Things are getting interesting for our favorite couple as they try to figure out what's going on with Beau's parents. Where will the story take us next? Read on to find out.

If you have time to review, LaChelle would appreciate it.

February 27th was a dark, gloomy day and Martin Pixler shivered as he stared out at the damp morning. The weather matched his mood...dreary and depressing. He glanced at the IRS notice he'd received Friday morning before crumpling it up in his hand and tossing it into a nearby trash can. With his wife's scheming, which had almost driven their son away, the stress of keeping his company afloat, and then finding out that the FBI and SEC might be looking into that Vacchio case again, he was a man on the edge of disaster. An IRS field audit was the last thing he needed at this point in his life.

There were certain 'irregularities' in his company's books...he already knew that. He'd slipped Pete, the long time head of Pixler's accounting department, a few extra dollars from time to time to ignore them, but it seemed he'd been found out somehow. All of that work...and all of that money...had been for nothing. Now the IRS was breathing down his neck.

He shook his head again, wondering what had made the feds so eager to check out his finances. His taxes were always paid in full and on time, and he never played those dangerous games with the corporate tax codes like some other businessmen he knew. Pete had shrugged it off as no big deal...just a routine matter in the wake of Harold Maxwell's untimely death, but Martin wasn't so sure. What was in Harold's effects that had linked the man to Pixler's?

Sighing softly, he contemplated the disastrous dinner Saturday night at Rigoletto's, when Agent Aubrey and his daughter-in-law's friend, Jessica, had joined them at his wife's insistence. No matter what Denise thought about her blatant...and lame...attempts to influence the agent's investigation, Martin still worried about his business being dragged into the hellish fiasco that had been engineered by Harold Maxwell and his friends.

All Martin wanted was to keep his business up and running. The Pig Out Palace restaurant chain had been his pride and joy for years, built from the ground up using his grandfather's cherished barbecue recipes. Martin's father had given him a good education and he, in turn, had applied his own excellent business acumen to grow the restaurant chain into a regional favorite, hoping to pass it on to the supposedly capable hands of his son after he finished playing football.

Unfortunately, Martin had married a vain, silly woman, whose self worth was determined by the number of diamond rings she owned. No matter how much he had reassured her that he loved her just the way she was, Denise had always felt the need to prove herself to the snooty society bunch. She had put herself in embarrassing situations many times when she'd tried to publicly show up Melinda Henne-Maxwell, all because Melinda had had the nerve to marry the man Denise had wanted all those years earlier.

Even back in college, Denise could never understand that Harold Maxwell was not interested in her other than for an occasional tryst. She had been a clingy, jealous young woman who had wanted to leave her rural roots behind and, as a result, she had tried way too hard to fit into the upper crust of society. He'd come from middle class roots himself and was comfortable with who he was, which was probably why he fit in more with the Maxwells and Hennes of Washington society.

When Harold became engaged to Melinda during their senior year of college, Denise had refused to let go of her ambitions. Instead of moving on to someone else, she came up with crazy schemes to break up the two of them. Harold Maxwell had been an ass, but he did love his fiancee, even though he wasn't always faithful to her, for reasons that were nobody else's business. Harold had also respected Melinda's advice and counsel over the years, trusting her more than anyone else until his death six weeks ago.

Martin had always been in love with Denise, and it'd seemed that after several awkward moments, including being publicly confronted by Melinda herself, she'd given up on pursuing Harold. Once she'd come to her senses, she'd been willing to give Martin a chance and eventually they had married. They'd had their ups and downs, of course, but they'd also had several good years. However, his wife's obsession with finding a place in high society had only become stronger as she saw how her rival Melinda effortlessly held court, while she had to fight to get her foot in the door. So, in an effort to satisfy his high maintenance spouse, he'd overextended himself and his business holdings, and had been in danger of losing the company altogether.

It had seemed like a stroke of luck when Harold had mentioned that he'd wanted to diversify. It was the proverbial match made in Heaven. Harold had money he wanted to spend, and Martin badly needed a loan. The sale of shares to make that loan look like an honest business transaction should've been no big deal…Harold had even helped by letting Martin open a franchise in his company cafeteria.

Being desperate at the time, it wasn't until several months later that Martin had realized that he'd been paid much more money than the stock had been worth. It wasn't like Harold to play fast and loose with his cash, so what was the deal? Why had his friend been so anxious to help, and been so willing to pay for the privilege to boot?

After thinking things through, Martin had finally figured it out. Much to his dismay, it appeared to be a classic money laundering set up. He didn't know if Harold had been involved from the get go or if he'd merely needed a place to dump money to cover his ass, but the profits arising from whatever illicit foreign deal Harold had been involved in were going into Pixler's barbecue business. It would appear to be a simple business transaction to outsiders, and none of the Feds would be the wiser about the amount of money changing hands.

