extreme importance of the intelligence gathering it conducted, as it did its part in fighting for justice even when standard institutions such as the FBI, NSA or CIA backed away.

No one really understood how the information was distributed within Oracle. Only that when an agent had carried through with an assignment, a full report was to be given to Delphi, the enigmatic handler of the operation.

Though Francesca had her suspicions from time to time, she didn’t admit to having a clue of who Delphi might be in reality. Of course it was a code name. But if she was meant to know, she would in time.

For the most part, Francesca had let her analytical mind piece together what she imagined the inner workings of the organization to be, but there was little she knew as honest-to-goodness fact, since she rarely had any contact with Delphi, and never personally came into contact with other agents from the organization.

The few times Delphi had requested Chesca check into something, it was taken care of within hours. She knew from the intake process the types of information she would potentially be handling, but until now she had never been assigned a full case. No matter how long it took, or what the case required of her, Francesca swore this assignment deserved her full and immediate attention.

Before agreeing to send the initial case file, Delphi confirmed with Chesca that she would be able to step away from her regular duties at the FBI for a few days, if not more.

There was no question.

Even if Chesca didn’t have a lengthy stockpile of comp days to her credit, there was no way she’d turn down a full assignment from Oracle. Especially one pertaining to the ongoing battle between Arachne and the Athena Academy. Between her curiosity and her thirst to handle something unique and pressing to the intel organization, this elite opportunity was what she craved. What she had trained for. And despite not knowing the full details of where it would take her yet, for now, Francesca knew her help was needed.

Oracle needed her. The Athena Academy needed her.

She was proud of her experience at the Academy. Grateful for the opportunity afforded her, providing for her the chance to truly work to be the best she could be, both as a young, eager student in her younger days and all the way into her blossoming career.

Thinking back on what an incredible gift the education at Athena Academy was to her, and countless other talented and uniquely gifted young women, Francesca couldn’t help but smile over the memories. They also gave her opportunity to think fondly of her time spent long ago, growing up in the company of others who had as much drive, as much conviction, as she herself possessed. Others she considered dear friends.

Despite having years of positive memories to reflect on, Francesca knew all too well the serious and unfortunate occurrences Athena and her graduates had been subjected to recently, not the least of them happening during the past year or so.

Athena Academy may have been regarded as home to many, but to some…it was something to fight against. Maybe there was something to that old cliché, about people fearing the unknown or the simple things that just weren’t understood by the masses.

The Athena Academy for the Advancement of Women had been born to create opportunities, and contribute something positive to society, and yet there were those who couldn’t help but try to destroy what others helped build.

It saddened Chesca. How a handful of unscrupulous individuals had worked to tarnish the very place she called home, the respectable names she considered family.

Thinking of that home, the place where she’d felt most at ease in her childhood, and in becoming the woman she was today, Francesca had the urge to touch base with the one Athena sister for whom this assignment held the most urgency.

“Allison. It’s been a long time,” she said, grateful to hear the familiar voice over the phone.

Though she wouldn’t confess to the Oracle assignment, and knew very little of what it entailed as of yet, Francesca wanted to speak to the daughter of Marion Gracelyn, founder of Athena Academy.

More than a decade had passed since Marion’s death, but it was only last year that her daughter Allison, along with forensic scientist Alex Forsythe, had discovered Marion was being blackmailed at the time of her murder. Allison had already been through so much with the murder of her best friend Rainy, that Francesca felt the need to reach out to her fellow Athenian.

“Chesca? Don’t tell me you’re actually at home for once.”

She smiled at Allison’s friendly tone and good spirits. With what she’d gone through, well…some wouldn’t be able to handle such tragedies with Allison’s grace and courage. She was truly someone to admire.

“Not home for long, I’m afraid. But I had to hear your voice. See how you are.”

“I know with you it won’t be what I say, but how I say it, so let me make sure I get my intonation correct when I tell you it’s nice to hear your voice, too,” Allison said. “Do I pass?”

“Flying colors,” she said, though already fast-forwarding her thoughts to less amusing concerns.

