Twilight Starlight World Alight

SYNOPSIS:

The IRS Criminal Investigation Division sends Special Agent Grace Parker to investigate a suspected money laundering case in Silicon Valley, CA, after undercover operative Nathan Murphy goes missing. Kirk Parker, Grace’s brother and also an undercover agent, finds blood spatter in Murphy’s apartment.

Abby Stevens, a vibrant web designer at Google San Francisco, receives three mysterious and unsettling letters, delivered to her desk by Isaac Land, the dim-witted mailboy in her section. The letters refer to “secrets behind the memories” and are signed with the same initials as her ex-fiancé who had jilted her at the altar. She also gets a paper flier about preventing car break-ins from Ernie Robinson, a security guard at Google, who delivers it with the admonition to keep the flier close, just in case.

Abby decides not to tell her boyfriend David Harp, FBI Assistant Director of the West Coast division, about the letters since her relationship with him has stagnated. He had a disastrous marriage in his past and is not interested in marrying again. Although she loves him and he’s a good boyfriend, she thinks it’s time to end the relationship if he won’t propose. David hears about the letters via Abby’s friend Ellen’s husband Ian Anderson, director of counterterrorism at the FBI. David calls Abby and asks about the letters. She resists telling him, and they argue, and at the end she tells him good night and goodbye. Meanwhile, Grace tells David that she is coming to Silicon Valley undercover to investigate her case and asks to stay with David to avoid being detected. Abby considers herself to have broken up with David, and plans to take a tropical vacation. While she dreams of David being on the vacation with her, she wakes up to a fire in her apartment.

David, thinking the relationship with Abby had only hit a minor bump, rushes to her apartment when he hears of the fire from Sam Crawford, Detective Sgt. at the Berkeley PD. ATF agent Cole Evans explains to David that he believes the fire was arson but suggests keeping the arson aspect out of the public media. Abby’s BFF, neighbor in the same condominium and co-worker, software/hardware senior engineer Mia Barns encourages Abby to accept David’s offer of a place to stay so that she can get him to realize he should propose to her. As they exit David’s SUV in his garage, she stumbles and David catches her and they make steamy love right there in the garage.

David thinks their lovemaking proves that their relationship is still solid, while Abby regrets it since she is still intent on leaving him if he won’t consider marriage. Gwen Peterson (Grace’s undercover persona as a business/financial writer) appears and greets Abby, who thinks Gwen is David’s new girlfriend. She believes Gwen has been in David’s life for some time and wishes she had left him earlier. Meanwhile, Mia checks Abby’s mail for her at their condo’s mailroom and finds a package for Abby. The package has a foul odor so Mia and the apartment manager open it and find that it contains a severed human finger.

At David’s house, Abby is resting and still planning a vacation, when she receives a text from Mia about the finger. David hears about the incident from Sam, who with junior partner Det. Carter Halls come to interview Abby about it. The three letters, the fire and the fingertip are looking more and more like warnings, but Abby has no idea about what. During the interview with the detectives, Abby explains that the initials on the letters could be those of her ex, who she hasn’t had any contact with in five years.

Abby confronts David about his new girlfriend, but he assures Abby that Gwen is a friend (not yet revealing her as Grace’s undercover persona) but most certainly not a girlfriend, lover, etc. But Abby can’t be convinced to stay with him. Gwen asks Abby for a tour of Google SF, specifically to visit the accounting department for material for an article. In reality, this is a ploy to use Abby as bait to find out who has been threatening her or whether Abby might know some secret that the IRS doesn’t.

Ian informs David that the NSA has intercepted an email from Freedom Way, a dark website, to an unknown recipient regarding the purchase of weapons and explosives. He asks David, who is a cyber-genius, to help trace the origin of the message. Gwen, with David coming along in an undercover persona, visits Google SF. Abby takes them to the accounting department where they meet Camila Russell, chief CPA and the suspect in the money-laundering case. Abby recognizes a technician there as FBI agent Zoey DeBerry and begins to wonder whether Gwen herself is also a federal agent.

