Fair Game: A Megan O'Connell Mystery Book 3: Megan O'Connell Mysteries, #3

By Joan Hetzler

Megan O'Connell moves to Atlanta to start a new job at an International Christian ministry for investigative reporters. Her first assignment is to find and expose the crime boss behind a human trafficking syndicate that targets young women from Christian homes. As she moves further into the world of secret deals made in sports venues and old world mansions, one of her sources is killed before sharing her secrets. Megan locks eyes with the killer and can identify him, but the police write it off as a domestic dispute and refuse to investigate her information. Megan is on her own, but not entirely. Her friend, Lisa, offers her high tech computer skills for the search, and Derek, her handsome detective boyfriend, comes to her rescue, more than once. Megan's quest for answers shows the truth does set the captives free.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joan Hetzler
• Release date: May 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224347414

Joan Hetzler

Joan Hetzler has been a freelance writer and editor for over twenty-five years. Her creative writing experience includes stage plays, poems, short stories, humor, memoir, and mystery novels. For eight years, she produced and hosted The Writer's Show, a radio program devoted to writers and their readers at a local college station. Our of her love of mysteries, Joan developed the Megan O'Connell Mysteries where Megan, an investigative journalist with a nose for murder, lives out her Christian faith and helps others in need. Also, Joan tries to capture her experiences living on the coastal islands of South Georgia and the mountains of North Georgia in stories and poems that reflect the Glory of God.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Late afternoon sunlight glinted off the glass-fronted office buildings onto Megan’s windshield. She blinked and adjusted her sunglasses. Her foot eased off the gas pedal as she drove along a street in Northwest Atlanta. She glanced in her rear-view mirror to keep an eye out for speeding drivers. The building she wanted would have no sign, no name–just a number to mark its existence.

She glanced at her GPS. Not yet. Maybe nearer the crossroads? There is such a thing as being too discreet, she mused. There! Above the arched entranceway on a three-story glass building were the numbers she sought. Were they the winning numbers to her future? Would they open a door to a new career?

She smiled at her whimsical thoughts and pulled into a parking spot near the door. No reserved spots with a CEO or manager’s name fanned out from the entrance. She stepped out to adjust her dark conservative business suit, flipped back her shoulder-length brown hair, and clicked her car door shut. The empty entrance hall sounded hollow as she walked across beige ceramic tiles towards two gleaming stainless steel elevator doors. She was expected and probably viewed from a hidden camera so, as instructed, chose the elevator button that said, private rather than public.  

She stepped in and moved upwards as outside sounds muted. In an abrupt change of sensory experience, the doors opened to reveal the soft voices of people talking in several languages behind cubicles or walking down the hall in quiet conversations. No need for a receptionist desk as no random visitors came here. A woman stood waiting to greet her with a smooth tranquil face and calm expression.

Hi Megan, I’m so glad to meet you. I’m Anna. We’ve heard a lot about you and delighted you contacted us.

Megan smiled and said ruefully, It wasn’t that easy. After I saw your ministry's plaque on the church wall, no one could give me a number or an address. I finally begged the pastor to research your organization for me.

Anna smiled. Her previously unlined face showed a few soft wrinkles around the eyes but then red hair with lightly freckled skin had a way of sometimes showing laugh lines a little early. Yes, we keep a low profile.

Very low.

Our people go into very dangerous spots of the world and can be shot on the spot just for their faith. Those enemies are here in the U.S. as well. We don’t advertise, and we don’t have a social media presence except for certain individuals who have their own websites and projects.

Anna turned and walked towards a hallway with a door at the end. We researched you after the pastor contacted us. And, of course, we read the resume and writing samples you sent. But then most of us already knew your name from your byline as a war correspondent and the mysteries you solved here in Atlanta. 

Megan winced. Actually, solving mysteries is not my career just journalism.

Anna opened a door and walked into a conference room, Well, you’ve succeeded at both.