Martin had tried to push it out of his mind over the years, telling himself that while it might be money laundering, it could also be a way for Harold to save money on his taxes. Maxwell had too many accountants and lawyers working for him to do something that stupid with his family legacy. Their old friend Craig Stephenson was a greedy bastard, but Maxco's CFO was also smart enough to not involve Maxco in any iIlegal activities, or Harold would have kicked him out on his ass. No, wherever the money came from, it had to be legitimate. It must've been okay.

But deep down, Martin knew it wasn't okay. The Vacchio case had terrified him, even though, according to Craig, it had nothing to do with their set up. Nonetheless, he was grateful when his son had married Daisy. Beau would have a life of his own, away from the company, and Martin could then find a way to forget about what had happened. After Vacchio's killer died in that shootout with those agents, however, Martin had made the painful choice to try to push his son away from DC, even to the CFL where he would be safe with his family. He hated hurting Daisy, but there was no other option.

Then Harold died of a sudden stroke while arguing with Gerald, that spoiled bastard who was, unfortunately, also his godson. Luckily, the nasty little son of a bitch was now in federal prison where he couldn't hurt anyone else. He'd been upset to lose his friend, and Martin still couldn't shake the feeling that his old friend's death would somehow bring their house of cards tumbling down around their ears. He'd pushed his son harder to take the CFL's offer, and finally Beau had agreed, much to Martin's and Denise's relief. In the worst case scenario, Daisy would be angry enough to leave their son, but she and Lance would be safe either way.

After a month or so without any news, he'd begun to relax. It was business as usual at Maxco and at the Pig-out Palaces. Harold and Melinda's younger son, Leonard, had taken over the company and more than once had stood his ground with Craig, who frankly needed someone with a backbone to put him in his place.

When Beau announced that he was staying in DC, Denise had lost her cool, pushing their their son too far and forcing him to choose between his parents and his wife. Martin, on the other hand, figured things were safe and that it was time to bring his son into the business since there were no more worries...surely the dirty little secrets had died with Harold.

But in the last few weeks, as he'd gone over the company books with his son, answering Beau's pointed questions...the bad feeling came back as he'd realized just how much trouble he was in. Who knew Beau had actually learned something in business school?, Martin thought to himself in disgust. He's a football player, by God. He's not that smart, is he? Where does he get off telling me that my bookkeeping sucks?

Anyway, there they were...the huge sums of money taken into and then sent out of his organization jumped out at him again. More cash had been pumped into the restaurants by Harold's other companies...cash for new stores and for improvements...cash he had no business accepting….and, if he wasn't careful, those transactions would bite him on the ass big time.

'It was just an audit...because it was a company Maxco had invested in, it was natural for the IRS to scrutinize the estate and it's holdings to ensure nothing was sideways. Their tracks were covered and everything would be fine...right? Yeah, the feds were checking into the Vacchio case again, but it was just a formality, according to our source at the SEC. Nothing to worry about...'

Denise had panicked when they'd received the notice about the audit, creating stupid schemes to fix things, like trying to push an FBI agent to drop the case, or flirting with him while his girlfriend, their daughter-in-law's best friend, was sitting next to them at the table.. After she'd mentioned the calls she placed to get the investigation dropped, he scolded her for her rash actions. She finally calmed down, and it seemed he was able to get through to his wife. Things were getting back to normal.

He paused as he heard voices in the hallway. His secretary was doing her best to turn the visitors away, but there was no use putting things off any longer. Stepping to the doorway, he sighed. "Show them in, Sara…"

The two men flashed their badges as they approached the door. "Mr. Pixler...I'm Special Agent Matney with the IRS Criminal Investigation Division, and this is my associate, Agent Rush. As part of our inquiry into Maxco's corporate tax holdings, we're here to audit your company's books. Would you please have the manager of your accounting department join us?"

"Of course." Martin turned to his secretary, maintaining his composure. "Sara, can you call Pete and have him come here to assist these men?"

###########

It had seemed like an eternity, but, at last, Pixler's senior accounting manager had stepped out of the office and into the employee break room. Looking pale and sickly, the man had offered a feeble smile. "That IRS fella says he wants to talk to you now."

Trying to be calm as he rose from his seat, Martin nodded. "Thanks, Pete. So...what do you think? Did they buy it?"

"I don't know. You'll just have to talk to them yourself." Looking like he might vomit, Pete glanced down the hall toward his office. "I gotta go...I've got things to do…"

"Yeah, sure." Watching the man walk slowly away, Martin took a deep breath before returning to his office. Knocking on the doorframe, he cleared his throat. "Um...Agent Matney? You needed to see me?"

"Yes." The agent glanced at his associate, who was putting a laptop into a messenger bag. "Agent Rush is convinced that he has enough material to work with for now. We'll be in touch. Don't leave town."

