Sunday. July 5, 2026 - See Previous Newsletters

While I was putting together the 15th Anniversary Edition of Lust, Money & Murder 1, 2 & 3, I stumbled across a treasure chest:

A file called "Extra stuff."

In that file, I found a whole bunch of dramatic scenes from the first three books—sequences I had either deleted or summarized for fear of making the story too long. I had completely forgotten ever writing them.

Reading them again after 15 years, it was like they were brand new to me. I found myself nailed to the page, and I almost regretted leaving them out.

I thought I would share one of them with you. It's from the part of the story where Elaine interviews for the Secret Service job and has to pass the lie detector test while desperately hiding the fact that she has an ulterior motive. I edited the first couple of paragraphs to provide context. (It's a 15-minute read—you can put it on your e-reader or app for free here, if you want.)

The tightness in Elaine Brogan’s chest worsened as she stepped off the public bus and headed towards the U.S. Secret Service field office in Providence, Rhode Island.

The sights and sounds of the five-minute walk had become familiar over the past few weeks.  She had been interviewing for the Special Agent job, taking one written test after another, jumping one hurdle after another.

But today was the biggest day, the one she had been dreading.  And not for weeks or months, but for years.

The lie detector test.

As she strolled along towards the federal building, she was the picture of poised composure—shoulders back, chin up, dressed in a sharp, conservative charcoal suit.

Inwardly, her stomach was a churning knot of acid.

It's just a job, Elaine. It's no big deal.

Ha!  That lie, which she was only telling to herself, was the biggest whopper of all.  It would probably make a polygraph machine explode.

No matter how well she prepared herself for rejection, she knew that if she didn't get this job, she would be devastated.

She had dedicated the last six grueling years of her life to this project, ever since the horrific evening her father had been arrested for currency counterfeiting and thrown in jail.  Every decision she had made since that fateful moment in her life had been part of a painstakingly calculated trajectory toward this exact day. It was the final test to get the job that would allow her to mete out justice.

She had lived a double life in college harboring this dark secret.  While her peers at the Rhode Island School of Design experimented with avant-garde art, Elaine had weaponized her education. She had focused her graphic design studies on the complex, raised ridges of intaglio printing and the chemistry of security inks, which would make her a great asset to the Secret Service’s Anti-Counterfeiting Division.

On top of that, to make herself an even more valuable asset, she had trekked back and forth across the college hills for four long years to take intensive Russian language classes at Brown University. She had even spent a month in Moscow last summer for intensive practice.

Fluency in Russian was a big plus for special agent applicants.

Physically, she couldn’t have been in better shape.  She  had conditioned her body until she could run miles without breaking a sweat.  The physical exams were as rigorous as the mental ones, and she had passed them with flying colors.

Usually the Service hired criminal justice majors.  None of those eggheads can compete with me, she thought, as she neared the headquarters.

But the moment pushed through the heavy glass doors of the building, all her confidence vanished. By the time she passed through security and took the elevator up to the fourth floor, she felt meek, and about two feet tall.

"Good morning, Elaine," the receptionist said with a polite, practiced smile, checking her clipboard. The no-nonsense woman knew Elaine’s face from all the interviews she had gone through.  “They're ready for you. Pass through the double doors. Agent Miller is waiting in Room Three.”

Elaine nodded, her throat too dry to offer more than a quiet "Thank you."

All she could see in her mind’s eye was a polygraph machine with a bunch of wires they would connect to her sweaty body.

She walked down the carpeted hallway and opened the door to Room 3.

The space was stripped of everything comforting. There were no windows, no art, just soundproof acoustic paneling the color of wet slate and a single fluorescent fixture that hummed on a frequency that put her on edge even more. In the center sat a heavy wooden chair with wide, flat armrests, facing a laminate desk.

On that desk sat the “monster” she had been fearing,  squiggly red and green lines slowly scrolling across the screen.

Special Agent Miller didn’t glance up. He was adjusting the settings, looking less like a federal agent and more like a scientist.

"Sit, please," Miller said, his voice flat, “and remove your blazer. Feet flat on the floor. Arms on the rests..."

After all the sensors were connected to her, she felt like a lab rat.

“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous, but don’t worry—it won’t affect the results.”  He sat down and looked at the screen, which she could no longer see.  “That’s what the control questions are for, to establish your baseline.”

He motioned to her.  “I want you to answer only 'yes' or 'no’ to all of them. Do you understand?”

"Yes," Elaine said.

Gazing at the screen, he said, “Is your legal name Elaine Brogan?"

"Yes."

"Are you currently twenty-three years old?"

