Tame Me (The Macintyre Brothers 3)

"Can I get you a coffee or some water?"

"Water would be nice," I said, and she nodded.

She left us for a moment and returned with a bottle of water and placed it in front of me.

When she was gone, Trent handed me a file and I opened it and saw that it was the report. It was on official DOJ letterhead and looked like a legal document. I scanned it but couldn't make out what the conclusion was based on a quick scan.

"What's the upshot?" I asked, and turned to Trent, who was busy scribbling something down in the margins of one page.

"The upshot is that MBS was set up by whoever it was who hacked you. The report doesn't identify the person who did the hack and there are some names redacted, so I assume they're people who may have forthcoming charges laid who the DOJ doesn't want us to know. James will brief us once he comes online."

"James?"

"McBride," Trent said. "My counterpart in the DOJ. He wrote the report and was in charge of the investigation."

We waited for a couple of minutes, and finally, McBride came on the line, apologizing for being late. He looked to be in his early forties, with greying hair, thinning on top and wire rimmed glasses. He looked like what I'd expect a DOJ investigator to look. Ordinary. Blend in.

"What's the upshot, James?" Trent asked, and I glanced back down to my document, turning to the last page, still unable to make out what the final conclusion was.

"We had an informant who suggested we look down a particular avenue for information that might lead to those responsible for the hack and for planting evidence," McBride said. "We were able to trace the original funding to a law office in Concord, New Hampshire."

"Concord?" I said, frowning. "What law office?"

"Apparently, a small corporate law office, Sinclair, Thompson and Monroe. We traced some of the activity to a man connected to your fiancée, Ella Carlson," McBride replied. "Derek Marshall works there as a corporate lawyer. Apparently, he hired someone off 4Chan to hack into MBS and put incriminating evidence on the servers."

"Oh, God," I said and rubbed my forehead. "That's Ella's ex-fiancé. They were going to get married and she called off the wedding when she discovered him cheating with his secretary. He lost his job working for the Governor of New Hampshire, Ella's father. It must have been an attempt to sabotage MBS to get back at her through me."

"That was our thinking as well," McBride said. On the screen, we saw McBride check his watch. "And as of right about now, he's being served with a warrant for his arrest on a number of charges relating to the hack and false report to the FBI."

I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head in amazement at the lengths some people would go to for revenge.

"Unbelievable," I said and turned to Trent. "I never even met the man, but he must have learned that I'd taken over MBS and wanted to hurt me in order to hurt Ella."

"That's what we concluded. No charges will be forthcoming against MBS or Keith Johnson. However, our techies would advise your techies to get better security protection in place. Apparently, a dozen admin personnel were targeted with a phishing attempt and one succeeded. A new staff member who maybe didn't have proper training in avoiding scams."

I nodded. "You can guarantee we won't make that mistake again. We've already hired an IT security expert to come into MBS and provide training in cyber security."

"That's good to hear," McBride said. "Well, gentlemen, unless you have other questions, I have another conference call to attend and have to say goodbye."

"Thanks," I said and nodded to McBride. "I seriously appreciate how helpful you have been through all this."

"Don't mention it."

The conference call ended, and I was left sitting with Trent, shaking my head once more at the audacity of Derek Marshall.

"Ella will be horrified when she finds out this was Derek."

"I'll bet she will be," Trent replied and gathered up his papers. "I'm just glad whoever it was tipped the Feds off about Marshall or you might be getting the warrant instead of him."

"I wonder who tipped him off? Someone in his office? Maybe the girlfriend?"

"That's for the FBI to know and us to never find out, I'm afraid. They keep their sources and methods very tightly protected."

"Of course, but I'd love to know who ratted him out. Whoever it was, I owe them a bottle of expensive Scotch."

"That you do," Trent said.

We finished up and I glanced at my watch. "Well, I better be going. I have my own meetings to attend. Thanks again for your fine work on this, Trent. I really appreciate it."