Agent Murphy
Murphy and Harper finished breakfast when Murphy’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked to see who was calling.
“Shit!”
“Who is it?” Harper asked.
“The boss,” she said, immediately standing. “I’m going to take it outside.”
She started maneuvering through the restaurant as she accepted the call. “Agent Murphy,” she said as she was opening the door.
“Agent Murphy, it’s Geraldine Jackson’s office. Hold to speak to Special Agent in Charge Jackson,” a voice said.
There was a momentary pause before an audio recording was picked up mid-message, extolling the virtues of the FBI. She walked toward the parking lot. The sun was already up and heating the muggy town. They’d been on a series of recording-breaking-temperature days with temps hitting the low nineties. Though October heat wasn’t unheard of, Murphy was ready for things to cool off in New Orleans for many reasons. She found some shade on the side of the building and leaned against the wall.
“Agent Murphy. What in the hell is going on? I got read the riot act by a federal judge and the director this morning.”
Murphy stood and collected her thoughts, not knowing quite where to start.
“Talk!” Agent Jackson’s voice said, with no emotion over the phone.
“Yes, ma’am.” Thankfully, Murphy knew lying to the boss was dangerous, so she laid out her entire reasoning and investigation. She could hear Jackson’s pencil moving over a legal pad over the phone. Jackson was a furious notetaker, and Murphy had seen her fill an entire pad in one meeting.
When Murphy finished the case rundown, Jackson said, “Let me look at something really fast….” She then heard the clickity-clackity noise of Jackson’s keyboard. “Your assumption about the DNA was correct. I read the report. The trace evidence on the contraception found in Mr. Hawthorne’s place was a match for Mr. Bond. However, since Bond is not a suspect in any crime, I better not see that information reported anywhere.”
“It won’t come from my end of the investigation, sir,” Murphy responded. “I have no desire to out anyone. But I know Stephen McNeil from RNN has the story about Hawthorne and Bond’s relationship. He’s like a dog with a bone.”
There was a huff. “I’ve dealt with Mr. McNeil before. He’s itching to make a name for himself. He’s one rung above working atThe National Enquirer. Send him directly to the FBI National Press Office if he reaches out to you again. I don’t even want so much as a ‘no comment’ coming out of your mouth on camera. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re lucky, Agent Murphy. The physical evidence and your logic support the claims you made in the warrant. I wouldn’t plan on taking a warrant directly to Judge Vangelisti anytime soon, though. Someone leaned on her heavily. Not sure who it was, but she was not a happy camper this morning. I’ll make sure you have coverage from the director. But in the future, anything like this is to be run by me first. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Murphy said, wiping sweat from her brow.Damn, it is getting hot out here.
“Now, with all that said. I have other news for you.”
“Yes?” Murphy asked hesitantly.
“The man Ethan Bond left the Houston Airport with is named Blayne Dickenson. The director had a few field agents looking into this missing person situation himself.”
“What do we know about this man?”
“Not much. I’ll email you the dossier I received.”
“What should I do with this information, sir?”
“Nothing. Officially, this is neither a missing person nor aterrorismcase. And since I have evidence Mr. Bond was busy during Cynthia Dunning and Daniel Hawthorne’s murders, he is no longer a concern to you. Maybe it’s time you refocus your energy on who killed Dunning and Hawthorne.”
“What evidence, ma’am?”
“The director has seen Mr. Bond’s schedule, along with a video of Ethan’s whereabouts at the time of the murders.”
Murphy wanted to let out a series of ‘fucks’ over the phone but held it in. Instead, she asked, “Why did we not have this information ourselves?”
“The footage was taken by one of Mr. Bond’s press team and uploaded to the cloud around three a.m. this morning. Someone anonymously sent the director the link.”
“That doesn’t seem suspicious at all.”