"I understand." Biting his lip, Pixler tried to peer over the accountant's shoulder. "I don't suppose you could give me a hint about where we go from here…"

"I'm afraid not, as it depends on the auditors' conclusions, and we won't have that information for a few days." Wearing a poker face as he picked up his belongings, the IRS agent shrugged. "I'll call you as soon as I get the auditors' reports."

"Fine." Martin made an effort to hold himself together until the agents left his office. As soon as they were gone, he collapsed into his chair. "Oh, my God….what have I gotten myself into?"

#############

That night, Aubrey and Jessica were sitting down to dinner at 7:30, and after discussing the minutiae of their days, their latest case came up in conversation.

"So Mr. Pixler was audited today by the IRS, right?", Jessica asked.

"Yeah, Hunter told me they were there this morning. They were supposed to go to Maxco as well, but they decided at the last minute to scope out Pixler's books first to avoid raising anyone's suspicions." Aubrey chewed a shrimp from his plate. "Love this garlic white wine shrimp with the wheat pasta, Jess."

"You're welcome...it wasn't hard to do. Aubrey…" Jessica leaned forward to look into his eyes. "What happened with the audit?"

"Nothing...at least not right now." The agent sipped his wine. "Hunter said all he knew so far was they'd pulled several sets of records and talked to the company's senior accountant. While they couldn't discuss everything, Hunter was told that 'what they found out so far made for interesting reading'. Matney and Hunter, along with a couple of IRS auditors, are working late tonight to go through everything. I guess it's been given top priority over there."

"Good…" Jessica studied her plate, pushing a piece of shrimp around with her fork.

Aubrey paused as he noticed his girlfriend's silence. "Jessica...what's wrong?"

Jessica sighed softly before looking up at her boyfriend. "Daisy called me before you got home while I was cooking dinner. I guess she had to tell me something important...she said it couldn't wait."

"What happened? Is she all right? Did something happen to Lance or Beau?"

"No, nothing like that." She hesitated slightly. "I guess Martin was over there at their condo, freaking out when she got home. They talked in the den for a while and after her father-in-law left, Beau was pretty upset, too. He barely ate dinner and only played with Lance for a few minutes before he went back to the den and sat alone in the dark. She thought maybe they'd had some sort of argument, and she wondered what I thought..."

"That sounds odd…"

"Daisy also said that after we left the restaurant Saturday, Mr. Pixler scolded his wife for how she'd acted towards you. She responded with something to the effect of 'Well, somebody has to proactive so the family name doesn't go to shit.'" Jessica sipped her wine. "When Beau pushed to find out what they were talking about, they finally told him that the IRS had sent a notice that there would be a field audit during the following week..."

"If they did nothing wrong, I don't get Mrs. Pixler's actions." Aubrey's expression was grim. "But, she also made pointed comments about being careful who I pissed off and fished for info on the Vacchio case…someone is dirty, Jess and they've got someone on the inside at the SEC or the IRS. They have to...and now I'm sure Beau will get dragged into it somehow."

"Do you think this audit stuff is why they pushed him so hard to take the CFL offer?"

Aubrey nodded. "I've wondered about that myself the last several days and unless they both really hate Daisy, I think it makes sense. They want to get their son and his family out of the way to avoid any damage if uncomfortable things should come out."

Jessica nodded. "Daisy said that Beau has become withdrawn the last few days and is now not even engaging much with Lance. You know how much he loves that little boy, Aubrey. It's just weird...something is definitely not right."

"Sounds like a man with something on his mind. Maybe he's worried about his dad..."

"Could be, but Daisy also said that Denise invited us to lunch with her tomorrow at the River Bend Country Club." Jessica played with the wine glass stem as Aubrey whistled. "I told her I had to check with you since we already had plans. Do I go?"

Aubrey debated, and hoped he was making the right call. "Yeah, do it, Jess. I really hope her mother isn't going to do something stupid with you."

"I don't work for the FBI so I don't know what she can offer me, and I don't think she will flirt with me in front of her daughter-in-law." Jessica exhaled and was quiet for a moment. "Do you really think Denise might try to do something with me to push you away from the case?"

"I hope not, but just be careful, Jess. You're not an agent…"

"I know that, Aubrey, but with all that we've learned and after what happened at Rigoletto's, I'm willing to do what I have to do to help out." Jessica wiped a tear away. "When Daisy finds out that everyone worked on the case without telling her, she's going to be so angry. She'll think we don't trust her."

Aubrey exhaled, not envying his girlfriend's position. "Yeah, she will, Jess, but...Daisy has enough of a sense of right and wrong that she'll understand why you kept her in the dark. After she gets over the shock, if she's still hostile to you, then that's on her."

