Forgotten Witness by Rebecca Forster Read Free Book Online Page B

wasn’t.
    “Call me first,” Eugene snapped and the line went dead.
    “Yes, sir.” Morgan muttered this to dead air and turned his phone off. “You friggin’ twit.”
    Morgan stopped the car, draped his arms over the steering wheel and watched Ian Francis wobble before he become mesmerized by the sight of his reflection once more.
    “Why is Genie so interested in you, you poor schmuck?”
     

 
    A Washington Post exposé on domestic surveillance reveals massive FBI databases keeping tabs on Americans not even suspected of criminal activity; costly fusion centers that threaten privacy but produce little intelligence of value; and insufficient and inaccurate intelligence training for analysts serving in the almost 4,000 different counterterrorism organizations across the United States .
- ACLU

CHAPTER 5
    Eugene Weller had made his excuses to Senator Patriota and sent him off to his next appointment in the fairly competent hands of one of the staff; a young man whose name Eugene could never remember but who distinguished himself by writing exceptional letters that captured the senator’s voice beautifully.
    For the last two hours Eugene sat in his office, dark save for a small lamp on the far wall and the light of his computer screen. Three windows were open, each with different references to Ian Francis and his work for the government. More information on the man, his work, and ancillary personnel had been printed out. Certain references had been written down and would be checked elsewhere rather than commit additional searches to the computer’s memory.
    Ian Francis was neither a major player in the grand scheme of things nor did he participate at a particular critical time in the project he had referenced, but the fact remained that he had been a part of it. Senator Patriota would be impressed that Eugene had recognized this to be more than a common security breach, too. Of course, there was more to be found but it wasn’t necessary to pursue the matter immediately. Eugene hit print, closed the open windows, and relaxed.
    Feeling as if he had been smart enough to decline desert after a fine meal, Eugene was left satisfied but clear-headed. He marveled at the efficiency of government on the micro level. There was a plethora of information in the system and yet, more often than not, it was input and forgotten. In a few short hours Eugene had put together a very clear picture of an intricate spiral of dominoes that had stood for decades. Ian Francis was the finger that flicked Josie Bates, a latecomer who had inadvertently placed herself first in the chain. Thankfully, the blow the man dealt her had been glancing. She wobbled, Patriota held her upright, and that gave Eugene time to move her out of the queue. In a few hours the woman would be home and trying to put all this out of her mind. Now here he was, Eugene Weller, domino two; stable and aware, he was not only in the queue, he was master of it.
    He paged through the information again slowly, unaware that he was smiling. He checked the clock and saw that he was late for the meeting at the senator’s house. He called and left his apologies with Lydia: business at the office, he explained. She said she would pass along the message but that they were all getting along fine. Eugene hung up having read between the lines.
    They were all getting along fine without you, Eugene.
    He smirked. If she only knew how much the senator needed him she would treat him with a little more respect. No matter. Eugene needed no accolades, only the satisfaction of knowing he had served well. He looked at the phone and felt a little tug in his groin, a response to the almost giddy excitement that was building as he waited for Morgan’s call.
    Eugene Weller couldn’t wait to find out where a dead man went when he visited Washington D.C.
     
    ***
     
    The streets Josie walked were eerily silent. She passed alleyways, stepped around cigarette butts outside a smoke shop, and crunched