Page 4 of Cast in Shadow
“Fair enough.”
They walked through the quiet streets. A soft breeze blew around them, carrying with it the scents of the nearby river and the chemical smell from the paper plant. Aggie had become accustomed to it over the last couple of months and hardly noticed it anymore.
They didn’t talk much. Sam seemed distracted and preoccupied, and Aggie was glad when they arrived at her building.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, no worries.” He reached out and pulled her into a tight hug, then released her just as quickly. “Lock your doors, okay?”
“I always do,” she assured him.
“Good night, Aggie.”
“Good night, Sam.”
That was weird, Aggie thought as she climbed the steps to her second-floor apartment. Sam wasn’t an impulse hugger, which confirmed how vexed he was.
She locked the door, just as she’d promised, and moved to the window. She watched Sam’s dark silhouette in the glow of the streetlamps, moving at a brisk clip.
Aggie removed her jacket and hung it on the post by the door, then began lighting the soy candles she had placed strategically throughout the room to counterbalance the lingering aromas of stale smoke and mustiness that permeated the old building.
Next, she turned on the soothing white-noise machine and moved to the bathroom, where she started the shower. The ancient plumbing protested with a series of clangs and sputters, but soon, the small room began to fill with steam. Aggie stripped out of her clothes, popped out her contact lenses, and stepped under the hot water to wash away the layers of makeup and the stench of smoke and booze.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the scents of sweet basil and lemon, appreciating their calming and clarifying effects as she scrubbed, exfoliated, and shaved. She followed that up with an indulgent moisturizing cream. The nightly ritual centered her and formed the bridge between who she was and who she appeared to be.
Bartending the closing shift at McTavey’s Tavern wasn’t her life goal, but it was a great way to get up close and personal with the predominantly blue-collar community, most of whom were employed by the paper plant. The mill illegally dumped toxic waste into the river, and whatever they couldn’t flush into the water, they hauled—equally illegally—to a privately owned landfill. Those unlawful activities were what had brought her to Parryville.
Aggie donned a fresh pair of undies and a soft cotton tee, then raided her mini fridge. She selected a container of Greek yogurt, organic granola, and a banana, and then she warmed up some coconut milk and stirred in some ethically sourced vanilla-bean sugar.
The bed creaked under her slight weight as she settled onto it, sitting cross-legged with cheap dollar-store pillows stacked up behind her back. Snacks and water were within easy reach on the side table.
The decor wasn’t what she would have chosen for herself, but her current digs were more about projecting the proper image than personal preference. The second-floor apartment had come cheap, furnished, and suitable for a young, single woman traversing the country on a personal journey of self-discovery.
Laptop on thighs, black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, she fired up the machine, then waited for her custom, secure VPN to do its thing. Once that was up and running, protocols were initiated, connections were established, and files were unlocked.
Now, her real job began.
The first thing she did was kick off her lurkers—the custom searches she’d created to move quietly across the web without detection—targeting financial institutions, real estate agencies, watchdog agencies, and government sites. Her list of keywords and contacts had been steadily growing as she gathered more names. Every day, she added another piece to another puzzle. Who was involved. Who was getting paid. Who was getting paid off. The what, when, where, and how of dirty, greedy businesses.
She sat back and savored her yogurt while the software did its thing. This was her life. A cycle that was repeated over and over again. Another town. Another target. But essentially, her purpose was the same.
Aggie wasn’t naive enough to believe she could put an end to corporate greed and government corruption, but she knew she’d never be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least try to do something. She was a lot like her brother in that respect, though they had chosen vastly different paths to achieve their objectives.
The soft chime from her laptop brought her out of her thoughts and back to the present. A large transfer had just been initiated from one of the shady corporate accounts she was watching. Her fingers flew across the keys, siphoning off the information while simultaneously transposing a few numbers before the funds reached their final destination. That would buy her some time.
She redirected the funds through a scrubber, one that removed any identifying source info. There, the money was divided up into much smaller amounts and transferred in tiny batches to a series of bank accounts she’d opened across the country under a myriad of aliases. To anyone looking at the accounts, the revenue would appear as direct deposits from a legitimate business.
A feeling of immense satisfaction washed over her, knowing that money that would have been spent by some already-too-rich billionaire on something completely superfluous would instead find its way into homeless shelters, animal rescues, and soup kitchens, among other things.
She repeated the process twice more before the pull of sleep became too strong to ignore. When all was said and done, she’d transferred one-point-two million out of the hands of crooks and into the hands of those who needed it most. Not bad for a night’s work.
Aggie scrubbed the laptop, erasing all traces of her efforts. She took a few moments to perform a series of relaxing yoga poses, then slipped in between the sheets, followed by a period of mindful breathing to clear her mind before falling into a deep, contented sleep.
It seemed as if only a few minutes had passed before she heard it—the sound of someone breaking into her apartment. Instantly awake, Aggie slipped out of bed and grabbed the pepper spray and Taser she kept within reach, and then she melded quietly into the shadowy recesses of her closet. She quickly pulled on a pair of leggings and shoes.
Whoever they were, they weren’t particularly concerned with being sneaky. She clearly heard heavy footfalls on the ancient hardwood, as well as the telltale squeak of the bedroom door opening. The bedroom light came on, slipping beneath the closet door in a narrow strip.
“Where the fuck is she?” said a gruff male voice.