"I know…" Jessica collected herself and looked at her boyfriend. "So, I'm having lunch with Denise tomorrow..."

Aubrey hated what she was going to do but he also knew it was smart. "Yes, but you come see me right after you have lunch. I'll let Booth know what's up so he can let Dr. B know."

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

Almost eighteen hours later, Jessica raced into Aubrey's office, barely able to catch her breath. "She offered me a teaching job at Virginia Commonwealth University."

Aubrey, who had just finished chewing a bite of his Royal Diner brisket, stood up and took her hand. "Whoa...Denise offered you a job?"

Jessica shut the door and slid into one of the office chairs. "Well, not offered per se, but she said she had a friend at VCU who told her that there would be an opening starting this summer for a full time instructor to teach their forensic anthropology class and, of course, she automatically thought of me...over her daughter-in-law, who already has her doctorate, while I possess a Masters. That's bullshit."

"What did you say?"

"I was surprised, and so was Daisy. Not five minutes later, I got an email from the head of the science department at VCU requesting an interview, but Denise assured me it would just be a formality and I just have to accept the position."

"A job offer without an interview?" Aubrey was immediately suspicious. "That's...definitely odd. Did the email ask for at least a reference from Dr. B or Cam?"

"Nope, just that we have to do the interview for appearances sake, but then I can start immediately." Jessica linked her fingers. "Denise must have sensed my hesitation because she said that she could arrange a transfer for you to the Richmond FBI field office immediately."

"Oh, she threw me in the package, too. How nice." Aubrey nodded. "What happened next?"

"Well, I told her that I appreciated the mention, but that I was not interested at this time. She asked if it was because of you, and I said that yes, you were definitely a part of my decision, but mostly I wanted to remain in Dr. B's intern program at the lab and complete my doctorate program at American University."

"So, what did she say to that? Those are all very sound reasons…" Aubrey said. 'Wow, Jessica gave more consideration to me than I did when I got the LA offer…I was such an ass...'

"She was irritated, like I had spoiled something big for her. She then very testily told me not to be silly and that if being with you was so important, I should either commute back here on the weekends or make you transfer to the Richmond field office. When I mentioned it could involve a demotion for you, she said that if you loved me enough, you would make the sacrifice."

"Oh wow…" Aubrey sat back in his chair. "The guilt card, too? That's low…"

"I knew right then and there she was trying to get the both of us out of town and off the Vacchio case. Being as polite as I could, I said I was not interested in the job and that you were happy where you were."

Aubrey bit into his final piece of brisket and licked his fingers. "Was that it?"

"No. Instead of at least being gracious, Denise started to push harder until Daisy jumped in and told her to leave me alone. After that, we spent most of our meal with her being snide to both of us." Jessica played with her nails. "I finally got fed up and told her I had to go back to work, but before I could walk away, she said I should reconsider the offer or else you and I would regret it."

The SAC stopped what he was doing. "She said that to you...those exact words?"

Jessica nodded. "A chill went up my spine and I couldn't leave fast enough. Daisy walked me out, apologizing profusely for her mother in law's behavior. She said that Denise has been so sweet and helpful to her the last couple of days that she thinks something is up with her again."

"Yeah, she's trying to get us to drop the Vacchio case...and when we didn't give her want she wanted, she's got nasty." Aubrey finished his brisket and swallowed. "She, or other friends, know some important people in the government. Genny got a phone call an hour ago from Senator Thoms' office asking her to meet him for lunch. Booth got a call from someone high up in the Secret Service letting him know of a SAC position opening up at the Philadelphia Field Office that would be perfect for him."

"What did they do?"

"Genny and I talked about it and she's going to go to the meeting tomorrow but will be recording the lunch conversation to be safe. Booth told them no because he was happy where he was."

"This is getting serious, Superman. Somebody...or some people want us to stop looking into the Vacchio case."

"Yes it is, and I have a feelings it's just going to escalate." Aubrey wiped his hands. "Okay, I'm driving you back to the lab."

Jessica growled. "Aubrey…"

"Don't argue with me, Jessica. Until this case is resolved, I'm driving you to and from work." Aubrey grabbed his coat. "Come on...I'm sure Dr. B needs you back soon."

Jessica stood up and closed her coat. "Fine." she replied testily. "Whatever…"

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

The next day ushered in the beginning of March. Cam drove into the Jeffersonian parking garage at 7:30 and pulled into her designated spot. However, she couldn't get out of the car as her nerves took over.

"I've been gone six months...but with a couple of exceptions, the lab is still running smoothly, so I won't have any surprises. I was promised by Angela that there would be no party. I just want business as usual...come on, Camille, get out of the car and be the boss…"

The pathologist grabbed her briefcase from the front seat and was about to get out of the car when her phone buzzed. Taking it, she saw a text from Arastoo, Michelle, and the boys with the picture of them from Christmas Day in the pajamas.

