Cybercrime Mysteries: An Amanda Scott, PI, Short Story Collection

By Johanna Rothman

The world needs a little cleaning up, and Amanda Scott and Associates have the will, the technology, and the power to do so. With high-tech gadgets, superior hacking skills, and an ability to extract money from donors, these private eyes find the criminals and bring them to justice.

 

In this collection, Amanda and her team encounter an assassin, a double-crossing money launderer, a domestic abuser, a gang, and a ransomware scheme.

 

Could they work alone? Yes. However, they choose to work together and support each other. And with a little luck, pave the way for the disadvantaged kids who need a little support, too.

 

Read this brand-new collection of five original short mystery stories featuring Boston-based private eye Amanda Scott and her associates.

• Language: English
• Publisher: QSW Publishing
• Release date: Jun 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201586386

Johanna Rothman

Johanna Rothman, known as the “Pragmatic Manager,” provides frank advice for your tough problems. She helps leaders and teams see problems and resolve risks and manage their product development. Johanna is the author of more than ten books and hundreds of articles. Find her two blogs at jrothman.com and createadaptablelife.com.

Book preview

Double Crosser

Chapter 1

James McMaster wasn’t sure what other people were learning at this obstacle course in Waltham, Massachusetts. But after only twenty minutes of watching the team in front of him, he’d learned that they were terrible at zip lines. And that they didn’t trust each other. And that they didn’t want to be here.

He grinned.

He did want to be here. It was a very fine mid-May day in Waltham, Massachusetts. From a decade of Boston experience, he knew that May was a toss-up in the weather department. But today was a Chamber of Commerce day—dry, sunny, a boundless blue sky, all warming the trees to a comfortable temperature. He needed his sunglasses, even as the sun played peek-a-boo with the new green leaves on the trees.

Birds sang, high above him. And the slight breeze was just enough to shake the yellow-green pollen strands from the trees. He smiled. Better pollen than droppings from any of those bluebirds of happiness.

He was looking forward to tromping around in the woods. He’d dressed for tromping. Low black hiking boots, a navy-blue lightweight jacket under his harness. And his olive-colored hiking pants. The pants sat close to his body, which made them ideal for zip lining. Even with all the zippered pockets filled with tools of his trade.

Under his jacket, he wore a wicking light blue shirt, just in case he started to sweat.

At just ten in the morning, it was cool enough that he hadn’t started to sweat yet.

In between all his software work, he managed to maintain his fitness—no mean feat with a desk job. Luckily, his job meant he also needed to be in the field. And his employer, Amanda Scott, made sure everyone took self-defense classes at work. And that they took time to work out.

Between the self-defense training and his normal running—and what he remembered from his time in the Army—he didn’t have any trouble with this obstacle course. Of course, it was just the zip lines so far.

He only had to keep an eye on Wyatt Rawlins, a mega-millionaire. His job—and he had chosen to accept it—was to befriend Rawlins and somehow tag him with a micro audio or video bug. Or wrangle an invitation for coffee or a beer or something and draw him out.

James was sure he could build a little trust and figure out where to find more dirt on Rawlins. Or learn that he was clean. Either way was fine with him.

Although he was pretty sure Rawlins was not clean.

That’s because Amanda suspected Rawlins of several possibilities. Last weekend, she’d seen him at a spring gala and spoke with him. She hadn’t enjoyed his company the first two times she’d met him. This time, she said he gave her the willies.

Those willies made her want to investigate him. When she returned home from the gala, she examined Rawlins’ financials. And those financials did not add up.

Amanda thought Rawlins was either laundering money or embezzling, or worse, involved in sex trafficking. It wasn’t just the financials—he had too many shell companies, like those nesting Russian dolls, each holding a secret from the others.

Which was why James was here on a gorgeous Saturday morning, smelling the clean trees, listening to the birds and the slightly crazed people, and following a guy wearing jeans, dark brown hiking shoes, and a light-blue jacket under a small black backpack. And of course, one of the ubiquitous bright yellow helmets the zip lining company had given out to everyone.

What a life.

However, the so-called team in front of Rawlins? A different story entirely. Six people, all supposedly trying to build trust. And trying to keep up or surpass each other.

Yeah, not so much trust in that so-called team. They’d all made it through the first three challenges. This fourth was going to challenge them something fierce.

James wondered what Rawlins would do, considering they’d have to stand around and wait for the so-called team to get themselves together.

That was when he noticed Rawlins looking around every minute or so, as if there was a clue somewhere. James’ spidey-sense went on high alert. What could Rawlins be looking for in the woods?

He watched unobtrusively as Rawlins took several steps off the official path and looked around. Was it to see if anyone followed him?

Well, James was happy to oblige.

While the zip-lining guides were busy with the team in front of them, Rawlins slipped into the woods. For a guy who didn’t seem much at home on a zip line, he seemed much more at home in the trees. He took off in a westerly direction at a pretty fast clip.

James wasn’t sure where Rawlins was headed. Both Weston and Lincoln were to the west. James wasn’t sure where the boundary was for either of the two towns. However, he did know that the area around both was heavily wooded.

Rawlins didn’t seem to care about the noise he made—he stomped through the woods, rotating his head from side to side.

James followed, moving carefully and more quietly.

Rawlins’ bright yellow helmet shone like a beacon several yards in front of him. James moved more carefully into what he thought might be Rawlins’ blind spot—about forty-five degrees behind Rawlins.

Which might work, because while he could no longer see Rawlins’ body in its blue jeans and olive-colored jacket, he could still see the yellow helmet. On top of that, Rawlins was noisy. As he passed through the woods, the birds stopped singing. The birds resumed their noises once Rawlins passed—almost a wave of birdsong.

Which meant James could follow that wave. As long as James was quiet—which he was. He alternated keeping an eye on Rawlins and an eye on the forest floor, to watch where he stepped.

After several minutes, Rawlins stopped by a tree marked with a small sky-blue square.

James stopped several yards behind Rawlins and took cover behind a tree large enough to cover most of his body. He slowly unzipped his left zippered pants pocket and took out a monocular eyepiece. He trained it on the square and focused on the square. Just a blue fabric square a roughly eye-level for a six-foot tall person. With a skinny nail in the middle to keep it on the tree.

Rawlins turned around slowly, scanning.

James dropped to a squat, keeping his eyepiece trained on Rawlins.

Satisfied he wasn’t being followed, Rawlins turned back to the tree. He bent down and rummaged in the leaves at its base.

James stood slowly, continuing to train his eyepiece on Rawlins.

Rawlins retrieved a flat, light blue bag, the same color as his jacket and just a little larger than the size of a business envelope. He stood, brushed the dirt off the bag, and withdrew a bulky, business-size envelope from the bag. Then he set the blue bag on the ground with the bulky envelope on top.

Straightening, Rawlins unzipped his jacket and withdrew a