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Authors: Kim McMahill

Tags: #Suspense & Thrillers

A Taste of Tragedy (11 page)

BOOK: A Taste of Tragedy
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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
 

Despite working like a fiend all day to uncover a new lead too important to put aside for the stakeout with Nick, Gordo, and Fitz, nothing popped. Devyn sat in the back of the van, licking the delicious sticky remnants of her second cinnamon roll of the night from her fingers, nearly moaning with ecstasy. Gordo turned around in his seat and watched her dreamily, making Devyn roll her eyes and Nick chuckle.

“Focus,” she said as she made a twirling motion with her fingers, indicating he needed to spin his chair back around and watch the monitors.

They had been sitting two blocks away from their target for over three hours, and no one had shown up to drop off cash at the innocent-looking closed floral shop.

“Maybe we got bad
intel
and should call it a night,” Nick suggested as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked for missed calls.

“The source said one of our well-known dealers would be picking up his inventory tonight. He didn’t say what time. I want to get this over with too, and I don’t want to come back another night, so patience,” Devyn responded. Crinkling her brow, she studied Nick for a moment. “Me asking you to be patient, what gives? You got a hot date or something?”

Nick ignored her which only egged her on. “Come on, Nick, you can tell us. I’m sure Gordo and Fitz won’t tell anyone if you’ve got a new lady. Will you, guys?”

Both young men turned around and shook their heads, agreeing they wouldn’t tell, and then quickly turned back to the screens under Nick’s scolding glare.

“Fine, I’m expecting a call, but it’s not from a ‘new lady.’ Are you happy?”

“I’d be happier if you told me who.”

“It’s personal and none of your business.”

“You are no fun at all. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Hey, hey, hey, look at this,” Gordo and Fitz stuttered excitedly in unison.

Devyn and Nick crowded behind the two tech guys and stared at the screen. This was their man. Several nights ago, Gordo and Fitz had managed to conceal a camera on a nearby building in the back alley, documenting everyone who came to the back door of the floral shop. Earlier in the day, another agent had gone into the shop to purchase flowers for a supposed anniversary and planted an ultra-sensitive listening device as close to the door leading to the back of the shop as possible.

“The sound is real faint since the bug is so far away, but I’m sure we can clean it up and intensify it enough to hear what they’re saying,” Fitz whispered.

“I hope so,” Devyn said. “This guy is just one small fish in a sea of dealers we’re hoping to net.”

“Well, now that we’ve verified the audio and video is working, let’s go nab the guy when he leaves. If we’re correct that the floral shop owner is the supplier, we should find plenty on our buyer to bust him and make him talk. He just got out of the pen less than a month ago, so hopefully, he won’t want to go back, and he’ll be willing to make a deal,” Nick stated.

Devyn and Nick were both dressed in dirty ragged jeans, neither looked as if they had showered in days, and both wore a dark hoodie over their Kevlar® vests. Devyn looked like a once-pretty girl damaged by drugs. Nick wasn’t as convincing playing someone down on his luck, but they hoped it was enough to not draw attention. If anyone witnessed them in the area, they wanted to fit in.

They didn’t plan to approach the dealer until he was far enough away that the supplier wouldn’t be tipped off. They needed to keep the arrest as quiet as possible.

Slipping silently from the van, they took off in opposite directions at a jog, not knowing which way the man would leave once exiting the shop. Devyn quickly got in position and spotted the man heading in her direction. She whispered into her mic, notifying Nick, Fitz, and Gordo of the suspect’s locations. With perfect timing, she stumbled around a corner and bumped into the dealer. She looked up at him with blood-shot eyes—courtesy of some nasty eye drops and too much rubbing—underlined with black circles provided by the agency’s collateral-duty makeup artist.

“S-s-sorry. I didn’t see you.”

The guy smiled, exposing a few missing and rotten teeth. “You looking for company?”

Devyn tried not to look too eager, wanting to seem a little afraid. She made her hands shake and she stuffed them in her pockets as if to hide the symptoms of withdrawal and fear.

“I’d rather party,” she whispered.

The man tilted her chin up and looked her over. “I might be able to help you. You got cash, or were you planning on paying with something else?”