Zoey reports to Grace and David that Camila’s computer had been wiped clean, except for one hidden empty folder called “Murphy’s files.” They conclude that the missing Murphy left this as a clue that he has hidden some information somewhere, but his op was compromised and he had to go under the radar before being able to deliver it to Grace. In the office, Abby tells Mia she’d like to pick up some work files that she’d left in Mia’s safe when she’d been expecting to go on vacation. Mia drives them both home and Abby picks up her materials. Afterwards, Mia drives her to David’s house and both women decide to stay there overnight since it is already very late. Later that night, Dr. Val Wagner, assistant medical examiner and Mia and Abby’s friend and neighbor, is called to the scene of a car accident in which the passenger died, but on the way notices that Mia’s door is ajar. She checks and finds that Mia’s apartment has been ransacked and the safe pried open and emptied.

The FBI clears Abby’s ex of sending the three letters. ATF agent Evans reports that the arson of Abby’s apartment was accomplished with a small amount of C-4 and a timing device to light it. Sam and Det. Nick Montoya visit David’s house to interview Mia about the burglary. Meanwhile, an industrial container at a container yard in Berkeley explodes violently. The ATF finds that the explosion was caused by C-4 and TNT, with the same chemical signature as the C-4 as in the arson of Abby’s apartment.

Abby and Mia have moved to stay with Val, which created another argument between David and Abby. She still considers herself to have broken up with him but he wants to keep the relationship exactly as it was. Abby sneaks into her apartment, which is still cordoned off by the ATF, looking for whatever the arsonist might have been seeking. She hears footsteps and hides, and a gunman nearly finds her before being chased off by David, who had gone there to meet ATF agent Evans.

The driver who survived the car accident admits to having burglarized Mia’s apartment at the behest of unknown persons. They ordered him to get whatever was in Mia’s safe and ransack the rest of the apartment to make it look like a burglary. He and his girlfriend did so, but the safe was empty.

Abby discovers that Ernie Robinson had formerly been an FBI agent. Shortly thereafter, Ernie is found badly beaten and with fingers smashed, but still alive. He has a small patty of C-4 explosive in his pocket.

The severed finger turns out to be that of Sid Douglas, a confidential informant for the IRS, who had been working with Ernie Robinson and Murphy. David and Grace speculate that Murphy had saved evidence on both the money laundering and the C-4 cases in his files and that these cases may be linked. Abby returns to the office from her time off and ponders the incidents that have happened to her. She remembers the paper flier that Ernie had given her and discovers a string of binary numbers in very small print near the bottom. Converted to text, the binary numbers spell out “Murphy’s files.”

Abby sends text messages to Gwen and David asking if they know what Murphy’s files are, and receives a warning that it’s dangerous to try to find out. She texts Mia that she is going to go back to her apartment to look for the answers. As Abby is walking from her parking spot to her apartment, she is ambushed by a gunman who demands Murphy’s files. Gwen appears and announces herself as a federal agent, and engages in a gunfight with the man. Abby hides and calls David, who is waiting on the next level of the parking garage. He drives his SUV into the gunfight and draws the gunman’s fire, giving Gwen/Grace the opportunity to maneuver to fatally shoot the gunman. Abby admonishes David for risking his life, but in the ensuing exchange he states that he wants to keep his relationship with her as it has been. She realizes more strongly that he will never propose and tells him it is over. Grace reveals her true identity to Abby, and she and David explain what is known so far.

Ian explains to David that the NSA and FBI have found that the dark website Freedom Way has been buying weapons and explosives including C-4. David realizes that the money laundering case, the cargo container explosion, and Abby’s and Mia’s incidents are linked. Meanwhile, Abby realizes that she may unknowingly have Murphy’s files and wonders how the bad guys always knew when to attack her or Mia, which gives David and Grace a big clue. They send technical teams to Abby’s work area and her apartment and find surveillance devices that have been watching her, listening to her and intercepting her text messages and that the surveillance has all been going to Camila Russell’s computer. David learns that the C-4 in all the cases including the patty in Ernie’s pocket are chemically identical, and that the burglar of Mia’s apartment and the gunman who had been after Abby are connected.

