Her Secret Service (Jane Roe 1) by Jason Letts (sites to read books for free TXT) 📗

said as he clicked his mouse. “I’ve known some crazy women. You’re not one of them.”

Jane pursed her lips, wondering what else she was going to walk into before their conversation was through. She took the liberty of pushing his rolling chair out of the way so that she could get to the keyboard.

“Let’s see if you still feel that way in a few minutes. Now look at these three profiles. Elizabeth Dumpkins, Eddy Azarea, and Miles Coppera. All of them have produced remarks that Oliver Ip has quoted in his articles. Do you notice any similarities?”

Nathan glanced at her and then moved closer to the desk to begin looking over the pages.

“Not really. Just looks like three random people who happen to be news junkies to me,” he said. Jane smiled.

“Look at this,” she said, reaching over him to do some clicking and scrolling. “All three of these accounts were created on the very same day last March. Since that time, there are a dozen different instances where all of them shared Washington Post articles penned by Ip within minutes of one another.”

Nathan leaned back with a finger over his lip.

“So you’re saying…”

“Oliver Ip has been fabricating the comments that appear in his articles using fake social media accounts,” she said.

Nathan glanced over at her with a sly smile.

“OK, I’m convinced. But what’s the play here? You want me to call up the Post and get him thrown out the door? Leak it to another paper to discredit him? Let’s remember that we protect the president, not defend him by attacking his critics.”

He wasn’t quite seeing the bigger picture, though she couldn’t blame him for not getting it all. She saved the best for last.

“What if it turned out that critic was the one threatening the president’s life? If we’ve established that he’s created fake accounts on numerous occasions, what does that mean for the story he broke about the threat issued on Facebook right after the news came out about the divorce?” Jane asked, clicking over to the article Ip had written about the threat, which came up again in his interview with Alex.

Staring hard at the screen, Nathan judged it carefully.

“I remember talking to him about that and then speaking to the person who tipped him off, an ornery old woman who seemed to have full-fledged dementia. Other than being familiar with Ip, she couldn’t say anything about the threat other than that she sent Ip things she saw people post on Facebook all the time.”

When Nathan tilted his head down with his hand over his lip, Jane could tell he was getting it.

“I don’t think this person who actually issued the threat, Kevin Neilson, exists. There’s a reason we were never able to find him, the same reason Ip kept bringing up that threat over and over. And then all of a sudden we have someone abusing security clearances to make an attempt at the president’s life? I think Oliver Ip was attempting to make good on his threat,” Jane said.

She watched Nathan take a deep breath and lean back in his chair. The Secret Service was extremely adept at tracking down threats, and it irked everyone when one slipped by without resolution. It looked like they’d just filled in a big question mark.

“I take back what I said. You are crazy, but you’re brilliant too,” he said, getting up from his chair and grabbing his jacket.

Jane was a little mystified by his sudden movement.

“Where are you going? You’re not headed out to dinner, are you?” she gasped. Now that they knew this, they had to make sure Oliver Ip was apprehended right away. Nathan shook his head.

“Dinner can wait. The agents investigating the bombing need to be notified. I’ll get them a message tipping them off, but they’ll need the whole story in person. We’re going to visit the FBI.”

A bright smile came to Jane’s lips, as if she’d finally captured something she’d wanted for so long.

And with that, they rushed out the door.

12

FBI Headquarters

935 Pennsylvania Avenue NW

Washington, D.C.

When Jane and Nathan arrived at the hulking cement colossus that housed the FBI not far from the Smithsonian and the National Mall, her nerves had flared up as doubts crept in about whether her theories would really hold up to the scrutiny they were about to face. After all, investigating crimes was not her job and for all she knew there was a chance she could be wrong about something.

After being escorted to the second floor, they reached an office along the side with floor-to-ceiling windows and a lot of computer screens beside an expansive workspace full of agents at their desks carrying out law enforcement tasks for the federal government. The first person they met was a well-built man on the taller side with messy dark brown hair, and then Jane was surprised to discover the office belonged to a woman, an assistant deputy director with short strawberry-blonde hair and a scar on her forehead over her right eye.

“I’m Nathan Carr,” he said, shaking the other man’s hand.

“Travis Greer.”

“Thanks for meeting with us so quickly. I’m Jane Roe, logistics agent for the Presidential Protective Division,” she said, shaking the woman’s hand. In a black pantsuit with silver pinstripes, she made the FBI look glamorous even with the scars.

“I’m Nora Wexler, and I’m overseeing the investigation into the Air Force One bombing. It’s been a long time since we’ve had anyone from the Secret Service in here. You’ve been doing your jobs very well,” she said.

Jane smiled, at once proud of the compliment and determined to live up to it.

“That’s nice of you to say, although of course if we’d had our way this never would’ve happened in the first place.”

The twinkle in Nora’s eye gave Jane the impression that she loved her job.

“I understand the sentiment, but we couldn’t have things get too quiet around here for us. Fortunately we were able to zero in on a suspect we have in custody by