"GOOD LUCK, MOM!"

"You guys...", Cam chuckled before texting back, 'Thank you.'

Walking in through the employee entrance, she began to slow down, preparing herself for a barrage of employees with streamers and party items strewn all over the lab. Arriving at the entrance, she pulled her new badge out of her purse and scanned her way in. However, when she walked in, she saw a small group of employees working but no decorations.

Nodding, she walked into her suite and saw a solitary sign on the computer stating 'WELCOME BACK, CAM/DR. SAROYAN!' with signatures from Brennan, Angela, Hodgins, the interns, and other employees.

"Nervous?"

Startled, Cam turned around to see Angela standing in the doorway. "Oh, you scared me. Yes, a little. Honestly, I was expecting to see streamers, balloons, and festivities galore all over the place. I'm glad you restrained yourself."

"Of course, Cam. No way would I make your first day back from your sabbatical totally chaotic." Angela walked over and hugged her friend, smiling to herself behind her friend's back.

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

Almost seven hours later, Martin Pixler and his lawyer were sitting in the large waiting room adjacent to the office of Special Agent Matney. Tugging at his collar, the restaurateur turned to his companion. "I thought he said two o'clock…"

"Relax. It's a classic move, making a guy nervous by having him wait for the meeting to begin. We're fine. If he doesn't call for us in a few minutes, I'll check with the receptionist." Grant Sewell, esq., fidgeted with the lock on his briefcase. "Besides, you said this was just to go over what they'd found in the audit the other day. No big deal, right?"

"Yeah, but when the guy called to make the appointment, he suggested I bring you, okay? And it wasn't really a genial conversation, either. Basically, I was ordered to show up, or he'd send a pair of agents out to the office to bring me in...in handcuffs." Hearing a door open, Martin pointed. "There he is…"

The agent nodded politely as he ushered the men into his office. "Have a seat, gentlemen. Would you like some coffee? Water?"

"No, thanks." Clearing his throat nervously, Martin leaned forward in his chair. "So, I'm sure everything looked as it should when you went over the numbers. We're probably just going to go over a few details like the guy did at the last audit, correct?"

Matney shook his head as he pulled a file folder from the desk's upper drawer. "Actually...I'm afraid we have a problem here."

"A problem?" Martin fiddled with his tie bar as he squirmed in his chair. "I'm sure it's nothing major...nothing we can't clear it up easily."

Opening the folder, the agent held up several sheets of paper. "Mr. Pixler, my forensic accountants say you've been a very naughty boy. Your tax returns are a mess, and I'm sure my associate over at the SEC is going to be quite interested in this little stock market scam you've got going…"

"What scam?", Martin sputtered. "I've sold shares of my company legally!"

"For a highly inflated price." Matney pulled out a sheet filled with numbers. "See, it says here that a few years ago, shares in your restaurant were going for about ten dollars apiece, which isn't to bad for a small, regional, restaurant chain. The problem is that Mr. Maxwell bought a huge number of shares for about two hundred dollars apiece, jacking up the value of the shares in the open market. That constitutes fraud. In addition, given the number of shares he owned when he died, he held approximately 87% of the stock, making him the majority stockholder of your company. However, according to your records, he only owned 37.5% of Pixler's. That's quite a discrepancy."

"So?", Martin asked, perplexed. "Harold said he trusted me to run the company as long as the money was coming in. I talked to Melinda after he died and she said the same thing."

"I see." Agent Matney ran his fingers along the edge of the paper. "My thought is that he used you as a figurehead, so you could take the heat when this scheme was exposed."

"There was no scheme! It was just a loan...a harmless business deal between old friends.", Martin pleaded. "I sold those shares at a higher price than they were worth as a way to provide collateral for my loan. I don't know why he never pressed me to take over the company...maybe because he knew I would've fought him tooth and nail over that. Like I told you, he never expressed much interest in how Pixler's was doing as long as he got a decent return. Maxco Enterprises kept him constantly occupied."

"He was a silent partner, but he still kept pouring large sums of money into your restaurants, and if he got any profit or dividends, he didn't show them in his own company's books. So the problem becomes…where did the money come from to buy those shares, and where is all the cash that he made in profits?"

"Harold was a philanthropist as well as a businessman. He and Melinda gave to several charities and were on several boards of trustees…between the Maxwell estate as well as Melinda's share of the Henne estate, they were worth almost a billion dollars together. Just check their tax returns!"