David unexpectedly receives a call from his ex-wife, who announces that she is getting married soon. She wonders whether David might also ever feel ready to marry someone new. Meanwhile, Abby has a conversation with mailboy Isaac in which he says he hopes her apartment will soon be fixed up to how it was before the arson. Abby confides in Mia and asks for her help in carrying out a plan to confront Isaac. David traces an intercepted email containing an order for weapons and explosives from Freedom Way to have originated at a router at Google HQ. The FBI obtains surveillance video of the area served by that router and discovers that Camila Russell had sent the email. David receives information that Murphy had staged his injury or death in order to go under the radar, and is in fact alive.

Abby confronts Isaac, asking him why he knew her apartment fire was arson. He pulls a gun and kidnaps her. Meanwhile, the IRS has detained Camila and seized her computer, and David and Grace learn that the email from Freedom Way had in fact originated on Isaac’s computer. Mia calls David telling him that Abby is missing and that Mia had put a tracking device on Abby’s shoe. She tracks Abby across the Bay Bridge toward Oakland harbor while on the phone with David. Isaac takes Abby to an abandoned warehouse in Oakland, where he reveals himself as the leader of the terrorist group Freedom Way and again demands Murphy’s files from Abby.

The FBI, including David, SWAT team, and the Hostage Rescue Team led by Ian converge on the warehouse under cover of darkness, raid the warehouse and kill or arrest the terrorists, and David rescues Abby. As they are cleaning up, Abby hears a ringtone which David recognizes as the prelude to a timer triggering a bomb. He shouts for everyone to get out and leads Abby to safety. The warehouse erupts in a terrifying explosion. David proposes to Abby and she accepts. Abby reveals that she has hidden some photos of her and Mia that Murphy had taken and printed, and Grace peels open the thick photo paper to find ultrathin memory cards that contain Murphy’s files, which hold evidence of the money laundering and terrorist activities.

FIRST TEN PAGES:

PROLOGUE

Kirk Parker, a CPA and assistant manager in the accounting department of Google, was standing in front of his senior co-worker and good friend Nathan Murphy’s apartment unit. The company log said he should be on his vacation, but he’d failed to respond to Kirk’s numerous calls and texts for two days. In addition, his social media updates had stopped at the same time. It had all been so unlike him, and it had freaked Kirk out. Hence this visit.

He had rung the doorbell and knocked several times. But no one seemed to be at home. Not even his girlfriend.

A lump in his throat, he took out a spare key that Murphy had given to him in case of emergency.

He opened the door cautiously.

A strong odor hit his face at once.

A distinctive stench of cleaning agent.

His eyebrows drawing together, hand on the doorknob, he stood motionless.

Murphy had been the manager of Google HQ’s Mail and Logistics Department, a.k.a. the Mailroom. Even though he was good at what he did at work, he was, in fact, a seasoned special agent of the Internal Revenue Service Criminal Investigation Unit (IRS-CI) under the command of Kirk’s sister, Special Agent Grace Parker. He was exceptional in forensic accounting and cyber-networking. His most recent true job was being Google’s clandestine eyes and ears to discover any wrongdoing and corruption. Those cases often resulted in charges of tax fraud against individuals exploiting the company as their cover.

Corporations like Google often looked for help from federal agencies’ special programs to keep their business clean, particularly from cases of money laundering, bribery, or extortion.

Murphy usually created a small strike team to gather preliminary and significant evidence within the company when something suspicious occurred. If it was substantial, they could signal Grace to investigate it deeper.

A couple of months ago, he’d found some discrepancies in the books in the computer and traced them back to Camila Russell, who was Kirk’s boss and the manager of the accounting department of Google. He’d formed a strike team and jumped into the investigation, suspecting possible money laundering and subsequent tax evasion. The news had stunned Kirk, but he needed to act naturally in front of his boss while Murphy went to work around her.

Recently, Murphy had implied his mission had gone south. Although it was all on a need-to-know basis, Kirk had been informed that the operation had somehow been compromised, starting with Murphy’s computers being breached followed by a series of threatening messages. Murphy had confided that he’d even been followed and almost shot in a dark alley on the way home by an unknown person. Unknown, but obviously Camila or her accomplice.

Like him, Kirk’s real job was an IRS-CI liaison messenger between the agency and Google, and he had discerned what Murphy would do next. He’d learned the golden rules of covert missions from the forty-some-year-old Murphy himself: First, secure physical evidence in any way possible. Second, let a firsthand witness go off the grid so that he or she could survive to testify.

