Lust, Money & Murder (6 page)

She moved closer, squinting at the label.

VIAGRA
.

That explains a lot
, Elaine thought.
He must be pickled in the stuff.

He came out of the bathroom, still naked and still erect, the bloody condom dangling from his finger.

She looked away.

“You’ve never done it before?”

“No,” Elaine said, putting on her other shoe.
And I’m certainly not going to do it again with you.

* * *

When Elaine told Ashley what had happened, she started laughing. Then Elaine started laughing, too. They both laughed so hard they cried. “Go, Rodriguez, go!” Ashley kept repeating, in between fits of hysteria, pounding the mattress of her bed.

When they finally composed themselves, Ashley looked somberly at Elaine. “So, how was it, overall?”

Elaine shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

“Well, that’s good. Did you come?”

Elaine blushed. “A couple of times.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah. Overall, I think sex is overrated.”

* * *

Once Elaine lost her virginity and no longer felt like a leper, she concentrated on her studies again. It actually did make her more comfortable around boys. But she didn’t pay them much attention. Romance could come later—she was on a “mission.” She did not tell Ashley or anyone else the real reason she was at RISD, that it was part of a grand strategy to get a job at the Secret Service. Like most of the other RISD students, Ashley was a gifted artist. She and everyone else were so passionate about what they were doing that Elaine felt terribly cold and calculating at times, like someone who was using RISD merely as a means to an end.

Still, she was determined to avenge her father’s death. Nothing could stop her from that. Deep down, she simply didn’t feel like she could move forward in life until justice was done. She was going to track down Ronald Eskew, legally, and punish him.

To increase her chances of getting a job at the Secret Service, she took a second major in Russian. She had learned that much of the international currency counterfeiting activity occurred in Eastern Europe and the countries that made up the former Soviet Union. Even though Russian was difficult, it was the common language among those countries, and she figured that it was the best choice. She took the Russian classes at Brown. She enjoyed hanging out with the students there, as they were quite different from the arty, RISD types.

* * *

The four years at RISD went by amazingly fast for Elaine. She and Kaitlin kept in touch with each other, as they had promised they would. The first couple of years, they communicated using Facebook on almost a daily basis. But then, they slowly drifted apart, especially after junior year, when Kaitlin met this incredibly hunky law student at Northwestern named Matthew and moved in with him.

Elaine roomed the entire four years with Ashley, but like Kaitlin, Ashley eventually found a serious boyfriend, another design student at RISD, a year ahead of them. After that, Ashley spent most nights with him.

Cupid never shot his arrows Elaine’s way. Every now and then she would see some young man that gave her goose bumps at a distance, but when she engaged in physical contact, it was always a disappointment. Like “Mr. Rodriguez,” as she and Ashley referred to the young man who deflowered her, Elaine inevitably found the good-looking ones too vain and self-centered. And like the Brown philosophy major, the intellectually stimulating ones all seemed unsure of themselves in bed.

In May of her senior year, Elaine got a call from Kaitlin, telling her that she and Matthew were getting married. Elaine flew to Chicago for the wedding, which was held in a beautiful park on the edge of Lake Michigan.

When Elaine came back to Rhode Island, she cried her eyes out.

She told herself that love could not be forced, that she had no choice but to wait patiently—or impatiently—for it to come her way.

CHAPTER 1.6

One afternoon Elaine came back from her intaglio printing class and Ashley was in the room, a rare occurrence these days. She was sitting at her drawing table and turned around to look at Elaine.

“What the hell have you done?” she asked, staring.

Elaine frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“A few minutes ago, some ‘government agency’ called and started asking questions about you.”

“What did they say, exactly?” Elaine’s heart was already pounding.

“All kinds of personal stuff—if you were honest, if you ever stole things, if you did drugs...”

Elaine was grinning ear to ear.

Ashley stared. “This makes you happy? Am I missing something?”

“I applied for a job with the Secret Service.”

“You applied for...
what
?”

“A job at the Secret Service. It’s not so strange, Ashley,” Elaine added, a little defensively. She had known Ashley wouldn’t understand. Like most everyone else at RISD, Ashley was applying for jobs at the fashion houses and design firms in New York, Boston, LA and Chicago. Elaine had applied for most of the same jobs—she and Ashley had filled out a lot of the applications together.

“The Secret Service hires a lot of people who have experience in graphic design and printing,” Elaine explained.

“I’m sure you’re right, but...jeez, Elaine. The Secret
Service
?”

“It was just a whim, Ashley. I thought I would just send in an application and see what happened. Why not?”

She did not tell Ashley that the application was 34 pages long and that she had slaved over it for an entire month. Elaine had filled out most of it online, and had made sure no printed portions were around for curious eyes to see. The hardest part was the Knowledge, Skills and Abilities (KSA) essays. They were supposed to show the applicant’s “ability to deal with people, take responsibility, and make independent decisions.”

Before Ashley left for her next class, she looked at Elaine a long moment. “You’re a strange bird, Ms. Brogan.” She gave Elaine a warm hug. “But I love ya. I hope you get the job, if that’s what you really want.”

“It’s what I want, Ashley. And thanks for the support.”

* * *

The Secret Service called two days later and scheduled an interview for the following Monday at 2 pm, at the field office in Providence.

Elaine was euphoric at first, but the feeling soon faded. She realized that on some level she’d hoped she wouldn’t get this far. The multi-stage process she was about to voluntarily engage in was intimidating, to say the least.