Pressing his fingertips together, Matney smirked. "Oh, believe me, we went over Mr. Maxwell's tax returns with a fine toothed comb. We know how busy he and his wife were, but that's not the point. After studying the numbers, it's fairly easy to follow the money trail. He didn't make a lot of effort to cover his tracks, probably assuming you'd be the one to go down when the scam was discovered. Here's what happened...the profits went into some dummy corporation...an offshore slush fund. The cash comes in to Maxwell's businesses from subsidiaries in Europe, is pumped into your stores in a classic money laundering scheme, and then the profits that Maxwell earned from your company go out to banks in the Caymans, where it's well hidden and protected from federal income taxes."

"But I had no idea…", Pixler began in a panicked tone. "This is just crazy. I don't know about any money laundering scheme. I just sell barbecue…"

"Just a minute, Martin. Remember, you have the right to remain silent." Mr. Sewell scoffed as he glanced through the file. "All of this shit is circumstantial, Matney. You'd never get a conviction on this flimsy evidence…"

Shrugging, the agent sat back in his chair and eyed his visitors coolly. "Let me tell you how things work around here, Mr. Sewell. The guy that runs the IRS Criminal Investigations Division for the east coast...my boss's boss's boss...he hates this kind of fucking around with a company's books. He'll want me to take this case to court, no matter what, but, of course, you're right. We really don't have enough hard evidence, and we might not get a conviction, but we'd sure as hell drag out the trial for a couple of years, just to prove our point...you know, to make an example of Martin as a warning to others who want to get involved in shady business deals."

Panicked, Martin was pale as a ghost. "I didn't know Harold or Craig were involved in any crazy schemes in Europe…I mean, why would they do that, anyway? And why drag me into it?"

"So you know his CFO, Craig Stephenson?" Matney asked, curious to see Martin's reaction..

Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Pixler shrugged. "Yes, we went to college together. He's a smarmy asshole who has always bragged that he came from Canada, but I learned to ignore that bullshit after awhile. He was always plotting how to make money quickly…the easier, the better. Harold thought the jackass could walk on water, so he gave him that cushy job."

The agent ignored Martin's comments and continued. "Mr. Pixler, your business model is based on the idea that you sell barbecue sandwiches and sides of potato salad and coleslaw to good ol' boys in southern towns, because you're a good ol' boy yourself. How do you think those customers in hills and backwoods of Virginia and West Virginia will feel when they hear that the guy who runs the place has had millions of dollars being pumped illegally through his company?"

Matney saw that the truth was beginning to dawn on Pixler. "They'd resent it, right? All that cash flowing through the business, and maybe they're living week to week, paycheck to paycheck, buying themselves a barbecue sandwich as a treat for Sunday dinner." He chuckled sarcastically. "In that case, it won't make any difference if we get a guilty verdict or not. The results are still the same once the news of this scandal gets out. You lose your business and go broke in the process, and we won't have to worry about the outcome of the trial."

The two men sitting across from him sat in stunned silence for a few seconds before Sewell dared to speak. "So, um...can you offer my client any sort of deal? Maybe he tells you what he knows about the set up, and you help him out of a jam?"

"Perhaps." Rising from his chair, Agent Matney walked over to look out his office window. "I mean, Martin did break the law, but there seems to be a lack of premeditation. Unfortunately, I think he chose to trust the wrong people. To be honest, I think someone has been taking advantage of that trust, and they've used his apparent ignorance against him."

Satisfied that he had their attention, the agent continued. "We really don't want to waste our time with small potatoes like him, okay? We want the names of the big guys...the folks in charge of the scheme, so if you could give us the names, we'd probably be able to work things out in your favor...offer you immunity from prosecution or a suspended sentence in exchange for your cooperation..."

Sweating profusely, Martin groaned, "I don't know who's involved for certain besides Harold and Craig...I have my suspicions, but nothing concrete…"

"You may know more than you think." Matney nodded before standing up. "Why don't you two talk it over for a few minutes? I need to go make a phone call."

Stepping out into the hallway, Agent Matney called Hunter. "I think we're gonna get the information you need, buddy. Pixler is ready to squeal."

"Good. Let me know as soon as possible so I can get the warrant." Ending the call, Hunter sent a quick email to Aubrey and Booth before returning to his work. "I can't wait to go see those clowns at Maxco…"

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

March 2nd was a chilly day when the large black van slowly pulled into the parking lot of Maxco Enterprises. After the car was parked, five men dressed in black suits disembarked and strode with a purpose towards the front door of the main building.

Pausing at the front door, Hunter Geren took a large envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket. "Okay, fellas...we're gonna serve this warrant and see what we can shake loose from these slimeballs. We're looking for any documents tying Homco to CEP or tying CEP to Pixler's. Even if you're not sure it applies, make a note of it. However, stay within the scope of the warrant because we get one chance at this and if he mess it up, we're screwed. Got it?"

The other men wore stony expressions as they nodded. Seeing that they understood, Hunter pulled the door open and they entered the luxuriously appointed lobby. Walking up to the receptionist on duty, he handed her a set of papers.