As he’d expected, Murphy had said he would take some time off right away. It meant he’d gone under the radar as a witness, and other members of the strike team would secure the evidence.

No matter what, though, Murphy shouldn’t have missed their routine communication. That was the only way that he’d know Murphy was alive and on the road. Had his supposedly secure phone also been hacked? Something wasn’t right. What if he’d confronted their enemy before he’d gone underground? Those white-collar criminals had no hesitation to kill. They were the same as gangs, like the mob that Eliot Ness had faced. Had they already…? Because this chemical smell was…?

He shook his head to discard his worst-case scenario.

“Murphy? I’m gonna let myself in,” he declared and entered the room.

He proceeded to the living room while breathing in the bleachy smell.

“Murphy?” he called out again. No answer. A terrible feeling was bubbling up in him.

Before he had run, Murphy must’ve left the evidence somewhere, but Kirk hadn’t discovered it yet, and the rest of the strike team was observing radio silence. He was sure they were avoiding any contact to save the remnant of their wrecked operation.

Breathing in the reek in the middle of Murphy’s apartment, Kirk couldn’t stop sensing a gruesome picture. The smell of bleach often implied someone had cleaned up a crime scene.

He started looking around inside to find a sign of foul play.

His unit was clean. Maybe too clean for Murphy.

When he stepped into the bathroom, the acrid scent of chemical became so strong that it made him nauseous. Then he discovered a few tiny specks on the bathroom floor and in the tub.

The hair on his nape stood up.

He hurriedly took a set of Phenolphthalein swabs and anti-human serum out of his pocket and swiped the apparent bloodstains with them. The tip of each swab changed color to pink, telling him the stains were from blood, and a quick serum test had proven it to be human blood.

His heart thumping, stomach churning, he made a call to his sister via his newly issued secure phone. Special Agent Parker was supposed to be awaiting his report, concerned about Murphy possibly going MIA. Even if he’d had to get lost under urgent circumstances, he would usually leave some trace or encrypted message for Grace so she could pick up where he’d left the investigation. But in this case, he hadn’t done so.

“So what I do now? This is the first time something like this has happened to him,” he asked after he conveyed his initial finding to her. “I probably shouldn’t notify the local cops, should I?”

“No, Kirk,” she calmly instructed. “Let me contact the FBI to take care of it quietly, ’cause it’s either a kidnap or homicide case. We definitely don’t want to make it big local news.”

“Okay.” His voice came out jumpy.

“Relax,” she said softly. “We’ll find him.”

“Or his body,” he muttered. “If they have professional assassins, we may not find any part of him.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Kirk, let’s concentrate on finding him and his missing evidence. He must’ve left something for us, right?”

“Like where?”

“Look, I’m sure he couldn’t leave anything someplace obvious to the hackers, like on computers or cloud storage or even send it electronically. I’ve got to work my ass off to find whatever he left,” she said.

“Whoever is doing the money laundering is friggin’ damn more advanced in electronic systems than us and knows we’re at their heels. So, Grace, you can’t deal with it within Google at this point?”

“No,” she answered.

“How are you going to do it then?”

“Simple. Working it outside Google. Somewhere secure, but we need to be physically close so we can actually investigate and interrogate people in person covertly when needed.”

“So you’re gonna go undercover again?”

“Correct.”

“Staying at your friend’s?”

“Yup.”

He breathed out long.

“Hey, I’m gonna be flying into SFO from DC on the next flight, so hold the fort,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Then she added before she hung up, “Kirk, watch your six seriously, okay?”

CHAPTER 1

Google Office, San Francisco, CA

Google San Fran wasn’t anywhere near the size of the HQ Googleplex, with about a tenth of the employee numbers, but the smaller feeling was refreshing. With her BFF Mia Barns by her side, Abby Stevens had no problem moving from the Mountain View HQ to the SF campus to manage a brand-new design team.

“Hey, Ms. Abby Stevens,” Ike Land, a mail delivery boy at Google SF, appeared at her cubicle with his distinctive slow talk. He was pushing a cart full of letters, packages, and magazines.