“Depends on what you got.”

The guy pulled a bag out of one pocket, showing off his wares. Before Devyn had to respond, Nick slipped out of the shadows. He grabbed the man’s other arm and twisted it hard behind his back.

“Keep walking. And by the way, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent…”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
 

Despite what
Preston
told her the previous afternoon, Morgan wasn’t satisfied. If MFHG3 was truly the wonder sweetener GCF claimed, why not have an unbiased third party verify its safety?

With Aaron in the weekly executive assistants’ meeting, she decided there was no better time than the present to dig a little deeper. Retrieving the phone number for Smith & Brown Consumer Analytics that she had looked up earlier, she punched the digits into her personal cell phone. She made her way to the far corner of her office, turned, and faced the door to prevent Aaron from sneaking up on her.

Her wait was short. The line was answered on the second ring by a chipper-sounding receptionist inquiring how she could direct the call.

“May I speak with Dexter Fowler, please?”

The line went silent for a moment. The woman finally cleared her throat. “May I ask who’s calling and what this is concerning?”

Morgan noticed that the tone was noticeably less friendly.

“Yes. My name is Morgan Hunter and I’m calling about some work he was doing for my predecessor.”

“Please hold.”

Elevator-type music came over the line for what felt like an eternity. Morgan hoped she hadn’t made a huge mistake by trying to reach Dexter Fowler.

“This is Neil Kimball. I’m the research supervisor. How may I help you?”

Morgan quickly explained that Dexter Fowler was testing a product for Stan Jacobson, whom she had recently replaced, and she just wanted to follow up on the results. She left out all the detrimental details from the e-mails, unaware how much Neil Kimball knew.

She waited, listening to the clicks as the man pecked away at his keyboard.

“We have no record of any work being done for a Stan Jacobson. What company did you say you worked for?”

She hadn’t said and was hesitant to specifically name Giant Cactus Foods in case this man knew Preston Hoyle. If word got back to
Preston
, Morgan had no doubt she would be fired. Besides, what was the likelihood Stan would have specified Giant Cactus Foods if he was having MFHG3 tested on his own without company knowledge and against company procedure?

“If I could just speak to Mr. Fowler and explain the project, I’m sure he’ll know what I’m inquiring about and how it was contracted out.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. Mr. Fowler died in a tragic skiing accident. I can search our records under the company name Mr. Jacobson represented, otherwise I’m not sure how else I can help you.”

Morgan’s knees went weak. She felt the room start to spin. She made her way toward her desk and collapsed in her chair. It took her a moment to clear her head and realize Neil Kimball was waiting for her to speak. She decided to err on the side of caution and divulge nothing else. “Thank you for checking. I am terribly sorry to hear about Mr. Fowler. I appreciate your time.”

Disconnecting, Morgan leaned back in her chair, even more concerned now than she had been before calling. All she had was
Preston
’s word that the supposedly all-natural product was safe. Maybe it was, but the two people who had put the doubt in her mind were dead, and that didn’t set well. She never bought in too quickly to coincidences, especially when so much was at stake.

She wasn’t sure what to do next, but knew that Friday couldn’t come soon enough. The moment she got off work tomorrow, she would head to Sedona again. She no longer had the flash drive or the printed copies of the e-mails, but she had downloaded them onto her personal computer at her weekend home.

Despite how it turned out for Stan, she needed to get a sample of the MFHG3. It wouldn’t be easy to do without someone seeing her. She hated to involve Nick again in something that may be nothing, but he was the only person she could think of who could have the substance analyzed while keeping her involvement quiet, at least for the time being.

If the sample came back as billed, the issue would be closed. If not, she would do what she had to do, even if it cost her career.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
 

The previous evening’s surveillance job and arrest had gone better than Devyn had hoped. They were able to verify that the bugs planted in the floral shop were sufficient to keep tabs on the owner, though conversations would need to be enhanced by the tech guys.

The drug pusher she and Nick arrested took the first deal offered and spilled everything he knew. He admitted the shop owner was his supplier, but he wasn’t sure how much of the city’s drugs were being brought in by this one source. He verified the drugs were coming in through floral shipments from a number of countries.