Not knowing completely what Allison knew about the full assignment given to Chesca, she had to tread lightly on the subject. Thus, she approached her question at an angle. “I understand you’ve been in contact with Beth. Any chance you reclaimed my books for me?”

Allison laughed. The more recent reputation of Bethany James might have been one of professional gambler, but even back in the days at Athena Academy, young Beth knew how to run a poker table. A natural loner, likely due to her upbringing on the streets by a hustling—but loving—father whose lifespan was cut short by an enraged murderer, poker was one of the few social activities Beth would participate in at the Academy.

While Francesca, too, was one who preferred to keep to herself most of the time, the opportunity to play alongside Beth offered up a glimpse into her character, where her true personality was most revealed, and for this Francesca took every chance to get to know her elusive classmate. Even if it meant losing several coveted books to the power player, such as one of Chesca’s favorites on quantum physics.

They were the same age, challenged by the same rigorous program at Athena, but Francesca Thorne and Bethany James were very different, at least to outside eyes.

Beth came from the high-risk life of street gambling, and Francesca emerged from a blue-blood battlefield where money was the root of anything worth caring about. Well, at least in the eyes of her parents. Francesca never fit the mold when it came to that, and she still felt the ramifications to this day from her disappointed mother and father.

Yet on some level, there was a common denominator between those two teenage girls. Both highly intelligent, both focused on striving for their personal best, there was something more that bonded the two of them. They had lost someone dear to them at an early age. And now, they had experienced the same feeling of loss again with the continued revelations surrounding the murder of Senator Marion Gracelyn, a mentor with a passion for the empowerment of women who was sadly removed from this earth, all too soon. And for all the wrong reasons.

“That Beth. She nailed you a few times, didn’t she? Good thing we put an end to that,” Allison said, reminding Chesca of the many times Beth had been busted for her poker nights.

“You think you put an end to it,” Chesca clarified, “but you know she’s an unstoppable force.”

“Aren’t we all?” Allison asked, her tone letting Chesca know she spoke through a smile.

It was true. A force to be reckoned with. That was how graduates were now proudly referring to themselves amongst one another, pleased with the many varied accomplishments each individual class had to offer the world.

Of course, not all Athena grads turned to a profession of law enforcement or politics, as evident with the gambler Bethany James and reporter Tory Patton, to name a few.

One thing all graduates had in common, though, was their intent to fight for justice in one way or another, and when it came to vindicating one of their own, there was no force like that of the Athena Force.

“Then let me ask you,” Francesca said, refocused on the original intent of the phone call. “Do you think the person blackmailing Giambi is the same person who was blackmailing your mother?”

Through her quick glance at the files Delphi had sent over for Francesca’s return to Richmond, she’d already pinpointed a few flags to follow up on.

Salvatore Giambi, owner of the Sapphire Star Casino in Monaco, had recently come forward to the FBI citing his involvement with the Queen of Hearts. While she had plenty of information from Delphi, and could obviously follow up on this incident through files at the Richmond office, she needed to hear the opinion of Marion’s daughter.

“It seems worth pursuing. Beth did some snooping while at one of Giambi’s gambling parties. You may want to check in with her for more details. Anyway, he had been making regular payments into a Puerto Isla bank account, but no one has made a withdrawal in three years.” As Allison paused, Chesca listened to the quiet air over the telephone wires.

“Allison? How are you holding up?” While the assignment would become the number one priority for Francesca, she didn’t want to overlook the sensitivity required when discussing Marion’s death with Allison.

Though rarely emotional, and definitely hard to peg most times, Allison had to be facing unimaginable demons. A person cannot rise above such trauma without feeling conflicted along the way.

“You know me,” Allison said, and though Chesca wanted to laugh, feeling like she didn’t know Allison half as well as some of her other Athenian sisters, she knew this was not the time to be argumentative. This was Allison’s way of letting her know she’d rather not get into a deep discussion about it. “You know where to find me, if you need help in an official capacity—or otherwise for that matter.”

A skilled NSA programmer and mathematician, Allison Gracelyn would no doubt come in handy at some point down the road, and despite her mysterious personality she was always upfront about her support for her fellow Athenians.

