Page 6 of Spiced Chais and Secret Spies
“Hi,Ollie.It’sgreat to see you again.It’sbeen a while.”
Inod. “Sincethe end of my sophomore year of high school,IthinkI’veonly seen you once or twice.”
Jacesmiles. “Thegood old days ofAPCalculus.Youwere two grades younger than me, yet you were still better at it thanIwas.Didn’tyou have to get special permission to be in that class as a sophomore?”
“Idid.NumbersandIhave always gotten along very well, so it wasn’t hard to get.Doyou live around here?”
“InCloakwood, actually.Butmy mom, my brother,Blake, and my sister,Charliestill live here inCipherSprings.”
Ididn’t knowBlakeat all.Therewas maybe another brother in there whoIalso didn’t know. “Ido seeCharliearound town now and then.”Shewas a year younger than me.Healso has twin brothers who were a year older than me.Ididn’t know any ofJace’ssiblings as well asIknew him, though.
Ialways looked up toJace.Andnot because he was two years older than me, or seemed so self-assured, orwas good at so many things.Well, okay, it was also those things.ButIlooked up to him because he was a genuinely good guy.Anatural leader.Someonewho was cool without ever acting like he knew he was cool.Itseemed effortless to him.Eventhough he was so much cooler than almost everyone else, he never made anyone feel less than him.Asthe guy who wasn’t cool,Isaw how rare that trait in high schoolers was.
Hewasn’t all muscles the way his brother,Ledger, was.Infact,Iremember him being kind of lanky.Peoplewere attracted to him because of his personality, but he wasn’t particularly good-looking in high school.Kindof average,Iguess.Now, though, he seems as cool on the outside as he was on the inside back in school.
“I’mhere becauseIcould use your help.”
Isit up straighter. “Likewith calculus?”I’monly kidding, and it does makeJacechuckle.Buthonestly,Ican’t think of anything other than calculus that he would come to me for help with.
“Kindof like calculus.Butmore like accounting.”
“Doyou need me to do your taxes?”
Thistime,Igot a better laugh out of him even thoughIhadn’t been kidding. “No, no taxes.Actually, it has to do with one of the clients ofPacioliandBlackwell.”
Mybrow crinkles in confusion.
“Iwork for aU.S. intelligence agency.”
Myeyes widen. “You’rea spy?”Isay, and suddenlyrealize thatI’vesaid it too loudly.Iglance around—there isn’t anyone sitting very close to us, and no one seems to react to whatIsaid, soIbreathe in relief.ThenIsay in a much quieter voice, “You’rea spy?”
“Intelligenceoperative.”
“Forwhich agency?”
“That’sclassified.”
“It’sasecretspy agency?”
Jaceflinches, but he nods.Ilean back in my chair.Iremember thinking in high school that the guy couldn’t get any cooler.Buthe went off and did.He’sa spy—intelligence operative—for a clandestine agency.Idon’t think it’s possible to get any cooler than that.
“Whatdo you need my help with?”
“Ineedyouto be the spy.”
Ijerk forward in my seat, leaning into the table, and hiss, “Youwant me to be a spy?”
Henods. “I’llneed to read you in on a few details to explain your mission, andIneed to know that you’ll keep it quiet.”
Inod, butI’mnot even sureIheard his words correctly.Myhead is swirling at the knowledge that he wants me to be a spy.
“Thereis a company that has a lot of their accounting done throughPacioliandBlackwell.Forwhat you need to know, the name of the company doesn’t matter, but they are using their company to launder money that they then are usingto fund a foreign terrorist group that is targeting theU.S.Wethink that one of the accountants at your firm is knowingly helping them to cook their books.”
Isuck in a breath, and my mind starts running through all the peopleIwork with, assessing whether or notIthink they could possibly be willing to do illegal accounting practices. “Doyou know who the accountant is?”
Jacenods. “Youwork with him—his name isTadRiggins.”
“Tad?Tad?Buthe’s not even that good at his job!”AlthoughIwould say that helping his client do illegal things to help a terrorist organization arguably makes him so much worse at it thanIthought.
