Perception Deception

a tale composed by the Rabid Raccoons

Disclaimer: Please refer to Chapter One

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Chapter 2: I Thought Charlie Was the Smart One

A smile played at Robin's mouth as she watched Don. Using the hunt-and-peck method of keyboarding with astonishing speed, he plunked away at his laptop's keyboard, so engrossed in his task that he did not notice her watching from the other side of the kitchen table. His brows were knit together and there was a scowl creasing his forehead. His jaw worked furiously as he masticated the ever-present gum.

She quietly closed the file folder in front of her and took a sip from a glass of lemonade before she spoke. "I'm sure Charlie would be willing to help you," she finally said.

Don's fingers paused over the keys, and he looked up with slightly glassy eyes. "What?"

She laughed at his consternation, shaking her head a little. "Don't misunderstand me. It's actually quite enjoyable having you spend the evening with me, even if we've both been working. It's just that, whatever you're trying to find, Charlie could probably find it faster. Right?"

To her surprise, his expression darkened. "I'll remind you, Counselor, that I have 15 years' experience as an agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation," he replied archly. "I may be capable of conducting an investigation without my baby brother's help!"

Robin lifted an eyebrow. "Of course you are," she agreed. "I hope you know that I would never imply otherwise." She sighed dramatically and looked down at the file folder. "I just thought that if you called Charlie for help, it might free up a little time for...other activities, shall we say?" She raised her eyes and winked. "Since you're here, and all."

Don's expression eased into a grin. "Ms. Brooks. Are you suggesting fraternization?"

Her own expression was coy. "That depends. I have court early in the morning, and I need my rest. This could be a limited time offer."

Don's grin expanded into a smile. "Let me save this document," he implored, looking back at the computer.

Robin stood and took her empty glass to the sink. "What have you been working on all night, anyway?" she questioned.

Don uttered a small sigh as he walked up behind her, his hands encircling her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder. "Just a hunch," he admitted. "That's one reason I don't want to bother Charlie with it." He turned his head and left a trail of kisses up the arch of her neck. "That, and he's a tad preoccupied at the moment."

Robin murmured something unintelligible, closed her eyes and brought a hand up to caress the side of his face. "I forgot. It's finals week, isn't it?"

Don nodded on her shoulder. "I always try to give him a break during finals -- even when he's not completely distracted by planning a wedding at the same time."

Robin laughed and rotated in his arms until she faced him. They exchanged a long and passionate kiss that left them both breathless. "Still, your brother would help you," Robin said when she could speak again. She grasped one of his hands with one of hers and started to lead the way to the bedroom. "You know he would."

Don squeezed her hand as they paused to turn off the light in the kitchen. "I know," he admitted. "I just want to figure out if this is even worth his time." He snorted lightly. "A.D. Wright doesn't think so; he had me hand it over to the Secret Service."

Robin stopped in the hallway and looked at him, curious despite herself. "The SS?"

He nodded. "They're responsible for investigating certain cyber crimes, like electronic funds transfer fraud. One of our lab techs caught something on a computer taken from the crime scene of that murder last week -- the high school girl?"

She nodded. "Such a shame. Turned out to be a jealous boyfriend, didn't it?"

"Right," Don affirmed. "The money fraud had nothing to do with it, which is why Wright told me to pass it on."

Robin frowned. "So? Why not let the Secret Service run with it? Don't you have enough to do?"

Don sighed again, using his free hand to massage his neck. "I've just got a hinky feeling about this. And there was such a small amount of money involved, the SS agent who came to pick up the file as good as told me it was going straight to the back-burner."

Robin looked confused. "If they have the file, what are you working with?"

Don reddened, and looked briefly at his feet. "I may have made a copy," he finally admitted, lifting his gaze to hers again. "On top of that, when I checked the system for similar complaints, I found a bunch of them; all small businesses, small thefts. Not that you heard that."