"I'm Special Agent Hunter Geren with the Securities and Exchange Commission. This is my associate, Agent Mendez. Agent Matney is with Internal Revenue, Agent Nguyen is with the FBI's Cyber division, Agent Nelson is with the FBI's Financial Division, and Agent Shalberg is with Homeland Security. We need to see Mr. Leonard Maxwell and Mr. Craig Stevenson. We have some questions we need to ask them."

The receptionist took the papers and glanced at them. "What is all this...stuff?"

Hunter paused as he pointed at a paragraph on the front page. "This is a search warrant that allows us to search your desktop computers, laptop computers, printers, and all external storage devices. Please call Mr. Maxwell, Mr. Stephenson, and your IT manager and have them meet us here in the lobby within the next ten minutes."

"Mr. Maxwell isn't available. He's out of the country on business." The woman regarded the men in front of her with disdain. "Mr. Stephenson is in conference and cannot be disturbed. Perhaps you should've called ahead for an appointment. Now, if you'll excuse me…" She turned back to her computer. "I have work to do…"

"Listen here, Ms...Dahlgren…", Hunter read from her nameplate before holding up his cell phone so she could see it. "All I have to do is call this number for backup, and within thirty minutes this place will be swarming with law enforcement officers from at least three different federal agencies. I'm sure that would be a great lead in for the five o'clock news, right? 'Local Company Gets Raided by Feds'? So, you have a choice...either get your boss out here on the double, or we spend the afternoon with two hundred of my closest friends looking through every goddamn nook and cranny of this office, and you'll spend a lot of time talking to several federal agents trying to explain why you shouldn't be charged with obstruction of justice."

Looking up at the tall blond man glaring down at her, Ms. Dahlgren nodded timidly. "I'll see what I can do…" She picked up the phone and dialed an extension. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but there are some federal agents here to see you, and they also want to see Ms. Gaffney...yes, I'll tell them."

Hanging up the phone, she pointed to a double door. "If you'll go down that hall, you'll see a big conference room on the left. Mr. Stephenson will meet you there…"

"Actually, he needs to get his ass out here right now." Hunter narrowed his eyes at the woman. "Five minutes, Ms. Dahlgren. Make sure he knows that's all the time he has left before all Hell breaks loose in this fancy lobby of his. I promise...we'll pull it apart board by board if we have to..."

After quickly making another call and explaining how dire the situation was, the receptionist smiled weakly at the men. "He'll be right out."

"That's more like it. Thank you." After taking back the warrant, Hunter turned to his companions. "He may have trashed everything we needed to look at, but we don't have the same rules as some of the other agencies...we can't go crashing through doors and shit like that unless we're dealing with drug cartels."

Agent Matney shrugged. "I've done some door kicking in my time, and I'm not sure it accomplishes all that much." Giving Hunter a sympathetic grin, he continued. "Besides, I can imagine you're not too excited about barging into an office after getting shot several months ago…"

"Yeah, there is that." Slightly embarrassed, Hunter looked toward the hallway. "But they only have a minute or two left, and then we have to…" Exhaling slowly, he pointed at the two people coming through the double doors. "There they are…"

Craig Stephenson was sputtering angrily as he approached the agents. "What is the meaning of this? I'll have you know that I was in a very important meeting…"

Glancing at the attractive, albeit slightly disheveled woman next to Stephenson, Agent Shalberg raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess...she was in the same meeting…"

"Ms. Gaffney is our technology director…" Stephenson gestured toward the men in front of him. "Tell them, Marilyn…"

As she ran her hand through her messy hair, Ms. Gaffney tried to smooth her shirt, only to realize it wasn't buttoned correctly. "Um...yes. We were discussing upgrades to our network. Speed is very important in the world of online trading…"

"And in quickies…", Jose muttered under his breath.

Clearing his throat, Hunter handed the documents to Stephenson. "This warrant gives us the right to search your computer equipment for possible links between Homco, Pixler's Pig Out Palaces, and/or CEP Enterprises in Croatia. We also need to talk to anyone involved in those transactions...stock traders, portfolio managers…"

"Now you wait just a goddamned minute.", Stephenson fumed. "You can't search our computer equipment...not while our people are using it for their work. You'll need to come back this weekend…"

"Not happening. We're taking care of this today." Towering over the CFO, Hunter crossed his arms over his chest, glowering at the man before turning to his associates. "Mendez...call the US Marshals...tell them we need to have an arrest made…a naturalized US citizen who wants a one way ticket back to Canada..."

"Okay...okay." Stephenson held up his hands in surrender. "Help yourself...Ms. Gaffney, will you please assist these gentlemen?"

"Sure, Craig. No problem." Arching her eyebrow at Hunter, she gestured toward the corridor. "Shall we?"