Megan had no time to respond as several people stood up to welcome her and shake hands. Two middle-aged men, both in good physical shape and an alert look in their eyes, said hello. An older woman with thick white hair, probably from Middle East ancestry, also greeted her. A young African American woman in her twenties and an even younger man with blonde hair who looked to be barely 20 also waved slightly from their more distant positions around the large table.

As they all sat back down, Megan took the chair to which Anna pointed her. The older man with a bald head and glasses said, I’m Phil Massingale, the chairman or the head of this organization if you want to call me that. He paused, Actually God is the head of this organization, but here on earth ‘the buck stops with me’ as the saying goes.

Megan nodded. Yes, the pastor mentioned your name.

I don’t know how much he told you but before I go into detail and introduce the others, I’d like to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind? I apologize for the security, but we’ve been targeted by a well-funded and destructive group recently.

I understand. I don’t mind at all.

First, please summarize why you are applying for this job.

Megan said, As I think you know from my resume and portfolio, I've worked as a journalist specializing in the human, suffering side of war stories rather than battle reports from various countries. I’ve been based out of New York. Our country doesn’t have the same battle presence in countries as we once did, but there is always a violent or destructive crisis of some sort that needs to be covered. About a year or so ago I began to feel burned out and came home to Atlanta for a rest. I also had a strong feeling that my job was not where God wanted me to be so I resigned. My editor asked me to do one last story since it was based here in Atlanta and involved some friends of mine.

Anna asked, "Was that the story you did on Pastor Bobby’s arrest?

Yes, it soon became apparent the newspaper editors and I were pursuing different objectives. I wanted the truth, and they wanted me to prove their agenda and hatred for all things Christian. Halfway through my research, they pulled the story and ended my termination notice early.

Megan paused for a moment. She, too, did not want to reveal all at a first meeting with people she didn’t know. She glanced down at her hands clasped in her lap to gather her thoughts. She looked back at the six pairs of eyes observing and assessing her demeanor and words. It’s hard to put into words, but I wanted to do more than just write about suffering. I would like to somehow help those who are suffering. However, my skill is investigative journalism so I’m not sure really how to do that–to be neutral and yet also involved.

Phil nodded, Well put. Very hard to do, impossible almost.

Megan felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. Maybe this wasn’t going to go well after all? Maybe it was a pipe dream? Maybe she misunderstood God? However, Megan was not a quitter. She lifted her chin, focused her gaze on Phil, and continued, When I saw the plaque on the church wall thanking an international ministry for investigative journalists who travelled to countries that persecuted Christians, I researched you. A listing on a ministry website says that you're a group of journalists that publish stories to make the free world aware of the abuse and pressure governments into releasing believers from jails and torture. It said your organization was devoted to telling the truth and setting the captives free. Since you are based right here in Atlanta, I was intrigued. So, with some of my ‘investigative skills’ and some ‘networking’ I found my way to this secret spot for a job interview.

Phil nodded. And we're happy to have you here. Let me introduce you to Raymond Standifer, our other director. Raymond, do you have something to say? The other middle-aged man with wavy salt and pepper hair had the look of a former military officer. Yes. We’re all Christians and almost all journalists or former journalists. Our mission is pretty much as you described. However, we also are finding more and more of a need for our ministry here in the States. In fact, our opponents are growing in this country. We used to be open and send out prayer emails for our missionaries but no more. They were targeted, and some lost their lives. The enemy is very savvy with anything digital and has friends in many of the tech companies. We publish our stories through many outlets, both print and broadcast, about persecution but protect our sources and ourselves.

Anna leaned forward. This can be a dangerous job, Megan. There are many ways to help others who are suffering. You need to think how much you're willing to risk. This might not be what you're looking for.

Megan smiled slightly. Risk? Well, traveling around foreign countries during a war and trying to cover riots is not exactly safe.

Phil said, But you were working for a world-famous newspaper that had a big organization with attorneys and political power behind you. We're a small group with some funding, but not a lot. Our reliance is on God.

