The Investigation

This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities to any real person or entity are entirely coincidental and unintended. This story is part of a series by this author that includes The Investigation, chapters 1 & 2, A New Investigation, and A Peaceful Investigation. Hopefully, this story can be read with enjoyment on its own, but the prior stories give context and character background.

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The change of administration in Washington had brought some significant changes to the Agency. We had a new director. He talked a tough law and order line, usually at partisan fundraising events. While he had fired the tier of career Agency officials immediately below him, he was not very interested in managing the Agency himself. The next tier of officials were promoted and ran the Agency pretty much as they saw fit.

The Director's firings and neglect worked out well for our friend Kate Howley, who became Deputy Director-Personnel. While that might sound like a dull back-office function, Kate acquired almost complete autonomy over the assignments of agents in the field. If you were stationed in San Francisco and Kate decided to move you to Charleston, West Virginia, you said goodbye to California and hello to West Virginia. If Kate wanted you to retire, you retired or you might find yourself assigned as resident agent in the Aleutians.

Another thing that happened, though, was that the new administration substantially cut the Agency's funding in its first budget. An increase roughly equal to our cut had been given to Immigration and Customs Enforcement. The administration's explanation to Congress and the press was that "If we stop the immigrants at the border, we won't have to worry about drug runners in our country." Most of us in the Agency thought that rationale overlooked the substantial number of native born criminals who understood that great wealth could be had by selling illegal drugs.

Liz and I knew that Kate was coming to visit the Tampa office. While we were friends with her, Kate's new powers caused us to have some trepidation when she called Liz and "invited" (read "ordered") us to have lunch with her while she was in Tampa. I wondered whether I needed to dig out my atlas and study up on the geography of West Virginia and Alaska.

We met Kate on a Friday at a restaurant near the Hillsborough River a little out of the center of downtown. After some pleasantries, Kate said, "I'll get to the point: Harry, can you work under Liz?"

I couldn't help smiling. As I think Kate knew, I had done a lot of, hopefully good, work with Liz straddling me or sitting on my face. Liz giggled. Kate realized what she had asked. "Let me phrase that another way," Kate said, "Can you work with Liz as your superior?"

"I don't see why I couldn't," I replied. My tone of voice posed the implicit question of why Kate was asking.

Kate looked at Liz. "I think that we'd be fine," Liz said. "Obviously, Harry and I are partners. We ask for, listen to, and value each other's opinions. However, if I had the formal final say, Harry would respect that." Liz's tone of voice also asked the question of why we were having this discussion.

Kate paused for a second. She obviously intended to tell us, otherwise there was no point to this meeting. "This is not to be disclosed, to anyone, until it is officially announced. Dan Horn (the Agency's SAC in Tampa) is going to be SAC in Los Angeles." While that looked like a lateral move on an org chart, it was actually a promotion for Dan. LA was a much larger office with many more challenges than Tampa.

I made an assumption and said, "So, Ed will become Tampa SAC?" Ed Needham was my boss as SAC in Ft. Myers and, as Ft. Myers was a satellite of Tampa, was effectively the Agency's second-ranking officer on the Gulf Coast behind Dan.

"No," Kate replied. "Ed is becoming SAC in San Diego. We think that it will be good to have Dan and Ed working together in Southern California. The issue is that we don't think too highly of the other senior agents in Tampa. Jerry and Travis have the years in and can be persuaded to retire. Frank doesn't know it yet, but he's going to become the resident agent in Topeka. That leaves Liz as the most senior person in Tampa whom we have faith in. Liz, are you ready to become SAC for Tampa?"

This was an abrupt and unexpected promotion for Liz. She looked at me without saying anything. I nodded my head vigorously, trying to cue Liz to tell Kate that she sure as hell was ready. After a moment, Liz turned and looked Kate in the eyes. In a soft but resolute voice, Liz said, "Yes, I'm ready."

Kate smiled. "Great. Tampa is yours. The official announcement will be made next Monday. The changes will take effect in a month. That should give everyone time to transition. Now, as the new Tampa SAC, you get to pick the new SAC for the Ft. Myers satellite office."

