Roger Bailey sat at his desk and rubbed his head that was already as red as a lobster.

"You're doing that thing again, Boss", Special Agent Rodney Alston tried to suppress his burgeoning grin.

"What thing?"

"You know the thing. That little vein over your eyebrow that looks like it's about to burst."

Bailey sighed.

"It's probably the aneurism you're about to give me."

"We've been over this a thousand times and…"

"I know, I know. It's the only way."

"Then why are you so hellbent on fighting me on this one?"

"Because I have almost 30 years invested with the Bureau and it scares the living piss out of me to trust one of this department's most important cases in years to the blundering, incapable hands of that young woman."

Alston shook his head.

"She has a badge just like we do and she earned it. Besides, with her extensive background, can you name one other agent in this building more qualified?"

"No", he huffed. "And that's the scary part."

"I have faith in her, Boss."

"That makes one of us."

"Shall I call her in?"

He waved his hand, unable to actually speak the words. A few feet away in a nearby cubby hole, Haley James stood, cursing louder than she meant to as she stood and banged the side of her forehead against the corner of her open cabinet. It left a mark and she winced, hitting it again seconds later when she heard herself being summoned to the supervisor's office. Head aching, she tried to keep balance in her business casual high heel shoes as she nervously made her way to see Mr. Bailey. As far as she knew, she hadn't screwed up as of late so she couldn't imagine what he wanted to see her about. But it didn't take much to wind up the man who had been appointed her superior. He hated Haley with a passion and micromanaged her every move. Perhaps he had finally developed a long enough paper trail to get her transferred.

"You wanted to see me", she spoke in a small voice after knocking three times on the door.

Bailey just grunted.

"Agent James", Alston nodded. "Good to see you. Please have a seat."

"Thank you", she tried to smile. "Um, am I in any trouble?"

Alston laughed.

"That depends. Have you done anything to get in trouble for?"

Haley made a face.

"No."

"What happened to your head?"

"I banged it on my file cabinet. It's fine, happens all the time."

"I need to retire before this girl becomes the death of me", Bailey grumbled.

"Sir?"

Alston cleared his throat as he took over.

"Agent James, remember when I told you a few weeks ago to sit back and wait for your time to come?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, congratulations."

"Excuse me?"

"No more sitting tight. The wait is over, kid. Time to get off your ass, the time is here."

Haley sat straight up, trying to comprehend what was being told to her. It was a professional dream come true but one she could barely believe.

"A case? You mean I'm being assigned a real case?"

"You bet. You're our lead agent on this. It's very important. This will require temporary location and undercover infiltration. It is tedious and complicated and the hours will be longer than you ever imagined. Tell us truthfully, James. You up to it?"

There it was, her shot, the shot she had been begging and praying for and working so hard towards. Haley couldn't imagine what particular case they had in mind for her but she couldn't wait to find out.

"Yes, sir", she answered confidently. "Ready, willing and able. Now what do we have?"

"Very well", he looked over at Bailey. "Take a look at this file. Welcome to Federal case number 2908561-3A. Tell me, are you familiar at all with professional basketball?"

"Not really", Haley shrugged. "Why?"

The senior agent pointed to a photo of a man that looked vaguely familiar to Haley. He was tall and tanned skin with a thin but still muscular build. He had black hair and the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen.

"A little background info for you. NBA player, Nathan James Scott, son of former NBA star, Daniel Scott. Born in Tree Hill, North Carolina to Dan and his wife, the former Deborah Lee. Divided his time between North Carolina and Georgia, where his father played for the Atlanta Hawks. After the Old Man retired, Nathan skipped college and went right to the pros. Currently resides in Cape Cod, Massachusetts where he starts for the Boston Celtics. Here are some more photos."

Haley carefully studied the pictures. Immediately from television she recognized the famous face of Dan Scott. Another photograph depicted a beautiful blonde woman in her early forties identified as Deb Scott.

"Lucas and Brooke Davis Scott?"

There was a handsome blonde gentleman with a stunning, smiling brunette.

"That's the half brother and sister in law."

And finally was the picture of a thin girl with long dark hair and striking features.

"Asher Fields Scott. Who is this?"

"That is the wife."

Haley gave the file another glance.

"It says here she is deceased."

"That's correct."

"Oh my God. She's so young…how sad. What happened to her?"

"Freak jet ski mishap."

"Accident?" Haley kept reading.

"That's one of many things we intend to find out."

"Homicide?"

"Possibly."

"And this Scott guy, Nathan, is your prime suspect?"

Alston smiled.

"Nathan Scott is the prime suspect in a lot of things. See that thick as thieves file in your hand? We've been looking at that whole family for a lot of years. No one has ever been charged but we are biding our time trying to build the case. We've got evidence but no smoking gun, so to speak, nothing that can stick and put this bastard away like he deserves."

"What about these gambling debts? This is illegal activity. There's certainly a nice paper trail here."

"Enough to get him banned from basketball maybe but that's the least of the kid's problems. He is suspected in a huge ring of enough illegal activity to get him a nice little life long vacation in a federal prison. Fraud, money laundering…you name it. He also is suspected of having ties to a ring of white collar thugs running a multi million dollar drug operation."

"Direct involvement?"