“No.”  She was twenty-two.

"Are you currently in Boston, Massachusetts?”

“No.”

“Is your father’s first name Patrick?”

Sheer panic lurched through her body.  They know!  They know exactly why I want to join the Secret Service.

Miller had been watching the screen, and his eyes shifted to her face, waiting for the response.

“Um, yes.”

He pressed a button. “Baseline established. Now, we will move into the relevant portion of the examination. Remember: please try to remain absolutely still."

Elaine gave the slightest nod.

"Have you ever used an illegal drug?"

"No." That one was easy, thank goodness.

"Have you ever been associated with anyone known to be involved in subversive activities against the United States government?"

“No.” That was easy, too.

"Have you ever knowingly attempted to pass counterfeit currency?"

The room felt suddenly devoid of oxygen. The memory flashed violently in her mind: the crisp, clean bills Ronald Eskew had handed her when she had demanded a refund on all the useless lessons the modeling agency had pressured her into taking, when she was only sixteen.

“No,” she said.  Her father had been the one who deposited the bills into his personal bank account, with neither of them knowing they were fake.

Miller stared at the screen for a few long seconds, then clicked some keys.

"I am going to repeat the question, Elaine," Miller said softly, looking at her again. "Have you ever knowingly attempted to pass counterfeit currency?"

Now she was sure they knew her true motive for wanting the job…

But…did they?  Fighting currency counterfeiting was one of the main tasks of the Secret Service. They had an entire division dedicated to it.  With her carefully orchestrated studies, she was sure they had already earmarked her for that division, if she passed everything.  It was entirely possible they asked every applicant this same question.

Elaine’s heart hammered against her ribs.  Control your fear, she told herself.

“No," she said, her voice steady, even if her blood was screaming.   They couldn’t know that only a few days after her father went to jail and killed himself in his own cell, she had retrieved his pistol to go after Ronald Eskew fully intending to dispatch him from this world.

Miller stared at the screen for another long moment. He didn't move to the next question immediately.

"Have you ever withheld information regarding a felony crime from law enforcement?"

I’ve never done anything wrong, she told herself.  Almost, but almost doesn’t count.  Ronald Eskew had disappeared.

Miller was waiting for the answer.  “I repeat:  Have you ever withheld information regarding a felony crime from law enforcement?"

“No,” Elaine said, returning his steady gaze.  That answer was true, as far as she knew.

He nodded and peered at the screen.

She was certain what the next question would be. Do you know a man by the name of Ronald Eskew?

Miller clicked a few keys, rose from his chair, and said,  “That’s it.”

Without another word, he began unbuckling the tubes from around her chest. Elaine was stunned.  He popped the velcro on the blood pressure cuff, letting the trapped air escape with a sharp hiss.

"Wait out in Reception," he said quietly.

* * *

When Elaine left the room, her knees were slightly weak, though she refused to let her posture slump.

As she walked back out into the reception area, she was dazed—what was she supposed to be waiting for?  A Passed or Failed verdict?

She looked uncertainly at the receptionist, who smiled pleasantly, as if Elaine had just had a routine teeth cleaning.

“Have a seat,” she said.  “It shouldn’t be long. Doctor Steiner will be with you shortly.”

“Doctor Steiner…?”

“For your psych evaluation.”

“Oh.” Elaine had been so nervous about the lie detector test she had nearly forgotten about that part.  It might even be worse.

She sat down on the couch, trying not to appear rattled.  Now she understood—Miller was passing along the results of the polygraph to the psychologist, who would then drill down further.

What a nightmare.  She would never pass all this.

She chastised herself for thinking she could pull one over on an organization as powerful as the U.S. Secret Service.

Prior to the polygraph test, she had considered trying to find a book to help her pass it, but never got past the thought.  She was afraid to  go to a bookstore or search online for such information.  For all she knew, they were tailing her.

This organization protected the President of the United States, for God’s sake! She already knew they had interviewed some of her neighbors and classmates in Pittsburgh.  She imagined walking into a bookstore and asking a clerk if they had any books on how to pass lie detector tests, and then as soon as she left, a guy in a suit flashing a badge and asking, “What did that young woman ask you about?”

Elaine was so afraid of being watched the past few weeks that she didn’t dare glance over her shoulder to find out, afraid that even that would be noticed by someone.

“Ms. Brogan?”

Elaine looked up, completely lost in her own thoughts.

The receptionist motioned towards the hallway.  “Room Six.”

* * *

Dr. Steiner was in his 50s, with a snow-white goatee and penetrating blue eyes. He looked like the type of man who didn’t miss a trick.