That caught Liz off guard. She hesitantly said, "Well, I suppose Tom Mellman." Tom was the second senior agent in Ft. Myers. We were a small office with only four agents. I was third in seniority, followed by Jessica Benton.

Kate smiled again. "Tom is going to San Diego with Ed."

Liz looked at me and then looked back at Kate. With a much firmer voice, Liz said, "In that case, I want Harry in charge in Ft. Myers."

I interrupted. "Does that create a problem with me reporting directly to my wife?"

Kate responded quickly. "It would have under the old regime. I don't care too much about that, particularly since I know you two." I noticed that Kate had dropped the royal "we."

"Great," I said, "I've always enjoyed Liz on top."

Kate ignored my attempt at a joke. She rather sternly said, "I know that you two will not let me down." Less sternly she added, "I will try to assign you a few new agents, but don't hold your breath. With the budget cut, we're thin on people all over and we're not hiring for the foreseeable future. I think that you're going to need to work hard on your relationships with the local agencies and persuade them to provide the bulk of your manpower."

That last statement was, perhaps, the most daunting part of the bombshell Kate Howley had dropped on us. Liz and I were relatively young to be the Agency's two top people on the Florida Gulf Coast, but I was confident that we could handle that. Relationships with local law enforcement were another matter. Rightly or wrongly, we and our counterparts at the other Federal law enforcement agencies were largely seen as arrogant and condescending by the county sheriffs and city police.

Once Ed and Tom had been transferred to San Diego, the Agency's Ft. Myers office consisted of me and Jessica, "Jessie," Benton. Jessie was a few years younger than me and Ft. Myers was her first assignment out of training. Jessie was quiet but was an absolute magician with computers. If data existed anywhere in the world, Jessie could find it. She even knew ways to sneak into the "Dark Web" that had been very helpful to us in several cases. Jessie was somewhere on the border between cute and beautiful. She had a freckled face with big eyes and round cheeks framed by thick, shoulder-length reddish-brown hair. When she smiled, it was a huge smile. I suspected that she had a nice body, although she dressed to conceal it. She looked several years younger than she was.

While I admired Ed Needham greatly, one serious weakness he had was his attitude towards female agents. Ed was a product of a somewhat "macho" culture and considered all women law enforcement officers to be dangers to themselves and everyone around them. Consequently, Jessie had rarely been allowed out of the office. Ed was also not forgiving of mistakes by female agents. I think that Ed's attitude had caused Jessie to go somewhat into a shell in at work. Once Liz became our overall boss, she began working with Jessie some. Liz spoke very highly of Jessie's ability and her personality. I was determined to employ Jessie very differently than Ed had. Besides, I had no choice: there were no other agents in the Ft. Myers office.

I made a concerted effort to draw Jessie out of her shell and to build a relaxed working relationship. As I gave Jessie a lot more responsibility, she began to open up a little bit. Over time, we began to have real colleague-to-colleague conversations and even had lunch together occasionally.

One early spring day, I had persuaded Jessie to join me for a lunch of carryout subs eaten in a nearby park. We were sitting on a bench off by ourselves when Jessie said, "Boss, may I ask you something?"

"Only if you drop the 'Boss' crap and start calling me Harry," I replied.

Jessie actually smiled. "Ok Harry," she said.

"That's a lot better," I replied. "What did you want to know?"

"Well," Jessie started and then paused. She seemed to blush a little bit. She took a breath. "There's a story going around the Agency grapevine that you and your wife met while you were doing an undercover assignment at a nudist colony?"

That assignment, which brought Liz and me together, was supposed to be highly confidential. I wasn't happy about it being a subject of Agency gossip. At the same time, I didn't think that I could build the kind of working relationship I wanted with Jessie by lying to her.

"I don't know what is going around, but there is some truth to that story," I said. "Liz and I met when the big bosses in Virginia and DC chose us to try to get close to someone whom they thought was very dirty but they had been unable to nail. Ironically, the target of the investigation turned out to be completely innocent. The bad guy was someone with the same, very common, name who was about the same age and lived in the same area." I paused. "We did spend some time at a naturist resort because that was where the target and his girlfriend spent a lot of time."

"If you were working undercover, do I assume correctly that the two of you went nude?"Jessie asked.

