Page 21 of Bad Situation

Eli fills the screen—tall and domineering, wearing black cargo pants, combat boots with a black tee under a bulletproof vest. Besides the gun strapped to his waist, he’s holding a rifle while standing amidst others dressed just like him and he’s focused on something from behind his aviators.

The next picture is Eli walking out of a building surrounded by woods, holding a handcuffed man by the arm who looks worse for wear, and directing him to a police car.

When I scroll further, my breath catches. Eli, dressed in a black suit and crisp white dress shirt with a blue tie the color of a perfect dusky evening, is in court, sitting on the stand testifying. His dark hair is perfectly smoothed besides one pesky curl that doesn’t want to cooperate. It’s kissing his forehead, unruly like the middle child who’s different and not like the others.

Sort of like me.

Scrolling further, the story to support the pictures unravels.

For two years, Special Agent Elijah Pettit with the Federal Bureau of Investigation went deep undercover for the second time in his career. Acting the part of a recruit in the MacLachlan crime family, he obtained critical information that built one of the largest RICO cases our country has seen in decades. Racketeering, money laundering, embezzlement, fraud, drug trafficking, murder, and murder-for-hire are just some of the charges brought against the crime boss, Ronald MacLachlan, and his son, Weston MacLachlan, as well as many others inside the organization.

Pettit brings a special skill set to the Bureau. With a degree from Harvard University, he specializes in financial and white-collar crimes. His supervisors describe his sharp intellect combined with top-notch tactical skills as a lethal weapon while undercover. The files, key information obtained through hidden mics and cameras, and his eyewitness accounts of what he saw while acting as a recruit, were all critical to the open-and-shut case the United States Attorney was able to bring against many in the MacLachlan organization. Guilty verdicts and maximum sentences were delivered yesterday in court, making this case one of the largest and most impactful in RICO history.

I keep reading—more about the MacLachlan case Eli made such a difference on and prior cases where he was able to offer his business-savvy mindset with acute instincts. How victims who were wronged by the MacLachlan family coined Elijah Pettit a modern-day hero—brave and daring to insert himself in the situations he did. The article ends with a quote from a seventy-six-year-old victim who lost all of his investments through an embezzlement scheme by one of MacLachlan’s side companies, saying, “Pettit is not unlike the bravest of all God’s prophets, Elijah, who stood up in a time where idolatry swept our land. I’ll always be grateful for our modern-day Elijah, the brave man who made sure my wife and I were given back our hard-earned retirement.”

I scroll back up and memorize the pictures of Eli, the contemporary prophet who helped good overcome evil. But when I zoom in on the picture of him in his FBI entry gear, his big hand wrapped around his firearm, all I can think about is the night when those hands were on me. When he teased my skin, ground his body into mine, and when I felt his breath on my face.

My cell vibrates on the computer table at the library where I feel like a sneaky teenager searching porn in a place where my parents won’t find my search history. Except in this scenario, my parents are the federal government who are spying on me with court-approved wiretaps and Eli Pettit is my dirty little secret.

Eli was right. If I’m being tapped, I couldn’t exactly use my own devices to research the sexy-yet-confusing agent who takes down entire crime families in a single bound, but who can also make me warm in the place I’ve recently started referring to as the forbidden land, because it’s been that long.

When I look to my screen it’s Patrick and I pick up my phone and speak low so I don’t disrupt storytime. “Hey, sorry I’m not in yet. I worked from home this morning, but I’m on my way now.”

“I’ll fill you in more when you get here, but your idea that you called me about last night? You’re onto something and it looks like you were right. Those shell corps in your name were created on February nineteenth of this year. But the thing is, you were in San Francisco at a dinner meeting. I have the credit card statements to prove it, the reservation, the car service, and the hotel statement. You even got a fucking pedicure that afternoon and stopped at Ghirardelli Square and dropped a mint at Helpers Bazaar. Your credit card statements prove it and that’s all before getting the alibi from the clients you took to dinner at the exact same time the dummy corps were created.”

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, silently thanking the sexy FBI god. “Don’t judge my love for Helpers Bazaar. Do you think it’s enough?”

“You were halfway across the country in meetings at the exact time these shell companies were created. I’m giving this to Lehmans and will check to see if the PI needs anything more from us. But this is a good start. Better than good. We might be able to douse this fire faster than I thought.”

I look up and Donny is waiting … and not patiently. I try not to think about what this means, that I’ve been set up by someone within my own company. “Thanks, Patrick. I’ll be in the office soon.”

Sitting up, I close Safari and go to the settings to clear the search history, just in case. When I get up to leave, Donny falls in line next to me and I wave a conciliatory hand. “Sorry. I was in the mood for a story this morning. Dr. Seuss is my favorite. As far as you know, that’s all I was here for.”

Donny shakes his head and throws me a smirk that says he’s irked but he loves me too much to care. It’s a look I’ve gotten from him all my life. “I think I’ve seen it all, Jenny. A Montgomery having to stop at the library to use a computer. This’ll be over soon. Don’t you worry.”

“It better be.” We walk through the automatic doors and make our way to the Escalade. He opens the back-passenger door and offers me a hand as I step up in my heels.

For the first time in the last seventy-two hours, I feel like I’ve finally come up for air. As Donny pulls out of the parking lot, I reach into my bag for the prepaid cell and bring it to life. Selecting the only number programmed in it, I start a new text string.

Me: Thank you.

Not waiting for an answer, I toss it back into my bag and pray the elderly man in the article was right and our modern-day prophet can do for me what he did for him. I could use a miracle in the form of a dismissal right about now.

Chapter 6

Governmenty

Eli

“Dammit, Eli. It’s been too long since you’ve seen him. You cannot leave everything to me. It’s time to step up.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shut my eyes and drop my head. I’ve been avoiding her calls for days because it’s always the same shit. I didn’t ask to be transferred to Texas. What the hell am I supposed to do from across the country?

“What do you want? For me to quit my job? I was there for three days after the trial. I can’t jump on a plane at a moment’s notice.”

“My plate is full—I work, too. You’re not the only one with responsibilities, you know. I haven’t had the luxury of disappearing for years and ignoring my family—”

“Stop right there, Sarah. I’ve had about e-fucking-nough. Don’t talk to me like I’m shirking my fair share on purpose. If I could be there, I would.”

---