He motioned to the chair across from him, and Elaine sat down.  Aware of body language, she made sure not to cross her arms or look defensive in any way.

He watched her a moment, and then smiled.  “You seem relaxed, which is unusual.  Most candidates are quite keyed up about this interview.”

Elaine only now realized that somehow, in the past two minutes since she had risen from the couch in reception and walked in here, her attitude had shifted.

She shrugged.  “I have nothing to lose.  I really want this job, but if I don’t get it, it won’t be the end of the world.”

Steiner raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the open file on his desk.  “That’s a mature attitude, but a little surprising, honestly.”

“Why’s that?”

He tapped on her file.  “It looks like you have been preparing for a job in the Counterfeiting Division for years—ever since you started college.”

Elaine shrugged again.  “True, but I’ve learned not to get too attached to the idea.”  In reality, she had accepted the fact that they weren’t going to hire her and was already coming to terms with it.

Steiner nodded.  “Fine, let’s get started.”

He began with the usual psychological tests with Elaine—Rorschach ink blot, free association, freehand drawing—and then started asking questions about her childhood.

“I see here that your father was arrested for passing counterfeit currency and construction site theft…?”

Here it comes, Elaine thought, with an inner sigh.  “Yes, that’s correct.”

“How do you feel about that?”

That question threw her off.  She had expected him to ask her about Ronald Eskew  “Well…of course I was very upset.  I was only sixteen.  I had no idea that my father was involved in any kind of—”

“I didn’t ask you how you felt about it then, Ms. Brogan. “I’m asking how you feel about it now.”

“Oh.” She tried to buy time to think.  “I’m not sure what you mean.  Can you be more specific?”

Steiner motioned to her.  “Do you feel angry about it?  Sad?  Ashamed?  Vindictive? You and your father must have been very close.” He looked at the file.  “It says here your mother left when you were...ten?”

“That’s right.” Elaine could feel sweat trickling down her back.

“So…?  Your dad was a criminal.  How do you feel about it?”

Elaine decided to tell the painful truth.  “My father was not a sophisticated man, Dr. Steiner.  He only had a ninth-grade education.  Now that I have some distance on my growing up, I feel genuinely sorry for him.  I know he was doing the best he could.”

Dr. Steiner nodded. “You’re not angry with him, then?”

“Not anymore.  At first I was mad at him for committing suicide and leaving me all alone. But I’ve come to terms with it now. He just couldn’t cope.”

“The police report says he never revealed where he got the counterfeit money.”  Steiner looked up at her. “Do you have any idea where it came from?”

Elaine’s heart was pounding now.  “No,” she lied. “I always assumed he got it from whoever was buying the stolen construction site materials.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I never gave that part of it much thought—the point is, I’m sure he didn’t know the money was counterfeit, no matter where it came from.”

“I see.” Steiner studied her for a long moment. Now Elaine wasn’t so sure they knew about Eskew. Maybe they were just fishing.   

“So,” the psychologist said, “your desire to become a Special Agent has nothing whatsoever to do with your father’s arrest...”

This was it, the $64,000 question. And here comes the $64,000 lie I’ve been preparing for years.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Of course my father’s arrest made me dislike counterfeiters a little more than other types of criminals. I’m basically a very moral person. I applied for this job because I think it will be satisfying to help protect the United States against criminal activities of all kinds.”

What a bunch of hogwash, Elaine thought.  Surely he can see through it.

She waited anxiously as Dr. Steiner looked back at the file. He flipped through a couple of pages, scratched his beard, thinking, then closed it.  “That will be all, Ms. Brogan. Thank you for your time—we’ll be in touch.”

Elaine rose from the chair uncertainly. “So...did I pass?”

The psychologist remained poker-faced. “We’ll be in touch,” he repeated.

* * *

Elaine spent the next few days in such an anxious state she couldn’t sleep, could barely eat, and had trouble concentrating at her waitressing job.

Every time she came home and checked her physical mailbox outside her apartment, her heart was in her throat.  The same when she checked her landline voicemail.  She didn’t have a cellphone, because she couldn’t afford one, and she was glad for that—she would have probably checked the voicemail fifty times a day.

She actually had given up on getting the Secret Service job, but there was a small chance, right?  A tiny chance that she had somehow slipped through the cracks.  A tiny chance that somehow, they did not know about Ronald Eskew, or that her intent was to use their government organization—one of the most powerful in the world—as her own personal sword to track down Ronald Eskew and punish him to the fullest extent of the law…and maybe even more.