I gulped. More abruptly than I intended, I said, "You assume correctly." Jessie gave me a look that said that she didn't understand my sudden brusqueness. "Sorry," I said much more gently. "The assignment was supposed to be very confidential so I'm a bit sensitive talking about it."

Jessie seemed to accept my apology. We ate in silence for a couple of minute. After she'd finished a couple more bites of her sandwich, Jessie asked "What was it like?"

"What was what like?" I asked.

"You know," Jessie said. "What was it like to be naked with other people?"

"Well," I started. "You quickly find out that naturists or nudists aren't some strange cult. By and large, they're normal men and women who like to spend time not wearing any clothes. The biggest difference which I noticed is that the people at the resort seemed much more friendly than I'd expect from a similarly sized group of clothed people. It is kind of hard to be a pretentious asshole when you don't have any clothes on. People open up to each other when they bare their bodies. I think that it had a lot to do with the relationship that Liz and I formed."

"You make it sound like a positive experience," Jessie said. "Weren't you embarrassed going around while everyone could see your, well, your dick, balls, and ass?"

"We were somewhat scared at first,' I replied. "But, you pretty quickly figure out that it isn't that big a deal because everyone else is nude too. Swimming with nothing on is wonderful, and the sun and the breeze feel great on your bare skin. It gets a bit addictive."

"You really do make it sound nice," Jessie said. "Do you guys still go nude?"

I figured that I needed to be honest, but not too honest. "Sometimes," I said.

Jessie looked at me quietly for a moment. She said, "I don't know if I could do it. I think that I'd have to be forced."

"Liz and I pretty much were forced," I said. "It was made pretty clear that our careers in the Agency would be over if we declined that assignment."

Jessie looked at me again as she finished her sandwich, but didn't ask any more questions. Grateful that she had dropped the topic, I put my trash into my sandwich bag. "Ready to get back to work?" I asked.

Those who have read the prior installments of my reminiscences know that Liz and I became good friends with John Smith, the target of the investigation which Jessie had asked about, and his long-time girlfriend Karen. John and Karen lived in a clothing-optional resort near Tampa. Liz and I visited them there fairly often.

Jessie did not mention Liz's and my nude assignment again after our one lunchtime conversation. A few weeks later, John called Liz at work. John and Karen were friends with several people in a group that had regular nude outings to a privately-owned barrier island in the general area of Ft. Myers. In fact, not long after John was cleared of any suspicion, he and Karen took Liz and me to one of the group's outings. The group had their outings bi-weekly. His friends in the group had told John something that John felt he ought to pass on.

John told Liz that his friends had reported that, during their last three outings, a group of fishing boats had come by their island in a seeming convoy. The boats went into the sound and headed to an undeveloped part of the mainland. The boats came back out into the Gulf fairly quickly, riding noticeably higher in the water. While the boats had approached the island and entered the sound together, they had always split up as soon as they got back into the Gulf. Still, John's friends hadn't thought too much about it until the last time when a couple of the nudists saw one of the men on the boat holding what they described as a "machine gun."

It seemed highly probable to Liz and me that the boats were bringing in drugs. We didn't know whether their runs had just happened to coincide with the nudists' outings, it was unusual for drugs to be run ashore in broad daylight. That suggested that, for some reason, the druggies were coordinating their trips with the nudists' outings. The reason for that wasn't apparent to us, but the outings were the only times we knew of when we had a chance of catching the drug runners.

Liz and I talked at home. It seemed fairly obvious to us what we needed to do. The next nudist group outing was a week from Saturday. We needed to have people with the group looking for the drug boats. Assuming that we didn't let them sneak up on us, there would be time to get the Sheriff's people in place to make the bust when the boats started to unload. If the druggies were timing their runs to coincide with the nudists' outings, they were paying attention to the nudists. Whoever we sent with the nudists to spot the drug boats would have to go nude too so that they fit in and didn't scare the druggies off.

We couldn't ask the Sheriff's Office to have its deputies go nude. That request would hurt our efforts to build a better relationship with the locals. We would have to send our agents on the nudists' outing. As senior agent on the Gulf Coast, Liz would have to coordinate with the Sheriff's personnel and the Coast Guard on the day. She couldn't do that from the island. The island was in the jurisdiction of the Ft. Myers office. Jessie and I were the logical people to go. .

