Chapter Ten
Goose bumps pebbledBreanna’s arm when she came into the office.Why the fuck is it always a deep freeze in here?She placed the stack of files she held in her arms down on her desk and walked over to the thermostat, shaking her head in disbelief when the digital number fifty-eight appeared on the reader.That’s insane!She punched in seventy, then returned to her desk. The cold blowing air abruptly stopped and a satisfied smile spread over her face.
As she reviewed her cases from that day, Joel walked in with a can of Pepsi. She held her head down, pretending to be absorbed in her work, hoping it’d do the trick in keeping him from approaching her.
No such luck.
“Hey, you’re back. How’d it go?” he asked as he brought the can to his lips.
“Okay. I got a lot more done than I thought. It seems like the majority of people have a knack for misplacing their EBT cards. It’s wild.” She turned toward her keyboard. “I want to input the information while it’s still fresh in my mind.” Joel took a few loud gulps, then crushed his can and threw it in her wastepaper basket. The clash of metal on metal jarred her and she jumped slightly. “I’m kinda busy here. Sorry I can’t chat.”
“A tough-looking Native came in to see you. He was so fuckin’ pissed.”
Breanna’s fingers stiffened and she couldn’t tap another letter. “Did he give his name?”
“No. He was real mad that you weren’t here. He didn’t give me a chance to get any information. When I said you were out and I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, he just stormed out of here.”
She sucked in deeply. “Was he tall and built, with a scar on his face?” She knew it was Steel before Joel confirmed it.
“Yeah. So who is he? Does he live on the rez?”
Knowing he came to the office looking for her made her insides quiver, like she was ready to fall off the edge of a cliff into a soothing pool of crystal clear water—exciting and welcoming at the same time.
Before she could answer, Janet, another coworker, came into Breanna’s cubicle. “Special Agent Powers told me to tell you guys that we’re all meeting in the conference room.”
The “conference room” was a round table with six chairs in the breakroom. Breanna turned off her monitor and followed Joel and Janet. Two men sat at the table: Special Agents Richard Raley and Jim Powers. They were investigators with the FBI, and all three of the caseworkers had filled several afternoons surmising why the men were sent to their satellite office. Raley was in his mid-forties, with blue eyes and brown hair that was graying at his temples, whereas Powers was a good ten years younger with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes. Each man was in good shape, but Special Agent Powers looked like his after-work obsession was pumping iron at the gym. They rarely spoke to the social workers, preferring to keep to themselves behind their closed office doors.
Breanna opened the compact fridge, took out a bottle of water, and then sat down, unscrewing the top and taking a deep drink. She stared at the two men as they shuffled papers around, heads bent, eyes fixed downward. After several minutes, the men looked up, and Investigator Raley cleared his throat.
“I wanted to call this meeting to introduce ourselves to you and to let you know why we’re here. I’d like for us to work together, and if you ever have any questions, problems, or information, please find either me or Jim”—he tilted his head in the direction of the younger man to his right—“and let us know.”
The three caseworkers nodded. Breanna sat back in the hard plastic chair and listened as the FBI agent told them they were sent to investigate food stamp fraud. The missing EBT cards immediately entered her mind.Was Steel’s mother committing food stamp fraud?She couldn’t believe the soft-spoken, kind woman would be capable of something like that, but looks could be deceiving.
“Why the hell do people want EBT cards?” Joel asked.
Powers spread his hands out on the table. “The ones selling them need the cash, and the ones buying them are normally unscrupulous retailers. The cards are bought for thirty or fifty cents on the dollar. So if someone has an EBT card for three hundred dollars, then the buyer will give either one hundred fifty or as low as ninety dollars cash for the card. If the buyer is a retailer, he’ll use the three hundred dollars to buy cheap food wholesale, then mark it up three or four times in his store and make a killing. Food stamp fraud costs the taxpayers millions of dollars every year.”
“And the seller gets cash to buy stuff he can’t with the card, like alcohol and tobacco. A lot of times the cash is used to buy guns or drugs. Sometimes drug dealers will take EBT cards instead of cash, giving the junkie twenty-five cents on the dollar. Then the dealer will resell it to a retailer,” Raley said.
Breanna took another sip of her water. “What do you want from us?”
“Information. We need to know who’s reporting an inordinate amount of lost or stolen cards. One time can be excused, but if someone has reported more than two cards missing in a six-month cycle, then fraud is highly likely.” Jim locked his hands together and placed them behind his head.
“Breanna’s been asked by the department to check out clients who’ve had too many cards reported as lost,” Joel said.
“Is that so?” Jim turned to her, and she nodded. “What have you found out?”
“I’m still gathering the information. I should have a report finished by the end of next week.” For reasons she couldn’t comprehend, she didn’t want to tell these FBI agents about Steel’s mother or Mika. Both of the women reported several cards missing, and the common denominator seemed to be Chenoa. She wanted to talk to Steel about it first—Chenoa had enough problems going on in her life—although Breanna knew she was teetering on a thin wire between doing her job and covering up a possible fraud.
“I want to see the report as soon as you complete it, okay?” She nodded. “This is a county-wide problem, but it appears as though it’s happening in higher frequency at the reservation.” Jim turned to Richard. “Anything else you want to add?” He shook his head. “Okay then. Get us that report, Breanna, and let’s all work together in stamping out the fraud. Remember to keep your ears open, but don’t be foolish and try to play amateur sleuth. The investigating part is our job. Don’t forget that.”
Breanna pushed her chair back and stood up. She had a ton of work to input before she got off work, so she settled at her desk and opened the first file on top of the stack.
“That’s a load of shit they just fed us,” Joel said as he lounged against the makeshift wall.
She looked up, surprised at the angry scowl on his face. “I don’t think so. It seems like there’s an excessive number of lost cards being reported at the rez. I’m sure the feds wouldn’t waste their agents for the hell of it.”
“What’s the fucking big deal anyway if someone wants some extra cash to buy a bottle of beer or a pack of cigs? They’re so damn poor around here, why not let them have some fun?”
