Page 47 of Secret Triplets for Christmas

She didn’t respond.

“We have learned that Liam may have been working with the FBI,” Oliver said.

“I see. For what reason?”

I was confused. We were here for information, but instead, we seemed to be giving it.

“I don’t know for sure, but we suspect it was an identity theft scam that targeted foster children.”

“Did Liam tell you this?”

I found it interesting that Agent Marsden used Liam’s first name. Had she known him? Was she the agent he’d been talking to?

“No.” Oliver looked down, and I could feel his guilt and regret at not knowing what Liam was doing before he died. I put my hand on his and gave it a squeeze to comfort him.

He glanced at me, giving me a wan smile.

“He was killed before I knew anything about it.”

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing, and I wondered what she was looking for as she scrutinized us. “It’s been some time. Why are you here now?”

“As I said, we want answers.” Oliver didn’t hide his annoyance that Agent Marsden was being so evasive.

“Answers to what?”

“What the hell?” Oliver let out an exasperated breath. “If you don’t know anything, you could have told me that on the phone.”

“What answers do you think we have, Mr. Quinlan?” Agent Marsden didn’t seem fazed by Oliver’s outburst.

“My brother was murdered, and at the time, he was apparently talking to the FBI. I want to know if that’s true. I want to know what was going on and why five years later someone thinks I or Lindsay have something of Liam’s.”

Agent Marsden’s brows rose, the first sign of interest in us. “Has anyone been in touch with you? Who?”

Oliver leaned forward. “Is it true? Was Liam talking to you?”

"Have you found anything unusual in Liam's belongings since his death?"

I glanced at Oliver, knowing he had to be irritated that she was ignoring our questions.

“No,” Oliver said through gritted teeth.

Agent Marsden turned her attention to me as if she wanted me to answer the question. I shook my head.

“What makes you think he was talking to the FBI?”

“Are you going to help us?” Oliver was about at the end of his rope with the agent.

“Rumors,” I said, thinking if we answered her questions, maybe she’d answer ours. “Oliver was told that the people Liam was hanging around that time were suspicious of him. One specifically mentioned that he might have been talking to the FBI.”

Oliver glanced at me, and I got the feeling he didn’t like my revealing so much, but how could we get answers if we didn’t play along?

“Did they know why they suspected Liam?”

Oliver sat back in his chair, practically rolling his eyes in irritation. “Liam’s last foster family was apparently part of the same crew Liam was hanging around with. Wally Creighton was apparently stealing and then selling the social security numbers of his foster kids. Liam was likely one of them. I’m sure Liam was pissed to find out Wally was the one who fucked up his credit.”

Agent Marsden tapped her fingers on the folder as she considered what Oliver shared. “Why didn’t he go to the police?”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Oliver stood and paced the room. I’d never seen him like this. I wished there was something I could do to help him. “You’re the fucking FBI. You know how identity theft works. No one gives a shit. The only reason to tell the police is to have the report sent to credit reporting agencies. No one investigates it. The Department of Social Services doesn’t do anything. And clearly, you don’t either.” Oliver looked at me. “This was a waste of time, Linds. Let’s go.”

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