Raise a Little Hell

If yo don't like what you see,
Why don't you fight it?
If you know there's something wrong,
Why don't you right it?

 

“You did what?” Sean's eyebrows shot up.

“He’s giving us access to all his pictures. Every single one. I just have to be his date for the fundraiser on Saturday,” Amy explained for the second time.

“But … but … “ he sputtered, trying to get his objection out. “You were going to be my date, remember?”

“You told me to figure out a way to get access to the pictures,” she replied crossly. “You can find another date. We were just going together for work reasons.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sean couldn't quite meet Amy’s gaze. “But you left it to the last minute.”

“Well, if nothing else you can go stag,” she suggested. “Or better yet, you could ask Ellie, Charlie’s secretary.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he balked. “I can find a date. It's just that I thought we were going together for work.”

“Now I’m going with Walt for work.”

“I’ve got it, Freeman. No need to rub it in.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Barnes!” She scowled at him. “It’s just a freaking date. We’re not going to elope or hop in bed or anything like that. Besides, you were the one who told me to do whatever I needed to get the pictures. Now that I did exactly that, you’re making a federal case out of it.”

Sean mustered every ounce of professionalism he could before answering. “Just in case you don’t realize, this is a federal case, a very serious federal case. So let’s start looking at the new pictures. How did you set it up with Tyllman so we can access the photos?”

“It’s pretty easy.” She assumed an identical air of professionalism. “Walt set us up with a login and an account on his system.”

“Oh, so it’s Walt now,” he muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?” Her eyes narrowed.

“I said let’s get logged in now.”

 

 

“Are you sure, Trixie?” Honey asked anxiously.

“I’m positive! The yacht is clean, but I have a feeling that someone might show up here. I can handle that if it happens, and you don't want to hang out here the rest of the day on surveillance. It's more important for you to try and find out what's going on with Ben. You should call him and give him hell about those papers.”

Honey chewed her lip anxiously. “Are you sure? I don’t want him to know that I know that he’s a double-agent or whatever we’re going to call him.”

“We don’t know if he’s a double-agent,” Trixie reminded her. “We don’t know how he knows what he knows, but you’re going to find out what he knows.”

“Should I go by his office?”

“You should do what you would do if you didn’t know anything.” Trixie was firm. “Remember, as far as Ben Riker is concerned you don’t know about me working undercover or anything else. Nothing about a code phrase, terrorists, this boat, nothing.”

“I know nothing,” Honey echoed with a small giggle. “I am only the messenger.”

Trixie laughed and gave her a small push. “Now go. I’m going to investigate some more to see if I can find anything the police may have missed. Then I may need to talk to my boss and give him a report. This boat’s the perfect place, because I don’t have to worry about being overheard.” It wasn’t much of a stretch, Trixie thought. She could call her boss before she left the boat if necessary.

Honey nodded. “Okay.”

“And make sure Barnes got protection on Harold.”

“Oh! Trixie, how does it look in the boat? I mean … can you tell? Tammy made arrangements for it to be cleaned, but …”

“You can’t tell,” Trixie assured her. “It looks fine.”

“One more thing, Trix,” Honey grabbed her hand and looked around. “A cute young woman stopped by while I was waiting. She was dressed like an employee of the marina, with a name tag that said ‘Maria’. I’m not sure if she was legitimate or not, but watch out for her.”

Trixie bit back a smile. A little bit of spy craft was going a long way with Honey Wheeler, but she had to take the concern seriously. “Okay, stop by the marina office and confirm sure she’s an employee. If you’re still uncomfortable, have Sean or Amy run a background check. If anything pops, call me.”

Honey nodded and took off while Trixie watched until her friend turned the corner and disappeared from her line of sight. She returned to the boat, and quickly made her way back down the ladder to the main salon.

“You and your partner must know each other very well,” Elizabeth remarked.

“Why do you say that?” Trixie asked.

“Because I think you are the only two people in the world who could follow that conversation.”

