LEADING TWO LIVES

Before she was arrested for smuggling drugs from Colombia, Laurie Hiett was
a respectable U.S. Army colonel's wife with fast friends.

Few people in Fayetteville, N.C., who met Laurie Hiett will soon forget
her. Not the students in the Spanish course she taught at Westover High
School, who remember when the moody wife of a U.S. Army colonel admitted in
class to a history of smoking dope. Not Mike Fernandez, the jailed cocaine
dealer who says Laurie hung out at his apartment during her lunch breaks.

And certainly not a 25-year-old ex-stripper named Celeste Wilcox, who
describes herself as Hiett's cocaine-snorting "partner in crime." Wilcox
says Laurie needed to escape occasionally from the straitlaced world of
nearby Fort Bragg, where her husband, James, was stationed for two years.
Recalls Wilcox, "She taught me a lot about how to lead two lives."

Laurie Hiett's double life fell apart last summer when she was accused of
sending more than 15 pounds of heroin from Colombia to New York City
through the private mail service of the U.S. Embassy in BogotE1. She had
moved to the Colombian capital in 1998 when her husband, Col. James C.
Hiett, was named head of the embassy's 150-member U.S. Military Group,
which trains Colombians in the finer points of drug interdiction.

But the couple's Colombian chauffeur told U.S. investigators that while the
colonel was at work, Laurie Hiett asked the driver to help her score hard
drugs in Bogota's trendy Zona Rosa district. Then, last May, a random
search of cargo at Miami International Airport uncovered more than 2.5
pounds of drugs in a brown-paper package bearing Laurie Hiett's return
address.

Field tests originally identified the substance as cocaine, but it was
later found to be heroin. Another shipment of heroin was intercepted later.
U.S. authorities believe Hiett shipped six parcels in all, containing drugs
with a street value of about $500,000.

The alleged smuggling operation began to unravel when New York City police
arrested a Colombian national at an apartment where one of Hiett's packages
had been delivered. After U.S. Army investigators confronted her with the
evidence, Hiett surrendered at a federal courthouse in Brooklyn to face
charges of conspiracy to distribute drugs.

She has denied the charges, claiming she sent the parcels without knowing
their contents as a favor to the chauffeur, Jorge Alfonso Ayala, who
dropped out of sight in Colombia after talking to U.S. investigators. Hiett
is currently free on $150,000 bail; if convicted, the 36-year-old mother of
two boys could face a minimum sentence of 10 years in prison.

An Army investigation cleared James Hiett, 47, of wrongdoing in the affair,
and he was transferred out of Colombia at his own request. He declined to
speak with NEWSWEEK, as did his wife.

Her attorney, Paul Lazarus, says she "vehemently" denied the story told by
Ayala. He noted that the chauffeur "is wanted by the authorities and seems
to be a fugitive" and accused him of "attempting to shift blame from himself."

Hiett's arrest deeply embarrassed Washington. Colombia is already the
biggest recipient of U.S. foreign aid outside the Middle East, and some
U.S. officials have spoken of giving it $1.5 billion in military and
civilian assistance over the next three years.

Nearly all the money would go to the war on drugs in Colombia, which
supplies 80 percent of the world's cocaine and two thirds of the heroin
consumed in the United States.

Apart from red faces at the fortresslike U.S. Embassy building in Bogota,
the Hiett affair raises disturbing questions about the assignment of senior
officials and their dependents to sensitive overseas missions. At the court
hearing, Hiett's lawyer conceded she "has had a problem in the past" with
drugs. But her pre-Colombian activities did not disqualify James Hiett from
a coveted assignment in the world's largest cocaine-producing country.

According to a former U.S. ambassador to Colombia and a former American
military adviser there, Hiett's commanding officers knew about his wife's
purported drug usage and passed the information on to the U.S. ambassador
to Colombia, Curtis Kamman, who nonetheless OK'd the colonel's posting.

"The Army said she had gone through [drug] rehab, and he approved Colonel
Hiett on the grounds that she would not be the one working for the
embassy," says the former ambassador. A spokesman for Kamman at the embassy
declined to comment on that report. But the Pentagon's own
security-clearance procedures have fallen short in recent years.

Last August the acting director of the Defense Security Service (DSS),
which conducts the background checks, said "crucial changes" were needed in
its procedures.

According to newspaper accounts, DSS agents were instructed not to
investigate possible drug or alcohol use by military personnel in the
absence of "compelling" evidence.

Laurie Hiett, whose mother is Panamanian, met her future husband in Panama
in the late 1980s when he was assigned to the U.S. Southern Command
headquarters in the Canal Zone. When they first moved to Fayetteville in
1990, Laurie felt out of place in the conservative Southern town.