We thought that Liz had the better relationship with Jessie, so Liz came to the Ft. Myers office to sell the operation to Jessie in person. I sat quietly in a corner of the conference room as Liz explained the operation to Jessie and why we thought that we needed agents to go nude on the outing.

When Liz finished her pitch to Jessie, Jessie asked, "Do I have a choice?"

I spoke up. "Yes, you do have a choice. You can decline and it won't hurt your career. I'll go alone, if the nudists will let me."

"Why wouldn't they let you?" Jessie asked.

"I don't know about this group specifically," I said, "but many nudist and naturist groups don't allow unaccompanied males at their events. They make some women nudists uncomfortable."

"More importantly," Liz added, "we need two sets of eyes so that we spot the boats as early as possible. One person could be looking the wrong direction, get distracted, or even trip and fall in the sand. We need to spot the boats early in order to get the deputies in the right place on the mainland. Also, while I don't think anything is likely to go wrong, one agent on the island would have absolutely no back-up if something did happen. Sure, other people will be there but, if something goes off the rails, we need trained agents on the spot, not civilians."

Jessie sat quietly for several minutes, thinking. Blushing a little, she looked each of us in the eyes. Finally, her smile broke out. "What the hell," she said. "I'll do it."

"Thank you," Liz said.

John put us in touch with the organizer for the outing. She, in turn, put us in touch with a couple who were going to take their boat up from Sanibel. I talked to the couple and agreed that we would meet them at the boat ramp on Sanibel next to the causeway at 9:00 a.m. that Saturday. The husband guessed that it would take us a little over an hour to get to the island by boat.

The day before the outing, UPS showed up at the office with some communications gear Liz had had sent to us. There was an ear piece for each of us that looked much like a Bluetooth device. There was also a box about the size of a small desktop computer that would receive the signals from our devices and relay them from the island to Liz, who would be working out of a Sheriff's mobile command center vehicle, basically a specially equipped RV. We would stay on one frequency. The Sheriff's people would use another and the Coast Guard, if needed, would be on a third. Part of Liz's job was to make sure that the people on all three frequencies got the information they needed when they needed it. Jessie and I would each wear one of the earpieces so we could communicate quietly with each other and communicate with Liz.

Jessie was already at the Sanibel boat ramp when I got there a bit before 9:00 a.m. that Saturday. Wearing a long tee shirt over what looked like a dark colored bikini, Jessie was already showing more skin and more of her figure than I had ever seen before. She had fairly large breasts. Her legs below the hem of the tee shirt were, perhaps, slightly bigger than perfect, but looked very firm. She had her hair down and loose and, in the sun, it looked more red than brown. Overall, she looked pretty damn good.

On the dot of 9:00 a.m., an open fishing boat pulled up at the end of the ramp. There was a middle-aged couple on the boat. The woman called out, "Are you Jessie and Harry?"

Jessie called back, "Yes, we are."

The man called, "Well, get aboard."

I waded out to the boat with the two canvass bags containing our communications gear, sunscreen, a very small pair of binoculars, and our two guns, with two extra clips apiece. We had 48 rounds between us. If things went south, that should be enough to hold off the bad guys until the cavalry arrived. At least, I hoped so.

I went back to my car while Jessie waded out to the boat. I had picked up a couple of cheap Styrofoam coolers and filled them with ice and drinks. I figured that I ought to bring something for our hosts. I carried the coolers out to the boat one at a time and handed them to Jessie on board. After she took the second one, I heaved myself over the side into the boat.

The man, whom I learned was named Jim, increased his throttle and steered us away from the ramp and into the channel under the causeway bridge. The woman, Marge, told us "Lee County can be a little unpleasant about nudity, so we usually stay dressed until we get to the island." The look on Jessie's face suggested that was ok with her.

Jessie and I sat towards the stern and tried to stay out of the way. Jim was driving the boat fast enough to generate quite a bit of wind, which made conversation difficult. Mainly, Jessie and I sat quietly looking at a lovely day on the water. Not having spent that much time on the water at that point in my life, I was surprised by the number of boats already out at what seemed to me to be an early hour for a Saturday.