 

 

“Any luck with the pictures?”

“Some,” Amy replied absently. Her attention was directed to her own computer monitor. “You think Belden is okay with Madeleine Wheeler as her backup?”

“Yeah,” Sean answered. “She would never have taken her partner with her if she had any idea she might need us for back-up.”

Amy looked up, a puzzled expression on her face. “Her partner? I thought you were her partner?”

Sean snorted in derision. “You really are green, aren’t you? Of course Madeleine Wheeler is her partner. You’re my partner.”

“I have a partner.” Amy said the words in awe. This had been her first real field assignment and the first time she'd been assigned a partner. His words brought it home to her that Sean was her partner. Until that point, she'd considered him Belden's partner.

“Yeah – you have a partner. A senior partner. You scare me sometimes, Freeman, with your insightful intellect. Now, get to work on those photos. I have a feeling about this computer.”

Amy grinned and turned back to her own computer monitor. For some reason, the thought that Sean Barnes was her first partner made her happy. I have a partner! The thought wouldn’t stop running through her head. The chirping sound of the office phone interrupted her thoughts and she reached for the receiver.

It took only a moment’s conversation before she put the call on hold and spoke to Sean. “It's our other boss—Ms. Wheeler. She wants to know if the security detail is in place on Harold.”

He picked up the phone and identified himself. “We confirmed earlier that there would be both private and police security on Mr. Langham,” he informed her. “Our private security called to check in about twenty minutes ago. They are working covertly to provide a second layer of security so you will not see them if you return to the hospital to check.”

Amy listened, trying to glean what Honey Wheeler was asking from Sean's responses.

“We think that's the most secure method, Ms. Wheeler. It provides a layer that's not obvious to anyone who may be watching. The last thing we want to do is to tip off anyone that he’s improving if they’re watching the situation.”

Another pause and then a final reply. “Understood.”

He hung up the phone and looked at Amy. “Wheeler wants us to run a quick background check on a Maria Coleman who works at the North Cove Marina.”

 

 

“How did Riker know the code phrase?” Trixie had barely settled in the matching chair across from Elizabeth Patterson before she blurted the question that was eating away at her.

Buffy shook her head as she replied. “I have no idea, but before we get to that let me ask you something. If I was your top suspect, who else is still on the list?”

“With you off the list, there are only three women left that I consider potential terrorists.” Trixie ticked the names off on her fingers. “Margaret Gaitley, her step-daughter Tinsley Gaitley, or Kitty Buchanan.”

Buffy frowned as she considered the names. “Look, you can forget Tinsley. She may be involved, but if she is, then she's only a minor player. At best, she would be at the lowest level in the organization. She could never be the brains for a terrorist organization. As for Kitty ….” Her voice trailed off.

“What about Kitty?”

“I don’t know,” she finally answered. “When Daddy agreed to sell Triad to her uncle, both companies did a massive amount of due diligence. I did everything I could to check out her involvement then, but couldn’t find even a whisper of a problem. Why is she on your short list?”

Trixie shrugged. “The primary reason is because I wasn’t able to eliminate her from the suspect list. A few things didn’t ring true to me. First, she makes my hackles rise and my claws come out. She weighs the same thing I weigh but she's five inches taller and thinks she's fat. That means she's must think I'm grossly obese.”

Elizabeth snorted. “She does obsess about her weight.”

Trixie nodded and continued. “Second, she really messed things up for someone I consider to be a friend. But putting aside my general dislike for the woman, as best as I can determine, she has no alibi for Allison’s murder.”

The eyebrows shot up with that answer. “You think Kitty killed Allison?”