Hot out of community college, he was young and cute and looked like a member of some boy band, with brown hair and hazel eyes. She vaguely remembered she’d seen a picture of him in the company newsletter. It had said he was in his new-hire probationary period.

“Huh.” Nestling her cup of coffee in her hands, she looked up at the boy over the partition panel. He was flapping a white envelope at her. “I wasn’t expecting any letters.”

“But you got one. Looks like it’s from an admirer.”

“A what?” She thought of David, her boyfriend of two years.

He was a dashing guy at six feet and at least five inches, with brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Every time they went to the beach, she was duly privileged to enjoy watching him in swimwear. So were a couple of hundred other women on the beach. Dammit.

He used to be a special agent in cybersecurity and the top of the FBI West Coast Cyber Division. He was the best-looking nerd—okay, the best-looking anything—she’d ever met. Last year, he’d been promoted to Assistant Director of the West Coast Divisions. He’d climbed up the ladder in the FBI uncommonly fast. He was at the apex of his life. When her asshole ex had dumped her five years ago, she never would have believed someone like David was going to be part of her future.

However, the reality was a bit more complicated. Frankly, she was confused and lost in the relationship. It might be because she’d reached a turning point, although she hadn’t decided what to do…

Anyway, David wouldn’t send her a paper letter. He’d always communicated with her electronically, either by sending her email or text or giving her a jingle if it was urgent.

“SWAK on the flap of the envelope, Ms. Stevens. Isn’t it an old way to seal a love letter? Sealed with a kiss?” he said in a sluggish tone, passing the white envelope to her and snickering. “I learned it from a list of bygone styles of writing a letter.”

“Bygone, huh?” She shook her head. “How old are you if I may ask?”

“Twenty-one.”

Sheesh, he was just a boy. “SWAK might also mean Swiss Army Knife.”

“Noooo….” He grimaced. “Who’d print that on an envelope?”

“I’m joking, Ike.” She groaned.

“Why’s it a joke?” He looked puzzled.

“Never mind. Thanks anyway,” she said, rolling her eyes mentally and waving her fingers at him.

“Okay. See you tomorrow then, Ms. Stevens.”

“See ya, Ike.”

But she knew it wouldn’t happen, because she didn’t usually get paper letters or magazines. She read most of them electronically. Not many people sent letters to her either. Even Christmas cards from her parents or aunties in her hometown in Colorado were e-cards.

In terms of the Mail and Logistics Department, she liked the HQ campus better since she knew the manager and staff well.

She especially liked Nathan “Murph” Murphy, the manager of Google HQ’s Mailroom. She’d remembered when he’d worked as a deliveryman. Murph had often stopped at her and Mia’s cubicles and chatted with them on his route. He was also an excellent photographer at the company picnic. He would usually take photos for the company, including of her and Mia, and print them. Yeah, he was an old-fashioned paper photo kinda guy, but they loved it.

She looked down at the letter in her hand. It was a plain white envelope with a pretty hibiscus stamp, and it clearly read, Attn: Abby Stevens above Google’s address in type. The postmark on the front was faded and unreadable, with no sender’s name or address. She held it up, trying to look through the inside under the light. She couldn’t see anything. It must be a security envelope.

She scoured through her desk drawer to find her paper knife. She hadn’t used it in years. “Aha.”

“Let’s see...” She incised the envelope carefully, trying not to cut too deep, or she might cut the letter inside.

It was like opening a treasure trove unearthed from an archeological site.

She pulled a piece of fancy letter paper out of the envelope and unfolded it.

Her eyes glued to the letter, she froze.

Dearest Abb,

How have you been? Hope this letter finds you well.

I miss you. Maybe we can get together sometime.

Do you know a secret behind the memories?

R.S.

“Who the hell wrote such a letter?” she mumbled, but she could guess who might’ve done it.

R.S. must be Ryan Stewart, her ex-fiancé. His signature had always been just initials.

Or someone who knew her past could’ve played a prank on her. But who? And why?

First of all, no one around her now had any knowledge of him except for her family and close friends. However, since it was the social media era, nobody had any actual privacy.

I miss you. Ooh, that was creepy. Maybe we can get together sometime. Nope, not gonna happen.