If she passed the interview, she would have to take the TEA, or Treasury Enforcement Agent Exam. From what Elaine could gather, the TEA was a bit like the SAT test, but for people who wanted to become Secret Service agents. It had three parts—Part A, verbal reasoning; Part B, arithmetic reasoning; and Part C, problems for investigation. There were commercial study guides available for it. She was studying for finals right now. She dreaded the thought.

Then, if she was clever enough to pass the TEA, she would be invited back to the local field office for another interview. This somber event went under the imposing name of “Factor V.” A panel of three senior Secret Service agents grilled you for 90 minutes to make for a fun-filled afternoon.

If you passed the Factor V, then came the lie detector test, an intensive physical exam, and an equally intensive psychological exam.

Only if you jumped all these hurdles would the Secret Service get serious about hiring you as a Special Agent. All the jobs in the Service required a Top Secret security clearance, so you had to undergo a thorough background check that left no stone unturned. Every address you had ever lived was verified and investigated. In-depth interviews were conducted with your friends, neighbors, coworkers, classmates, teachers, former employers, and anybody else you had ever known. This was to evaluate your honesty, judgment, reputation, financial responsibility, and of course your overall character. Then, and only then, would the Hiring Panel meet and make a final decision about you.

What bothered Elaine most was the psychological exam. By that point, they would know all about her father’s arrest for passing counterfeit currency. Elaine was wise enough to know that no law enforcement agency would ever hire anyone who had a vigilante mentality, someone who wanted to settle a personal grudge against a criminal. Elaine knew from the beginning that she had to hide her heartfelt desire to avenge her father’s death and create the impression that applying for the Secret Service was an idea that only recently occurred to her.

This was the main reason she had applied for all the “normal” jobs with Ashley. The truth was, she had no interest in any of them.

The only job she was interested in was being a Special Agent in the Secret Service.

* * *

Elaine did well in the interviews, passed the TEA by a wide margin, and passed the physical exam and the lie detector test. There was one tense moment when she was taking the lie detector test and the questioner said, “Did you have any knowledge of your father’s illegal activities?” Elaine had answered “No.” She half-expected the needles on the machine to swing wildly off the scale, but she didn’t notice any change. Her answer was truthful, but she thought she had known from a very early age, at least unconsciously, that her father was doing something illegal to pay for her education at Bromley. Apparently the machine did not notice.

* * *

By the time the psychological exam finally rolled around, Elaine had graduated from RISD and was living in a microscopic apartment in Providence. She increased her hours at the cafe to support herself. She’d had a couple of job offers, one in New York and one in Boston, but turned them both down, banking on being accepted into the Secret Service. She knew it was crazy to put all her eggs in one basket, but she just couldn’t get excited about working for a graphic design firm. The farther along she progressed in the Secret Service employment process, the more determined she became to get the job. It was a challenge.

* * *

When she sat down in the comfortable chair in the psychologist’s office, she was surprisingly calm.

His name was Dr. Steiner. He was in his 50s, with a snow-white goatee and penetrating blue eyes. He looked like the type of man who didn’t miss a trick.

He started with the usual psychological tests with Elaine—Rorschach ink blot, free association, freehand drawing—and then started asking questions about Elaine’s childhood.

“I see here that your father was arrested for passing counterfeit currency and construction site theft.” He looked up at Elaine. “How do you feel about that?”

She tried to remain relaxed. “Of course I was very upset. I was only sixteen. I had no idea that my father was involved in any kind of—”

“I didn’t ask you how you felt about it
then
, Ms. Brogan. I’m asking how you feel about it now.”

“Oh.” The man was apparently too smart to fall for that approach. “I’m not sure what you mean. Can you be more specific?”

Steiner motioned to her. “Do you feel angry about it? Sad? Ashamed? Vindictive? You and your father must have been very close.” He looked at the file. “It says here your mother left when you were...ten?”

“That’s right.” Elaine could feel sweat trickling down her back. She had prepared a dozen different answers to this question, but she didn’t know which one to use. “My father was not a sophisticated man, Dr. Steiner. He only had a ninth grade education. Now that I have some distance on my growing up, I feel genuinely sorry for him. I know he was doing the best he could.”

Dr. Steiner nodded. “You’re not angry with him, then?”

“Not anymore. At first I was mad at him for killing himself and leaving me all alone. But I’ve come to terms with it now. He just couldn’t cope.”

“The police report says he never revealed where he got the counterfeit money.” Steiner looked up at her. “Do you have any idea where it came from?”

“No,” Elaine lied. “I always assumed he got it from whoever was buying the stolen construction site materials.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I never gave that part of it much thought—I’m sure he didn’t know the money was counterfeit, no matter where it came from.”

“I see.” Steiner studied her for a long moment. “So, your desire to become a Special Agent has nothing whatsoever to do with your father’s arrest...”

This was the $64,000 question. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Of course my father’s arrest made me dislike counterfeiters a little more than other types of criminals. I’m basically a very moral person. I applied for this job because I think it will be satisfying to help protect the United States against criminal activities of all kinds.”

What a bunch of hogwash
, Elaine thought.

She waited anxiously as Dr. Steiner looked back at the file. He flipped through a couple of pages, scratched his beard, thinking, then closed it. “That will be all, Ms. Brogan. Thank you for your time.”

Elaine rose from the chair uncertainly. The interview had seemed too short. She wondered if she had blown it with her morality pitch. “So...did I pass?”