Page 92 of Hacking the Holidays
I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. “I think I need to help you pack.”
“Yeah?” Her smile returned, brighter this time.
“Definitely,” I said with an enthusiastic nod.
Zara’s phone rang through the car’s speakers, cutting off the Christmas music mid-chorus. An incoming call flashed on the dashboard screen:
FBI SEATTLE FIELD OFFICE.
Her smile disappeared.
“What could they want?” Zara asked.
“You should pick it up,” I said, trying not to appear slightly concerned. “Unless you think it’ll be confidential.”
“I’m no longer an employee. Confidentiality doesn’t matter anymore.” She tapped the screen to accept the call. “Hi—this is Zara.”
“Agent Mazini, this is Special Agent Derek Meadows from the FBI’s Office of Professional Responsibility.” The man was professional and direct. “I handle allegations of misconduct by FBI employees. We have reason to believe you’ve been colluding with a suspect in a recent investigation—Samuel Monroe—and that you have pertinent information regarding the case.”
Zara’s hand tightened on the steering wheel.
I stayed perfectly still, not even breathing too loud.
“I don’t understand—the charges against Mr. Monroe were dropped,” she said.
“New information has been brought to our attention, thanks to Agent Barbie Babbs’ plea agreement. We need you to come to the Seattle office on Monday morning to answer some questions.”
“Agent Meadows, I resigned from the FBI earlier today. I’m no longer an employee.”
“I was not made aware of that.” Papers rustled in thebackground, then he added, “Upon confirmation of your resignation, I’ll administratively close the internal disciplinary investigation.”
Relief flooded through me?—
“However,” Meadows continued, “please keep in mind that resigning from your position only affects the administrative disciplinary process. It does not stop a criminal investigation. If there’s evidence of criminal activity—collusion, obstruction of justice, conspiracy—the case can still be referred to the Department of Justice for criminal prosecution, regardless of your employment status.”
The relief evaporated instantly.
“I understand,” Zara said calmly, which was impressive, considering the seriousness of the man’s voice. “Thanks for the call.”
“Thank you for your time,” Agent Meadows said before disconnecting the call.
The Christmas song resumed, jarringly cheerful.
I stared at her. “Wow. So there’s a possibility this isn’t over yet.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Zara’s expression was unreadable. “The problem is, I have all the information Eleanor gave me about you and what you’ve been doing. The financial records, everything about Good Sam’s operation. If they put me on a witness stand and ask me direct questions …” She trailed off.
“You won’t be able to lie,” I finished.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t commit perjury.” She glanced at me. “Not even for you.”
“Of course not, and I would never ask you to jeopardize your future to protect me.” My mind raced through options, scenarios, and legal loopholes. Then it hit me. “What about spousal testimonial privilege?”
Zara’s head whipped toward me so fast I heard her neck crack.
Then the car swerved.
“Watch out!” I grabbed the dashboard. “Eyes on the road!”