Megan looked at him. God is where I’ve always put my trust since I was a young girl. Besides, this isn’t a safe life. Just look at driving the interstate in Atlanta. Tragedy can strike anytime.

Raymond raised his eyebrows. True, but the odds go up when an enemy is seeking you out. So far, the interstate has not tracked me down, even allowing for road rage.

Megan nodded. There was not anything else she could say at this point. They either thought her a good candidate or they didn’t.

The older woman with short white hair spoke. We don’t doubt your courage, Megan. We just want you to understand the risks. In my country, there's a bounty on my head. They're willing to seek me out here. I live my life with one eye open and a prayer never far from my lips. It’s not just a trip overseas or an article to write and turn in to an editor. It’s sometimes a lifestyle. She smiled and said, My name is Zara, by the way. At least it’s the one I go by.

Megan looked at her thoughtfully. "It’s nice to meet you. But you ask me to evaluate a risk on something I don’t really know much about. I know you expose persecution, but that’s a little vague. Do I go to a country and get to know the people to look for stories? Do you have contacts that alert you to an issue? And how do you publish to the public if your organization is so secret?

Phil said, Great questions. We have established contacts. Sometimes you would go to a country as you did with the newspaper. But much of our work is investigating the corruption that often goes with the persecution. We turn that over to certain politicians or ministries that are set up to publicize these atrocities and arrests. And sometimes, it’s not about persecution but telling a story about good things that are happening in a country. Often this good news takes the form of telling one person’s story and how Jesus has changed their life or village. Your role is to take the information, or source as you’d call it, confirm it for accuracy and then write it into a story that grips people’s emotions and minds and helps them care. It helps our readers know to pray about a particular situation or even donate to some causes.

Zara added, You may want to think of us as a 'truth' ministry. We tell the truth to set the captives free. Truth that most people would not hear without our investigations, research, and writing.

Megan asked, How much travel would there be?

Raymond replied, Not as much as you’ve done for the newspaper. You can’t go in and announce yourself as a journalist and ask to interview corrupt people for an unknown ministry. You might go in as a journalist but secretly for other purposes. In fact, it’s usually better to have locals do the research and listening as they blend in and bring you the information. Then you develop other sources to confirm it. Also, much of what we would ask you to do here at the beginning is focus on this country. Right now, we're trying to expose the problem of human trafficking here in the Southeast, especially Atlanta.

Megan narrowed her eyes. I thought that was well documented. I’ve heard a lot of stories in the news and of ministries that minister to survivors.

Anna sighed. Some of those stories have come from us, but the news services generally hit the highlights and report arrests. We want to go deeper to find and expose the higher-level criminals and methods. We find the proof, not like a police detective only to arrest, but also to shed light on the practice to warn the vulnerable and reveal the need for prayer.

Zara grinned. If you like mysteries, you would like this.

Megan grinned back, I would not call solving mysteries my ideal dream job or even a career choice, but I'll do it to help others. Well, I don’t have any more questions. I’m in if you want me. I did get the information on salary, and I’ll only say that I expect the rewards to be spiritual not financial.

The others laughed and Anna said, That’s fortunate. However, you can still do freelance articles on your own and as a cover for us if you choose to earn more income that way. Does anyone have any other questions for Megan?

No one did. Phil smiled, Megan we discussed your application and expertise and prayed for God’s direction before we asked you to the interview. We would love to have you join our ministry. Our only concern is that you understand the dangers and the nature of the work and that your motivation to work here is based on your Christian faith. I think you’ve relieved us on both concerns.

Megan said, I would love to work here. I, too, feel led by God to this spot at this time in my life for this cause.

Phil responded, OK. Let’s introduce you to the last two members at the table.

The very young man with the blonde hair hanging in front of his eyes said, He’s saved the best for last.

Raymond remarked, And the most humble.