Then the last line in the letter. Do you know a secret behind the memories?

What the hell did it mean by a secret behind the memories? What secret? What memories? The memory of their disastrous relationship? The memory that she’d wanted to rub out? Was it a stupid example of failed rhetoric? Yup, he hadn’t even been able to write a small grocery list correctly.

Last time she’d checked on Facebook three years ago, he’d lived in Oregon. But who knew where he lived now? It could be on Mars.

She wished Mia wasn’t on vacation enjoying time in her sweet hometown, San Diego, surfing like hell. If she was here, Abby could’ve complained and ranted at her about the douchebag who’d had the nerve to send her this spooky letter.

She decided to ignore it and take it home, not discarding it at work. Even shredding it in the office seemed too embarrassing.

It was weird how sometimes, out of the blue, old wounds throbbed.

She sat there, staring off into space until someone called her name.

She blinked and came eye to eye with Ernest Robinson, one of the security guards. He’d known her and had also moved from the Googleplex to San Francisco around the same time she had. She’d heard he used to work in law enforcement. It meant he could take care of things professionally in case of an emergency.

He was distributing the fliers in his hand to each person in the cubicles.

“Hey Abb, from the security department.”

“Thanks, Ernie. A real paper flier, huh? Kinda unusual for a tech firm, no?” She dropped her eyes to the flier. It was about how to avoid car break-ins.

“Old-fashioned, right? But you guys get so damn used to digital messaging and ignore too many frigging emails, so we had to become a little creative to get your attention. You see, many people who parked at the curb on the streets had their car broken into. I know you’re careful and never park on the streets unless necessary.”

“Um… Mia and I often park on the streets in Berkeley, so we need to be careful, too.”

“Ah, right, you moved to Berkeley. Well, it’s probably safer there than here, but better safe than sorry ass.”

Abby giggled. “Yup.”

Then she spotted his left hand, which was entirely covered with a white bandage, resembling a smaller, flatter version of a boxing glove. It had been under the stack of the fliers, so she hadn’t noticed earlier. “Hey Ernie, what happened to your hand? You okay?”

He snickered and said in a self-mocking tone, “I slipped while descending my apartment stairs and cut my hand on a glass shard when my ass hit the ground.”

“Ouch. Needed some stitches, then.”

“Yup, and whiskey to wash down the pain and embarrassment. Abb, I couldn’t believe it when I saw myself in the mirror and found a huge bruise on my derrière.”

She burst into laughter. Chuckling with her, he added slowly to make sure she’d get it, “Take my advice, Abby. Look down to use the steps. You might experience something surprising. Keep this flier close, just in case.”

“Good point. Thanks, Ernie.” She waved at him. He was moving on to next cubicle. He placed one on Mia’s desk, too.

**

Abby and Mia’s condo stood in the Claremont District, an area of geologically elevated terrain. Plus, their units were on higher floors, so the view from her room defied description. It was spectacular in the daytime, giving her a sweeping view over Berkeley, Emeryville, Oakland, and the Bay. At night, it was breathtaking. The evening view of the East Bay was out of this world. She could see the cities lit up all over the Bay, with the Bay Bridge illuminated along the skyline of San Francisco and the reflections of the skyscrapers on the water. She could gaze at the vista forever. Even when Google had offered her a gorgeous high-rise condo unit within walking distance of the office, she didn’t discard her dream of living in Berkeley. She loved the feeling of the town. In addition to her new friends living near her, people were friendly, and the area had many things to do, like arts, music, good eats, good drinks, local small shops, and beautiful parks. Simply strolling the town made her feel relaxed.

The drawback was commuting. Too many cars were packed on the roads, highways, and bridges over the Bay during rush hour. Yup, a commuter’s nightmare. Although Google SF was not too far away in distance, it wasn’t easy getting from her home to the office. But she could tolerate the hitch to live in her favorite town.

However, this evening was different. It didn’t matter where she was coming home to. The letter had been heavy on her mind. When she’d arrived at her condo, she was so tired of thinking of it that she didn’t even chat with the security personnel. She awkwardly smiled, squeezing herself into one elevator closing its doors. She was an emotional wreck.