On the third day after the polygraph test and psych exam, after coming home from work and finding no letter or voicemails, Elaine called Ashley for what must have been the fourth time.

“For the small chance that I was accepted, are you sure they would call and not send a letter?”

“Oh, I’m positive,” Ashley said. “With all my experience with the Secret Service, stretching back at least five minutes, I'm sure of it.”  She sighed. “Elaine, I have no idea/  I just think a rejection would be a form letter, and an acceptance would be a personal call.  That’s how it usually works for most jobs, I think.”

Elaine sighed, too.

“Girl, you have to relax about this.”

“I turned down three other jobs, Ashley.”

“Well, you should have tried to string them along until you found out about this one, you want it so badly.”

“Sorry to bother you again,” Elaine muttered, wiping a frustrated tear from her eye. “I just want them to officially tell me no so I can get on with my life.”

“I totally understand,” Ashley said.

After another sleepless night, Elaine finally managed to doze off about four a.m.  Fortunately, it was her day off, and she didn’t have to get up early.

At about nine, she was awakened by the sound of the main mailbox door outside being opened.

She threw on her robe and, after the postman was gone, padded out to her box and opened her box.

There was one letter sitting inside, in a plain-looking envelope, with her name and address printed on a label.

The return address simply said, “U.S. Government” and gave the address of the federal building downtown.

She tested the thickness as she carried it back inside.

There was no more than one piece of paper in it.

Of course it was a rejection…

Elaine couldn’t open it—she tossed it on the coffee table, paced around the tiny living room in a circle, cursing aloud.  Berating herself for wasting her entire college education on this stupid, pointless pursuit.

Of course they didn’t hire her, and they would never hire her!  They didn’t hire bloodthirsty vigilantes.

She sat down on the couch, staring at the letter, with her palm against her forehead.  She felt sick. Dizzy.  Like she was going to vomit.

Finally she ripped it open and unfolded the single sheet of paper.

Dear Ms. Brogan:

It is with great pleasure that I extend to you a formal offer of employment for the position of Special Agent with the United States Secret Service.

Your exceptional qualifications, language proficiency, and performance during the evaluation phases have distinguished you among a highly competitive field of candidates.

Please report to the Providence Field Office on July 2nd at 10:00 a.m. At this time, you will meet with your onboarding coordinator to complete your final security paperwork, take your initial oath, and coordinate your official relocation logistics and travel itinerary for the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center (FLETC) in Glynco, Georgia.

Welcome to the Service.

Sincerely,

Charles E. Vance

Elaine sprang off the couch and whooped so loudly she thought they probably heard it all the way downtown, inside the federal building. She fist pumped the air about five times, dancing around the room, screaming “Yes! Yes!  Yes!”…and then collapsed onto the couch, sobbing.

But her tears were of joy and relief.

(End)

I hope you enjoyed that. If you want more like this, please let me know.

Bye for now,

Mike

New! Lust, Money & Murder

Collector's LIMITED Edition

Specially Priced Digital Boxed Set

Whole Series in One File (Kindle or EPUB)

Have you read all my books?  

Lust, Money & Murder

Affordable Trilogy Boxed Sets

Lust, Money & Murder

Stand-Alone Novels

Outback Diamonds (LM&M #16)

Marilyn's Secret Liptstick (LM&M #17)

Mortal Silence (LM&M #18)

More 'Unputdownable' Books by Mike Wells
(Click on the photos for full synopses)

International Crime Thriller - Lust, Money & Murder (Series)
The deeper she goes, the more she risks becoming a criminal herself.

Crime/Psychological Thriller
If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Crime Thriller - The Drive-By Wife
Takes "home invasion" to an entirely new level.

Crime Thriller - The List
She doesn't forget. She doesn't forgive.

Crime Thriller/Serial Murders - With Mother's Approval
A mother's love is eternal. For some, it's lethal.

Romantic Suspense - Forbidden (Series)
Temptation has its price.

New Adult Sci-Fi Adventure - Wild Child (Series)
You don't choose the green water...the green water chooses you.

Horror/Black Comedy
Babies always know...and they don't forget.

Technothriller - The Tesla Secret
Unlocking Tesla’s free energy secret could power the world...or end their lives.

Technothriller - Blind Scorpion
He could walk away a hero...but for which country?

YA Sci-Fi Romance - The Mysterious Disappearance of Kurt Kramer 
Lost in between worlds, will his heart lead him home?

Romantic Comedy - Secrets of the Elusive Lover
He plays the field, but she changes the game.

Coming of Age Suspense - The Wrong Side of the Tracks
First love in the teenage hell known as high school.

Book-Related Merchandise

. .