Another shrug accompanied Trixie's reply. “You wouldn't think so from her reaction, but at the same time, Kitty Buchanan is the one person who knew most, if not all, of Allison's secrets. Allison was definitely a supporter of IRMA and despite what many people think a terrorist looks like, she was a classic example of the new face of terrorism. Unfortunately for IRMA, Allison was in a position of prominence and that would have made it difficult for her to lead, not to mention she’d have to be very careful about recruiting. She did everything she could to find the technology in question at her husband’s company and when we finally backtracked the hacking at FireKing to B3, it was obvious she was behind it. Reid Beckhart doesn’t have the encryption technology that IRMA wants. If he had, Allison would have found it long ago. Obviously, since she hacked into their systems and we did our own search, FireKing doesn’t have it. That leaves Triad, Torch and Kingston. If you are who you say you are, that means Triad doesn’t have it either. If you found no records of it at Torch … I guess by process of elimination it’s at Kingston. And that’s the only company I haven’t been able to get inside.”

“What do you mean if I am who I say I am?” Buffy’s eyes blazed.

“Oh, excuse me...” Trixie retorted. “It's not like you're the first person to use that silly code phrase on me.”

“Oh hell’s bells!” Buffy threw up her hands. “Are we really back to that again?”

Trixie just stared, her expression unmoving.

Buffy sighed. “Fine!” Rolling her eyes, she recited as if she were an automated recording: “Project: Orchid. Codeword: Angel.” She looked at Trixie in question.

“The rose that I was searching for has proved to be untrue.” Trixie recited back at her.

“The orchid that I find my dear is you.” Buffy completed the entire code phrasing and the end of the song lyric. “Satisfied?”

Trixie nodded. “Sorry, I'm just feeling ....”

“Betrayed!” Buffy finished for her. “Tell me about it. If my cover is blown, there's no way IRMA will let me live. I'll be as good as dead. Now, tell me, why do you want Harold Langham's laptop? I can assure you it doesn't have the missing technology on it.”

“I never thought that it did,” Trixie retorted. “But at this point, I think I'm more interested in why you want it. Do you plan to keep funneling money from Langham's accounts?”

 

 

“Maria Coleman checks out,” Amy said. “She's an assistant at the marina and has been employed there for three years. Before that, she worked a variety of different jobs while attending community college and has a two year degree. No hits on any suspicious activity.”

“Great!” Sean replied. “I'll pass that along to Wheeler.” He paused for only a moment. “Any luck with the pictures?”

She nodded. “This guy is uber-organized! He tags everyone he recognizes and he doesn't miss much. The people are well-categorized and he even tags bouncers and waiters that he knows. Seriously, Barnes, this is any amazing system.”

He paused from his own tasks and moved to look over her shoulder. She demonstrated the organizational tagging that Walt Tyllman had set up on his software; he gave a low whistle of admiration. “You're not kidding! That's like hitting the treasure trove.”

“Yeah, and to top it all off, every picture is date and time stamped. It's really something.”

“Found anything?”

“A few things,” she admitted. “Belden was right about Beckhart. There is no way he could've personally killed his wife. The time stamp on these photos from the Skating with the Stars Gala makes it impossible. It's been proven she was still alive after he left the house with his daughter and they stayed at the Gala for quite a while. His daughter must've skated with every skating professional there.”

“That is the point,” he replied. “Anything else?”

“It gives alibis for a few others, but let me ask you something.”

“Yeah, what?”

“Did you know Belden is a fairly decent ice skater?”

 

 

“I'm not quite sure you understand what I'm saying,” Honey was struggling to maintain her professionalism in the confrontation with Ben's new assistant. “I'm going to see Benjamin Riker and I'm not leaving here until I do. I don’t care if he’s meeting with the owners, partners, or even the attorney-general of the United States. So I suggest you find him in whatever meeting he’s in and let him know that unless he wants to lose the account of the Belden-Wheeler Agency, the account of Wheeler International, and the accounts of anyone else that I know who does business here at your firm, then he’ll meet with me in five minutes.”

Honey Wheeler could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times in her life that she’d pulled on her money and her connections to get what she wanted. This one was of those rare times when she felt like the situation warranted the same. Not to mention, she hardly felt it counted since technically Ben Riker was family.