The listening devices in place would enable the authorities to continue nabbing dealers leaving the facility. Once they had enough
intel
to intercept the shipments coming into the U.S., they could stop the supply train.

With sunglasses still on and clutching a cup of coffee, Devyn walked out of the elevator. She could feel the excitement on the floor. Even though she and Nick hadn’t been involved much until the previous evening’s stakeout, many of the other agents had been working on the case for months, and this was the biggest break they had gotten.

The main supplier had finally been identified and was under twenty-four-seven surveillance, and they were able to hear everything that went on in the shop. From here, they would be able to gather so much evidence even the lamest prosecutor could make charges stick. The next step was to conduct a successful sting on an incoming shipment to get indisputable proof of the supply chain.

“Great job last night. We’d all busted that guy so many times, there was no way we could get close without sending him running. Heard you had him so distracted Nick didn’t even have to pull a gun,” Agent Gardner stated.

“Yep, I’m just that good. I can subdue a dealer with nothing but my charm.”

Laughter rippled through the room. Devyn wasn’t the least bit offended. She just smiled and did her best pageant wave as she proceeded in Nick’s direction.

“How can you look so well-rested after the night we had? I didn’t get to bed until almost four,” Devyn stated as she removed her sunglasses and ran her fingers through still-damp hair.

“I think the question is how can you look so bad when you didn’t roll in here until nearly 10:00 a. m.?”

“Funny. I need my full eight hours. Do the math. I didn’t get it.”

“I wasn’t thrilled about working so late either, but it’s part of the job, and we were able to get everything set up to keep the investigation on track. Unless someone screws up, I’d say it’s just a matter of time before we put a major dent in drugs coming in and out of the city.”

“Well, hopefully, our comrades can take it from here,” Devyn replied as she logged into her computer to see if any updates had been made to the Risky Research case folder.

“Nothing new. I already checked two hours ago. I did have a message from the guys down in tech and they might have a hit on a woman matching Janice Green’s description at the airport about the time we figure she left town. You want to head down there with me and take a look at what they got? The message said the image was spit out when they ran the airport’s security footage through facial recognition software.”

Devyn saw nothing important in her e-mail and there were no new voice messages since last night, so she grabbed her coffee and fell in stride with Nick.

“So, did you ever get your call?”

“What?”

“Last night, right before our guy showed up, you said you were expecting a call.”

“Wow, you’re barely functioning this morning and you remember that.”

“Call it a gift. So, did you get your call?”

Nick hesitated for a moment. He had listened to Morgan’s voice message probably ten times when he got home early this morning. She said her boss verified things were fine and that he didn’t need to call her back, but she didn’t sound fine. It wasn’t his job to worry about her any more. She basically fired him from that position, but he couldn’t help himself. He had been debating about letting it drop or calling her back anyway. He didn’t want to seem needy, but his gut told him there was more to the story than Morgan was telling him. He couldn’t live with himself if she was in danger and he didn’t act out of stubborn pride.

“Earth to Nick.”

“Left a message while we were making the bust.”

“You are so frustrating. Couldn’t you at least give me a
he
left or a
she
left?”

“So, have you talked to Sheriff Harris this morning?”

She could take a hint—no talking about his call if she didn’t want to talk about Gage. Sure, she didn’t really like to discuss her feelings or personal life either, but the lack of non-work conversation didn’t seem normal for a healthy partnership of any kind.

Everyone, including Nick, always felt free to discuss her lack of social graces and feminine charm. They all treated her as if she had no sensitivities, but she had to admit it hurt a bit that Nick didn’t trust her with his personal life.

“After you,” he said as he held the door to the computer room open for her.

She scowled at him as she passed, but by the distant look in his eyes, she knew he didn’t even notice. Inattention was not like Nick, and it confirmed her suspicion that something was bothering him.

Maybe she would have to work on her interpersonal skills, and quickly. If Nick had a problem, she wanted to make him talk. He had accomplished something no one else in her career had managed to—stick with her. For that she owed him. Not only did she truly care about her partner and want to help him, she needed to prove to herself that she could be in a healthy relationship with another person.

If I can’t be in a normal relationship with Nick, is there any hope for me and Gage?

BOOK: A Taste of Tragedy
5.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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