"No but enough guilt by association. Our biggest chance yet has been tax evasion. There is die hard proof that Nathan Scott has failed for the past several years to declare certain income on his returns."

Haley nodded before looking up.

"Okay so we have a rich kid turned white collar scum, is linked to a barrage of sketchy activity, none with concrete proof except for one charge that at minimum will land him a year behind bars, provided he pay the back taxes and uh, looking at this guy's income…that should be no problem."

"Exactly. That's why we need more."

"Okay. So he is a criminal and we want to take him down, that's cool. But it's gonna take a lot. Sir, if you don't mind my asking, what is the federal hard on for this guy?"

"Been a long time coming for the entire Scott family, especially Dan but looks like our best shot at a conviction is Nathan."

"Okay, I'm on it. Just tell me what you need and..."

"How about a confession?"

Haley chuckled. Even the pretty rookie knew better. She knew the profile of Nathan Scott. Guys like him thought they were smarter than the system and most of the time they were. He had access to the best attorneys in the country. He'd never go down without a fight. The odds of confessing to tax evasion and the suspicion of fraud were slim to none.

"Yeah right. That'll never happen. To these charges?"

"How about homicide?" Bailey spoke up.

Haley's eyes narrowed. Now they had her attention.

"Tell me more."

"Take a look at Daunte Johnston. He played in the NBA with Dan. Retired, full of endorsements, member of the league's Athletic Commission, squeaky clean."

"And?"

"That's the public side. The private one is a whole other story. This son of a bitch is at the center of all this illegal activity we've been discussing. Johnston is the key."

"He'll be the first person I interview."

"Good luck interrogating an urn."

"Excuse me?"

"Last month the guy was killed, beaten to death in a public parking lot."

"Oh my God. Any witnesses?"

"None. But we have a feeling it was courtesy of the Scott's."

"Murder for hire?"

"Too messy and disorganized for a professional. This has spur of the moment, pissed off, rich prick written all over it."

"Nathan have a motive?"

"We were onto him. Had enough to put Daunte away for a very long time. He wasn't the main one but he was in a comfortable middle, so to speak. He oversaw a lot but at the same time, he had a lot of people to answer to. We confronted him with the evidence and he started singing like a canary."

"He was the key to bring down the Scott's. An eyewitness?"

"And more. Daunte Johnston was gonna help us bring all those bastards down. His testimony was a lock. We throw him in Witness Protection, the bad guys go to prison and everybody's happy, right? Would have been a perfect plan had he not turned up pummeled to death the night before he was to talk to us."

Haley grimaced at the graphic crime scene photos.

"Okay. So, um, where do we go from here? What happens next?"

"This is all you, James", Alston spoke right to her. "And we're counting on you. The plan is for you to go undercover. Your new identity is Haley Webb. For investigational purposes, 'Miss Webb' has a new driver's license number, social security card, birth certificate…you name it, the Bureau went all out on this one. Haley Webb is a traveling nurse specializing in sports medicine, born 24 years ago in Oklahoma City. She has excellent credentials and references and a resume too good to turn down. As a matter of fact, she is probably being hired as we speak, of course pending a good old fashioned Scott background check."

"Wow…"

"It says on your file that you took Drama your junior year of high school, James?"

"Yeah. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Hope you paid attention because you're gonna have to act your ass off, all the while conducting an official federal investigation. You are to do your job but fit in as well. You become a part of that family. Befriend anyone in that inner circle, get as much information as you can."

"Okay…"

"You will be electronically monitored at all times. Also I encourage you to exercise your right as federal agent to carry a loaded weapon at all times. This ain't exactly The Walton's we're dealing with."

"Yes, sir."

"Any questions?"

"Yes. Will I be interacting with local or state law enforcement?"

They shook their heads.

"This is a fed job all the way. Confidentiality is key. Think you can handle it?"

Haley grinned broadly.

"I think so. In fact, I know so."

"Good."

"Just one more thing…"

"Yes, James?"

She took a deep breath. It was a professional honor but she had to know.

"Why me? Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled. This is great and I am totally up to it and I'm gonna make you guys and this whole department so proud but…why me?"

"Slim pickings", Bailey snorted.

Alston ignored him.

"You are the most qualified for this particular operation. You're young, you're female…you fit the criteria for infiltration. And you're a good agent. With your background in Accounting and Finance and your stint as an EMT and Paramedic, there was no one else."

Haley nodded.

"I appreciate it. I won't let you down", she turned to leave, grinning all the way.

"James?" Bailey bellowed.

"Yes sir?"

"While you're at it, find out what happened to the stripper wife out there on that jet ski, will you? Double homicide would be icing on the cake. Might even get you a promotion or at least a medal."

"Sure thing. I'm on it."

"Don't muck up on this one, kiddo."

"Are you kidding?" she grinned wildly. "I am all over this one."

She turned to leave, not noticing how close she was to the wall. She slammed into it hard enough to shake her up and send her stumbling back a few inches.

"You okay, James?" Alston questioned.

"Yes sir. Sorry about that. I'm just gonna go back to my desk and review the case."

They closed the door after she left as Bailey began popping Tums like it was candy.

"She's gonna be fine, Boss."

"Let's hope so", he sighed. "Let's hope so."