“I do, and I’m sure I will,” Chesca said, accepting the conversation as over.

After their pleasant, but brief, goodbyes Chesca continued to study the files revealing Salvatore Giambi’s activities and began to prepare her mind for taking on the assignment. The request from Delphi was to assemble a profile on the blackmailer Arachne, and to determine whether she was one and the same as the Queen of Hearts assassin.

Having kept up with the inside investigation of Marion’s death through the Athena Academy Web site, as well as through occasional conversations with former classmates, Chesca had already heard a bit about each of these personas.

Though she hadn’t personally dived into the investigation until now, she had given a good deal of thought as to why anyone would want to put a stop to the existence of the Athena Academy for the Advancement of Women, and ultimately Marion Gracelyn.

At the time of the academy’s creation, there was a tremendous outcry from politicians, government forces and pretty much any outlet for power, as there was concern such an institution would cause havoc to so-called traditions and standards of training. Though anyone who knew Marion would have known her intentions were simply to offer keen young women the same advantages, and the same opportunities, as men in what was at the time a male-dominated world.

Even now, despite every “equal opportunity employer” claiming to level the playing field, Chesca knew all too well the reality that women had to work that much harder to gain the same respect, the same foot in the door, when it came to so-called equality.

That’s why she’d focused so hard on her academics, fought off youthful urges to socialize when every one of her college classmates were headed out for a night of fun. To get anywhere in this world, Francesca Thorne knew she had to channel her drive, passion and motivation into one focused fusion of settling for nothing less than excellence.

It was that internal focus which elicited her recruitment by Oracle. It was that passion which would propel her to uncover the truth about Arachne and compile a profile that would lead to solving this bit of tragic Athenian history.

There was nothing about this profiling assignment that caused worry or concern for Francesca. She knew her skills, recognized her strengths and knew when to let others assist her, and with the personal nature of this case, she knew she’d do whatever it took to get the information Delphi requested of her.

That included doing something she did not particularly look forward to. Making a trip to Boston.

Though a beautiful and historic city, and no doubt the best place to start off her investigation, seeing that both Giambi and this Queen of Hearts character hailed from there, the city was also home to a few other unscrupulous individuals.

The Thorne family.

Though it made her stomach cry out in knots when thinking of going back to her own hometown—something she hadn’t done in some time, thankfully—Chesca knew she had to do whatever she was called to do. That included accepting that uncomfortable feeling of treading on home turf.

With her simple style and no-nonsense knack for packing, Chesca did a once-over to make sure she had everything she would need for the next few days. A basic wardrobe, the Oracle case files, and the reservation number for the car rental she had arranged just hours ago.

Looking at the concise travel ensemble, it all seemed straightforward enough. But Chesca knew there was nothing simple about returning to the blueblood neighborhoods in which she’d been raised prior to Athena Academy. Not when it was that very hometown she was so pleased to outrun in her youth. Thankfully, since this was an investigation into the criminal underbelly, Chesca would likely be trekking around a few locales less than familiar to her family’s grassy estate.

Not that the Thorne family was innocent when it came to committing social crimes of their own. Infidelities, stock-trading tricks and business activities that sometimes seemed less than level in the eyes of their daughter, Chesca knew her father Dorian and mother Abigail were less than perfect.

Yet despite their various affairs, sexual and otherwise, the Thorne family had a stellar reputation amongst the silver-platter crowd, one that irked the very soul of Francesca. How is it, she often wondered, that people with such power choose to abuse it and use it for their own personal gain?

That was often the case, though, she knew. For blueblood parents or high-stakes criminals, the game was always the same. Those who sought out personal power and couldn’t care less about who got in their way. This was the world she was going back to, the one she’d so gratefully left years ago.

The only thing that triumphed over the sick feeling in her gut was knowing that when it came to solving cases, sometimes the best place to start was the beginning. And, as far as she could tell, for Giambi and the Queen of Hearts, their history began in Boston.

As she locked her apartment door behind her, Chesca breathed a sigh of anxiety and trepidation. “Then Boston, here I come. Oh, there’s no place like home.”