###########

Hunter nervously paced the hallway outside Maxco's IT Department, waiting for Agent Nguyen's word on what had been found. Swearing under his breath, he clenched his jaw. It has to be here...the proof we need must be on some external hard drive, sitting in a drawer somewhere. They didn't seem all that surprised about us being here, did they? Did someone tip them off?

Pausing to sip his water, he glanced towards another office when something caught his eye. It was a garish poster, completely out of place in the elegant decor of the Maxco offices. "Hmm…", he mumbled to himself. "Join the company's curling club? Seriously, Stephenson and Maxwell were still into that after all these years...and they sponsor a team? Does anybody really play that game around here… and where? That's wild…"

Chuckling in spite of the seriousness of the situation, he shook his head. "Just wait 'til I tell Genny...she'll hee haw. She loves watching that stupid shit on ESPN and she's counting down the days until the Winter Olympics next year."

His ears perked up as he heard a door open. Turning, he saw a frustrated Nguyen puff out a loud sigh as he walked away from the office. Rolling his eyes, he exhaled slowly."You're shitting me! Nothing?"

"We've got zilch. Ms. Gaffney said they had some sort of widespread computer virus that corrupted all of their data, but I don't buy it. I think it's some sort of fancy-smancy encryption device. I think they backed up their records on the cloud somewhere and gave us this shit, hoping we'd give up and go home."

Hunter was livid. "Son of a bitch! I was really hoping we could catch them with their pants down, but they beat us to the punch. Now what do we do?"

The men paused their conversation as Ms. Gaffney walked up to them with a smile. "I hope we were able to help you with what you were looking for, Agent Nguyen."

The young man suppressed a grin. "Yes, you were most helpful, Ms. Gaffney. It's awful that a nasty computer virus somehow made it into your server and breached your cybersecurity protocols. Too bad you hadn't installed the virus protection software in a timely manner. That's a massive mistake on the part of the IT department, you know? It might cost millions to replace all the hardware….it's a big headache, too."

She gave them an insincere smile. "Yes, it is, but we're working overtime to find out the culprit and make our security better. Maxco Enterprises won't be caught by surprise again."

Both men heard the message beneath the words and smiled before Hunter added a zinger of his own. "I'm glad to hear that, and so will the public and the stockholders when we let the media know the reason we were here today."

Ms. Gaffney's jaw dropped at the thought. "I don't think that's necessary, gentlemen…"

"Oh, we insist.", Agent Nguyen said. "We can't have the public thinking that Maxco Enterprises is compromising their secure data to play fast and loose with the tax code. That would really piss off the stockholders. Take care, and thanks for being so helpful today."

Unable to say anything, Ms. Gaffney stiffly walked away and the two agents chuckled before Agent Nguyen continued their conversation. "I was able to use the search warrant and audit parameters to allow us to print hard copies and I also downloaded the info onto this flash drive, too. The good news is that I know just the computer forensics expert we should send that stuff to. If anyone can get to the bottom of this shit, it's her."

Surprised, Hunter relaxed. "Really? Wow, I'd appreciate that. Does is it someone who works for the FBI? How soon can she get it taken care of?"

Laughing softly, the agent winked at his companion. "Nope...it's Angela Montenegro at the Jeffersonian. She's the best. I only hope one day I can be as good as she is."

"She's that good? Great!" Hunter looked at his watch. "It's after 5:00, and she's probably gone home for the day. Let's go secure all this stuff, and first thing tomorrow morning, I'll run by the Jeffersonian and see her. Genny has mentioned her mad computer skills. I'm kind of curious to see what she says. Thanks for the suggestion."

"Hey, no problem." The young man smiled shyly. "Um...put in a good word for me with her, too, if you don't mind. I'd love to work with her someday. I'd learn so much...it's be way cool.."

"I can't promise anything, but I might be able to work it into the conversation somehow. Anyway, I appreciate all your hard work today. It makes my job so much easier when I have guys like you to help out. Let's round up the rest of the team and head for home."

Taking boxes of papers and equipment out to the SUV and piling them into the trunk, the agents climbed back into the vehicle and left Maxco Enterprises, unsure of their success. Glancing at the rearview mirror, Hunter shrugged as he shook his head. "I don't know about you guys, but I could use a beer…"

Seeing everyone's nod of agreement, he smiled. "Don't worry, fellas. Even if we didn't get everything we needed today, we've made them very nervous. It was a long shot, but maybe we got lucky, alright? If nothing else, we had a day away from the office."

"I really wanted to nail that son of a bitch!", Mendez muttered as he stared out of the passenger window. "I want to get him for what happened to Louie."

"I do, too, but we'll have to be patient. This isn't over yet." Hunter grimaced slightly as he stared at the road ahead of him. "In fact, I have a feeling that things are just beginning to get interesting."