Warranted or not, the family connection seemed to spark Ben’s assistant into action. She murmured that it would take just a moment and then escorted Honey into Ben’s office to wait. This suited Honey just fine. Once the assistant had left, she didn’t hesitate to move around the desk and peruse Ben’s computer. She opened desk drawers and thumbed through files with an urgency and speed that came from practice at working in a law office environment. Her eyes narrowed and she paused when she came across her file for the business, but she decided it wouldn’t yield any meaningful explanation for Ben’s behavior. His motivation had to come from somewhere else. Pushing the drawer shut, she paused to listen, cursing the plush carpeting that would mute the sounds of his arrival. She moved her search to the items on top of the desk, pausing when she uncovered a small digital device. Tapping the screen and studying the display, she realized it was a treasure trove of information and did something totally out of character. She slid the unit into her bag. Satisfied that would be enough; she moved back around the desk and pulled out her phone as if working while she waited. When a harried Ben finally arrived, she appeared unruffled and engrossed in reading her email.

“Honey!” Carefully and quietly, he pulled the door closed behind him. “What on earth is going on? I was in a meeting with some of the partners, but the old hag outside said you were quite upset. Is something wrong with Aunt Grace or Uncle Matt?”

Honey sniffed and slid her phone into the outside pocket of her handbag. It wouldn’t do for him to see the device she’d lifted. “Why on earth did you give those papers to Trixie? You know that I specifically asked you to deliver them to me at the apartment.”

“They were delivered to Trixie?” he asked, his tone incredulous. “I can’t believe that battle-axe. She’s terrible. Don’t worry, Honey, after this they’ll have to fire her.”

Honey leaned forward, her hazel eyes dark and ominous. “Don’t feed me that crap, Benjamin Thomas Riker. Unfortunately for you, Trixie told me you personally handed her the envelope. I saw the envelope and the post-it with instructions that it was urgently needed to be sent by messenger to Trixie. A sticky note in your handwriting – which means you deliberately gave it to her. What I want to know is why?”

He held up his hands in surrender and attempted a feeble grin. “I give up. You got me. Honestly, Honey, I just couldn’t help myself. It sounded like it would be funny. Come on, you have to admit you can see the funny side of it, right?”

“No…” she ground out through clenched jaws. “You may have ruined a friendship of over fifteen years with your stupidity. So, no!” She stood up leaned across the desk and poked his chest with her finger as she spoke each word. “It’s not … One! Bit! Funny!”

“Come on, Cuz. I can call Trixie and explain. You know she won’t stay mad at you for long, not after I talk to her. Really, you know that you’ll look back on this in the morning and laugh.”

Honey reached for her purse and threw the oversized designer bag over her shoulder. “No, I don’t think that I do know that, Benjamin. But this much I do know. You’re not going to be handling my legal business after this. Once I speak with Daddy, I’m fairly certain you won’t be handling his business either, not to mention Wheeler International.”

“Honey…” he wheedled with all the charm he could muster. “You don’t mean that. Really, it was all intended to be a joke -- just me having a bit of fun with the two of you.”

She shook her head and glared at him. “I don’t believe that for one second, Benjamin. You have some reason for doing what you did, and quite frankly I don’t really care what it is. It’s going to be a long time before I can speak civilly to you, so I strongly suggest unless you want me to expand the list of lost clients that you keep your distance from me, my family and my friends. And that includes Trixie!”

Ben could only stare as she stormed out of his office, not even giving him the closure of a slammed office door. He sighed, realizing the antics he'd started were part of something much bigger and deeper than he’d ever imagined. He picked up the phone and dialed a number, cursing under his breath when the call rolled to voice mail. Once the required tone beeped, he left a message.

“I did exactly what you wanted and now I’ve lost some major accounts for my firm. You better call as soon as you can. I’m not at all certain that I’m going to have a job at the end of the week.”

Under the circumstances that was all he could do. Glancing at his watch, he decided to call it a day. There was no point in staying to explain to the partners what had transpired.