She rolled her eyes and started tugging him toward the bedroom again. "Absolutely not," she agreed. "Enough work for one night. Take your pants off."

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Don watched, amused, as Charlie took a large bite out of his pastrami and swiss. The fine lines around his brother's eyes gave testament to the fact that he was tired --not an unexpected state, at the end of another school year. Plus, what a year it had been! Beginning with the clearance issue, followed by Don's stabbing, and Charlie's own head injury sustained during Amita's terrifying kidnapping...Don got tired himself, just thinking about it all. Yet Charlie's entire demeanor was infused by a quiet joy, and peace. Whereas history would have him too tired to eat and probably holed up in the garage as soon as finals were over, this year he was consuming food as if he could actually taste it, and talking to travel agents about the virtues of Tahiti vs. Jamaica, honeymoon-wise.

He finally let go of the sandwich long enough to take a gulp of his soda. His brow furrowed as he looked at Don over the rim of the glass, and he took a deep breath when he replaced it on the table. "What?" he asked.

Don smirked, picking up a pickle spear and shaking it in Charlie's direction. "Nothing, dude. It's just nice to see you so -- happy." He pried open his own turkey sandwich and added the pickle spear to those already inside. "I'd ask what you're going to do this summer, but smart money already knows the answer."

Charlie blushed slightly, watching Don try to shove half of his sandwich into his mouth at one time. "I'm just taking a few days before I really get into some research. I'd like to finish up the cognitive emergence work. I need to look at everything I have; decide if it's enough for a book, or if I should just settle for a series of papers." Still chewing on a mouthful of sandwich, Don just raised his eyebrows and waggled his fingers at Charlie. Surprisingly enough, given all the years of misunderstanding between them, Charlie understood that right away. "I want to get married sooner, rather than later -- hell, I'd fly to Vegas with Amita tomorrow if I could talk her into it -- but she wants to take her time."

Don swallowed. "She's not having second thoughts?"

Charlie's curls shook with conviction. "No. Oh, no, it's not that. It's not even so much the girl thing; you know, fulfilling childhood wedding fantasies. She just wants to make sure her parents can attend. I'm pushing for holiday break in December, but she says if we wait until June, we can have a longer honeymoon." Charlie sighed and full wattage wounded puppy eyes accosted Don. "Another whole year!"

Don smiled. "Come on, Buddy; it won't be that bad. It's not as if she doesn't already as good as live at the Craftsman! Once school starts again, the two of you will be so busy the time will go by before you know it."

Charlie smiled. "I'm counting on that. At least, I think I managed to convince Amita of it. Even if we wait a year, we should do the lion's share of the planning this summer, while we have the time."

"Makes sense to me," Don agreed. "Has she talked to her parents, yet?"

Charlie started to look a little nervous. "Actually, she already had plans to meet them in London for a short reunion soon. Sanjay and Tapti will be attending a financial caucus there. Since Amita wouldn't be teaching, they talked her into meeting them for a week." He cleared his throat, taking another quick gulp of soda. "I was invited as well, but she wants some time alone with them to break the news. I hope they're happy about it."

He was starting to look slightly ill, and Don smiled reassuringly. "How could they not be?" he asked jovially, then tried to change the subject quickly. "Amita will be home in time for Dad's 4th of July barbecue, won't she?"

Charlie smiled and rolled his eyes a little. "Oh, yeah; not that it matters. Dad decided he couldn't wait that long for an engagement party barbecue." He shook his head and grinned sheepishly. "He's calling it a 'beginning of summer bash', and inviting everyone. I'm surprised you haven't heard about it yet – I know he's talked to Colby and David. He's going all-out. Amita and I are trying to convince him not to hire a band." Don laughed, and Charlie picked up his sandwich again. "So how're things going with you? Any cases you'd like me to look at?"

Don waited until the sandwich was firmly in Charlie's mouth before he answered. "Actually," he said, "I've been using one of your basic search algorithms on a little project of my own. As part of another case, we found evidence of a small electronic theft. When I checked the system, I found more of them, and when I applied your algorithm, I found more yet."