Phil continued, Our humble coworker is TC. He’s a genius at computers and earned a computer science degree before finishing high school. After some unfortunate lessons learned in hacking, God turned his life around and pushed him in our direction.

Nice to meet you, TC. Do the initials stand for anything? Megan asked.

Just an anonymous tag for my online presence. I do a lot of the digital research for the stories and keep our computer security procedures tight here.

Phil added, And our other coworker is Bree who also does a lot with computer research but also marketing.

Marketing? But I thought this was low profile here! exclaimed Megan.

Bree explained, Marketing includes knowing which markets and social media platforms to insert our information in so that it gets to the right people. Also, sometimes we need to counter false information and smear campaigns. Phil and Raymond have the contacts for ministries and politicians and others to get action on a problem, but sometimes we want to diffuse and spread God’s truth in a broader way at once.

Phil said, Bree and TC often work together on projects. They'll help you with your research and stories. Sometimes you don’t have a byline when it’s on the internet.

Megan shrugged. Good thing I’m as humble as TC then.

The group laughed. Anna said, We’re really glad to have you here. She glanced at Phil.

He saw her look and said, I think you know that Anna works as our Human Resource director. Some of us have a phone conference shortly, so why don’t we pray and then Anna can introduce Megan to her new office.

Megan bowed her head and listened to Phil’s prayer. She marveled at being in a job where a boss prayed out loud to praise God and asked for His blessing. So different from her New York newspaper work experience. Perhaps she was right earlier. She had walked through a door to a new world and a new life.

CHAPTER 2

Megan stepped out of the building into the deepening dusk of a spring evening. Few cars were in the parking lot. She heard the roar of a busy interstate in the distance and watched the headlights of cars streaming past on the street in front of her. Mindful of the group’s warnings of enemies, she looked around. No bushes or trees to hide behind. No one lurking or sitting in the parked cars. She stepped over to her car and paused.

Memories of past overseas assignments flashed through her mind, and she bent cautiously to shine her cell phone light under the car. No easy-to-see incendiary devices. She wondered if she was overly cautious. Had the group made her a bit paranoid? But as the old adage goes, better safe than sorry. She stepped back several yards and clicked the car door open. No surprises.

Megan stepped into the car, locked the door, and drove into the flow of traffic. She wondered what it felt like to drive home with only dinner, family, or which movie to watch on her mind? Would she like a normal eight-to-five job and a family to come home to or even stay home for? Maybe. One day. Now she felt driven to seek and help. Danger? Well, she didn’t seek that, but it did add spice to life.

Megan turned into a gated community of nice condominiums and parked in the guest's spot. She opened the door with a spare key, courtesy of her old school friend, Lisa. Now that she had a definite job in Atlanta, she could find her own apartment, or did she want to buy a house? Mmmmm. Was that too settled?

Lisa’s chipper voice interrupted her thoughts. "Hi, stranger! How did it go! Are you hired?

Lisa stood in the kitchen weighing two cell phones in her hands. She was the owner of a successful computer company, not a cook.

Megan grinned. Are you mixing up a batch of Apple goulash tonight?

Ha! Funny. Actually, I’m trying to decide if there’s a difference between the two phones in weight. One was bugged by an overly controlling spouse, and his wife came to us to ask us to examine it. It’s more than just an app, an actual device fit inside it. Difference in weight is a helpful clue to have.

Megan walked back to the guest room to change. That’s a new task for you all. I thought your company developed custom business programs?

We do, but this is for a friend of my co-owner. A tiny GPS tracking and bugging device was added to it.

Megan paused and looked back around the corner. Are you leading him here? Should I dress for hostile company?

"No, of course not. I’ve disabled it, but I’m trying to find some way to for a nontechy person to notice a difference. Lisa sighed and put the phones on the table and turned to open the refrigerator. I feel sorry for her. She has a nice home, children, and a husband who controls where she goes and who she sees. He keeps all their income in his personal account so she is dependent on him."

Megan listened to the litany of the