In Deep with the FBI Agent Read Online Free Page A

local private schools. From what they’d seen thus far, the schools hit were in urban and highly populated regions. All the schools had big donors and were in the top fifty of the national rankings. Hmm, it sounded familiar. Too familiar. Exactly like his alma mater.
    With that thought, the phone in his breast pocket felt like a weight, because it held the invitation to his ten-year reunion. He’d been lying a little when he’d told Jack and his other colleagues he didn’t want anything to do with Montgomery Prep. The truth was he’d liked high school most days. Academically, it had been challenging, but it had been the social life that had caused the most problems.
    His prickliest memories about high school revolved around Casey Cooper. She’d remained his friend-slash-nemesis from orientation through graduation. After their one day of friendship, Casey had entered ninth grade with a clear goal to be the most popular girl, and she’d nailed it with ease.
    There’d been no place for Sam in her plan, and she’d dropped him quickly. He’d let her, because tagging after her would have been pathetic, though his crush on her never faded. If she’d been stupid or mean, he could’ve lost his fervor, but, no, she had done well academically, and she was never outright mean to him. She simply ignored him.
    Somehow, Sam had always assumed that someday he’d summon the balls to do more than write her secret notes, which he’d left in her locker. He’d man up and ask her out and she’d fall madly in love with him and they’d live happily ever after.
    It hadn’t happened. It was never going to happen. Hell, he hadn’t spoken to Casey since their freshman year of college. Still, she was the one woman he held up as the ideal woman, whom he’d marry and with whom he would start a family.
    He was an idiot. An idiot who had a case to solve, and Casey Cooper could help.
    Shit.
    Sam picked up the phone, both excited and dreading the call. He didn’t have to talk to her . He could talk to someone else. After all, Casey worked in development. She had nothing to do with the school’s IT staff or anything remotely connected to the hackings. Still, she was his closest connection to the school, despite his parchment diploma from the place.
    He made the call and got a bubbly admin named Annie who made the assumption he was calling to respond to the ten-year reunion invitation. Her disappointment that he simply wanted to speak to Casey was a palpable dejection that came through the phone.
    “I’ll consider attending the reunion,” he finally said. “If work allows.”
    He tried to make it seem he might be off doing dangerous undercover assignments, when in reality, he’d be staring at a glowing computer screen, sitting on his ass most of the day. He loved his job, but sometimes wished he lived the stereotype that people assumed when they heard he was an FBI special agent, especially given the name of his division. Cyber Action team implied, well, action, and though they were always busy, always on the go, he’d never had to fire his weapon and likely wouldn’t ever have to. He did get to wear the cool navy FBI Windbreaker when they stormed a building in which they suspected someone was running a cyber fraud ring.
    It took an hour for Casey to call him back, during which he reorganized his pen cup on his desk, rooted out all the rogue paper clips in his top drawer, and discovered that the FBI firewall blocked BuzzFeed quizzes. He’d never learn the twenty-two things that made redheads different from the rest of the world.
    His phone finally rang with the caller ID from Montgomery Prep, and his arm sent his newly clean pen cup flying across the desk in his haste to grab it, though he did force himself to let it ring twice before picking up the receiver.
    “Hello?”
    “Is this Sam Cooper?” Her voice was smooth, professional, and yet his every nerve ending tightened as if he were about to run a sprint in an Olympic trial.