Charlie looked interested. "I could design something more specific..." he began, but Don interrupted him.

"No, Charlie. I'm doing this more or less on my own. As it is, I'm depending on applications you designed in the first place." He smiled so that Charlie knew he wasn't being rejected. "Just keep showing up at the office and taking me to lunch," he suggested. "The best way for you to help me is to be my brother for a while, without either of us having an ulterior motive."

When Charlie reddened furiously, Don at first assumed that he was embarrassed by Don's admittedly uncharacteristic sentiment. He started to feel a little discomfort himself. Then Charlie dropped his sandwich on his plate, and a gob of mustard shot out the side and landed on the back of Don's hand. "Shit," Charlie protested. "I was going to ask you to be my best man, but now I feel like I shouldn't bring it up."

Don let loose a burst of laughter so loud that other diners turned to look at them. He absently wiped at the back of his hand with a napkin. "You little weasel," he replied fondly. "I dare you -- just try to get out of it now!"

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The man wasn't expecting anyone, and was a little surprised when his houseman notified him over the intercom that his accountant was making an unannounced visit. He wasn't particularly busy, but he sighed loudly to indicate his displeasure anyway. "Send him ahead," he finally said. He was making a show of organizing the papers on top of his desk when Davis entered.

"I apologize for interrupting," said the CPA a tad nervously. "I think there's something you should know."

The man regarded Davis with cool disdain. "One usually arranges an appointment for that sort of thing."

Davis shifted from one foot to the other. "Again, I apologize," he repeated. "I hope you know that I would never just...appear uninvited...like this, unless I felt it was absolutely necessary."

The man waved an impatient hand. "Well? What is it?"

Davis launched right into it. "The IT man was performing some routine maintenance this morning. Someone has been looking into the financial affairs at ABC industries, specifically the dummy electronic theft we set up as an indicator. In addition, whoever it is has found some of the other businesses you've hit. There's no sign that a connection has been made to you, but there is activity."

The man stiffened in his leather chair. "I beg your pardon?" Davis knew that his employer had heard him, and didn't answer until his boss further demanded, "Who? Can this activity be traced?"

Davis smiled. "Our IT man is very good; this is why I insisted that you spend the money for top personnel. He was able to grab an IP address. Our sources at the justice department tracked down the computer."

The man looked impressed. "Be sure that everyone involved receives a handsome cash bonus," he instructed, "yourself included, of course. What asinine fool has his nose in my business now?"

The smile became a sneer. "Don Eppes, sir."

Complete silence greeted his announcement. Eventually, the man stood behind his giant oak desk. "The F.B.I?"

Davis shook his head. "I can't be sure at this time, but I don't think so. The IP address is for Eppes' personal computer, and most of the activity is taking place during the evenings. Off-hours, as it were."

The man swore, picked up a crystal paperweight and squeezed the weight so hard Davis began to wonder if it would shatter. "Get our contact in the justice department to find out for sure whether this is an official inquiry. Even if if's not – especially if it's not -- get Mace on it right away," he ordered, referring to his head of security. "Find out what Eppes is up to. I want listening devices, a GPS on his vehicle, everything." His voice was rising in affronted anger. "Everything, do you hear me?" He placed his hands on his hips. "What about that 'genius' brother of his? Is he in the middle of this as well?"

Davis shrugged. "There is no evidence of that at this time," he answered.

The man made a sudden decision. "You know what?" he asked. "I don't really give a shit. I don't trust that little asshole after what he did to me two years ago. Tell Teddy to monitor them both."

Davis smiled. "As you wish, sir."

He stepped out of the room and J. Everett Tuttle sank into the seat behind his desk, frowning. At length, he reached for his cell phone, hit speed dial, and as soon as it was answered, spoke.

"We have a problem."

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End, Chapter 2