But she also knew what was expected. She dutifully hosted dinner parties
for her husband's Army colleagues and kept a tidy home. "She'd tell me,
'the old man is back in town; I've got to go do my family thing'," recalls
Mike Fernandez, 34, who is now serving a three-year prison sentence in
North Carolina for cocaine dealing.

But people who knew her then say it was obvious that something was wrong
with Laurie Hiett. They say her alleged drug habit made the slender,
vivacious brunette look older than she really was. Teachers and parents of
students at Fayetteville's Westover High School remember a skittish, flaky
thirtysomething who was popular with some teenagers but made little eye
contact with other adults and could never sit still for long.

"Even in class, she'd be pacing up and down, fidgeting, moving all the
time," says a former security officer at the school. "I never saw her sit
down."

Prone to tearful outbursts in class, she once subdued a particularly unruly
student by kicking him in his private parts. At one point, Colonel Hiett
had to intervene with school officials to save her job after Laurie
disappeared for a few days.

"She was a very unpredictable person, and the students said she was on
something," recalls Eritza Vallejo, a fellow Spanish teacher who shared a
classroom with Hiett. "[The arrest] was not a surprise to anybody at school
because she was so hyper and crazy."

Vallejo says Hiett once gave her an unsolicited tour of Fayetteville's
adult-entertainment clubs and boasted about taking hookers for appointments
with their "clients." Vallejo says Hiett told her she could make extra
money shuttling prostitutes around town.

Wayne Eggleston says his 16-year-old son, Christopher, talked about the
Spanish teacher's public acknowledgment of past marijuana use. "She said
she used to smoke pot, but it was OK because she was a [respectable]
schoolteacher now," he recalls.

When her husband was away from home, friends say, Laurie would plunge into
the seamy side of Fayetteville. One of her friends there was Celeste
Wilcox, an admitted part-time hooker with pink-streaked hair who says she
turned Laurie on to methamphetamines. Hiett's junior by 11 years, Wilcox
recognized a kindred spirit from the moment the two first met in the fall
of 1996.

She recalls how they would sometimes pull all-nighters fueled by speed and
rum-and-Coke cocktails in the living room of the Hietts' two-story house
while the colonel slept in the master bedroom. During one four-day binge at
the Hiett home, Wilcox says, they did headstands while they snorted the
drug and cleaned out each other's nostrils with Vaseline-daubed Q-tips.

"Our relationship was based on drugs, and it was pretty much every day,"
says Wilcox. "When you're a drug addict, you want a partner in crime to
shoot up with or snort a line with, and she loved cocaine."

A change of scenery may have done little to alter Hiett's double lifestyle.
In Colombia she worked on a couple of occasions as a substitute teacher at
a private school favored by embassy staffers. But a member of the school's
parent-teacher board says her "hyper" personality and "negative" attitude
turned off administrators, and she was not asked back.

Outlandish behavior and off-color remarks at receptions reportedly led the
colonel to exile her from the diplomatic social scene. "She was a live
wire," says one of his embassy colleagues. "You see that sometimes in Army
wives. Their husbands are a pretty square group of guys, and the wives can
be the yin to their yang."

Did James Hiett have any inkling about his wife's other life? An
ex-boyfriend of Celeste Wilcox, who says he used speed with Laurie,
believes the colonel was genuinely clueless about his wife's secret habit.
"We used to sit around and feel sorry for the guy because he had no idea,"
he says.

"She was not your average colonel's wife, but he just saw that she was a
happy, fun-loving person." Others aren't so sure. Wilcox claims Laurie once
told her about forcing the colonel to watch her snort a line of cocaine.
"He knew Laurie was a cokehead, he just looked the other way," she insists.

Mike Fernandez says that even at the height of her drug consumption, Hiett
was always aware that her habit could ruin her husband's future. "She loved
him," says the coke dealer, "and she was worried she would endanger his
career." Her premonitions turned out to be right on the money. Today, the
Hietts are living together in Virginia while the colonel plays out the
string of a shattered career in a desk job at Fort Monroe.

Laurie Hiett still awaits her formal indictment. Fernandez unwittingly
foresaw her downfall in a joking aside during one of their last encounters.
"I once told her, 'Hey, you're going to send me some dope [from Colombia],
aren't you?' " he says with a grin.

"She gave me that 'are you stupid?' look." If Laurie Hiett is found guilty
of conspiracy to distribute heroin, she will have many years in a jail cell
to ask herself the same question.