by Andrew Grey
“I don’t think so,” Elliott answered. “If I did, I don’t think I could trust them. I mean, he got to one of my best friends. Who knows how far he’s corrupted others?”
Harry pushed back his chair. “I want to look at what we have and see where we can begin.” He went into the other room. Salvatore wondered if Elliott would go with him, but he sat still, other than his hand gently stroking Buster’s head.
“Let me make a few calls,” Spook said softly. “I don’t know if I can find someone who might know anything, but I’ll try. I also need to contact Carson to see if he knows anything and to make sure there was no serious blowback onto him for what he did for us.” Spook got up from the table and left the room. Bull followed, going in to join Harry.
“I’m sorry, guys,” Elliott said softly. “I shouldn’t have brought all this and dumped it on your shoulders.”
“Yes, you should,” Jeremy said, leaning over the table. “Spook, Bull, and Harry, they all need things like this every now and then.” He looked to the others, who nodded.
“God, if Bull didn’t have someone to protect or some puzzle to unravel, I swear he’d go completely apeshit and I would never get a moment’s peace.” Zach grinned. “It’s part of who they are, especially Bull. When we met, he thought he wanted a quiet life….” Zach snickered. “That didn’t last very long. Spook is the same way. They both lived lives of action and high drama for a long time. You don’t just give that up.”
“But I’m putting you all in danger.”
“It’s happened before, and I suspect it will happen again,” Zach said. “But I think the one who really needs to be afraid is your stepfather. I can tell you that I wouldn’t want to be on the opposite side of these guys. They know what they’re doing.” Zach’s eyes sparkled with pride and sheer love.
“And all I was looking for was a job,” Elliott said quietly.
Zach, Tristan, and Jeremy exchanged conspiratorial looks. “What you found was more than a job. We’re a family.” Zach came around the table and hugged Elliott from behind. Then he hugged Salvatore as well, before sitting back down.
“I wonder if there’s anything I can do to help,” Elliott said.
“There is. Let’s clear the table and put the dishes away. Then I’ll get out the cards.” When Salvatore did a double take, Zach rolled his eyes. “When they get like this, it’s best to stay out of their way.”
“I’ll make a pitcher of margaritas,” Jeremy offered, and off they went with a burst of energy.
Salvatore helped with the dishes and then joined Spook as he came back inside. They went into the living room, where papers had been sorted all over the floor.
“Don’t move too quickly,” Harry said as he continued adding papers to piles.
Elliott came in and sat in the chair farthest away, Buster jumping into his lap. “What do we have so far?”
“A number of shipping invoices, some contracts, as well as the write-ups for real estate deals. Those seem pretty normal as far as I can see.” Harry began laying out the shipping manifests. “All of these are shipments from either Canada or Mexico, and they’re large shipments of pottery and coffee, whole semi loads.”
“Do you think there’s something wrong with them?” Salvatore asked.
“The manifests… no.” Harry worked his way through another pile and handed him a purchase order. “This is what was bought versus what was shipped.” He took the invoice and showed it to Elliott. “He shipped sixty large boxes and sixty pots. Only the pots are twelve inches high. It’s likely there was something else in those cartons. That’s the first one I’ve found.”
“Should we try to match up others?” Salvatore asked, slipping onto the floor to try to match invoices to shipments. Elliott did the same, and soon they had paired up a number of others. It didn’t take much for Salvatore to see the pattern. With each shipment, there seemed to be legitimate items, but they were shipped in oversize cartons. He’d like to know what was being included with them.
Elliott whooped and handed Harry an invoice. “Look at the delivery date on this one. It’s next week. That means it’s in transit. Whatever is in this truck is currently on the road on its way. The delivery location is one of Antonio’s supposedly legitimate businesses. I bet they take delivery, unload the goods, sell the legitimate cargo in the store, and the rest gets passed on to Antonio’s organization. It’s simple, easy, and unless someone actually opens the cartons, they aren’t going to be the wiser. I’ve seen these cases. They come strapped as well, so it’s pretty evident if they’ve been tampered with.”
Bull took the paperwork. “What I don’t understand is if it’s so evident to us, why wouldn’t someone in authority pick up on it easily?”
Harry handed Bull another sheet. “Because this is the paperwork that goes with the shipment. See, it has all the same numbers on there, but instead of a single piece, each item is in dozens. So customs thinks each case contains a dozen items when it only has one in reality.”
“And I bet that there’s a man on the inside who makes sure that whatever gets tested or reviewed is the one case that isn’t faked.” Elliott sighed. “But what is he smuggling? The obvious answer is drugs, but all it takes is one damaged case and the scent is all over the place.”
“Not if it’s packed right,” Bull interjected. “This isn’t some fly-by-night group, but a well-coordinated business.”
“It could be cash,” Spook said. “Or any number of products. Drugs would be the most likely thing with the highest return. But people in shipping and at the borders are looking for drugs in everything that crosses the border. So whatever they are doing needs to be clever and damned good to pass through.”
“These came through Canada,” Elliott said. “And there are miles and miles of border that can be crossed quite easily.”
“True,” Bull said. “But the Canadians are just as vigilant about drugs as we are. They don’t want that stuff in their country any more than we do….” He turned to the others. “Damn….”
“What?” Spook asked.
“What if it’s drugs, but not the kind we’re thinking of?” Bull turned to the others. “Many prescription drugs are a fraction of the cost in Canada or Mexico as compared to here. What if your stepfather is bringing in those types of things and selling them? They would be relatively easy to get, since they are legal… and some don’t need a prescription there like they do here.”
“Do you think so?” Salvatore asked, turning to Elliott, who shrugged.
“If that’s what he’s doing, then there would need to be plenty of money in it for him. Antonio doesn’t do anything unless there’s enough in it to line his greedy pockets.” He smirked. “It sounds almost humanitarian to bring in medications that people need at cheaper prices, but the markup is only going into his pocket.” He sighed. “Though I don’t know. We’re just guessing.” Elliott got up and left the room.
Salvatore sat back as Elliott pulled out a chair and sat at the other table with the guys.
“Is he okay?” Bull asked.
“I don’t know. I think this is really getting to him, and we need to bring this to an end as soon as we can.”
Harry nodded and continued putting papers together. “I’m not getting any indication of what is in the trucks.”
Bull pulled out details on the shipment in transit. “This looks like it will come across the border in Vermont, then to upstate New York.” He grinned. “Which means the truck is going to come right down 81 and then onto the turnpike to Pittsburgh. It’s the most direct route, and it’s going to pass right around Carlisle to do that.” Bull handed Spook the page. “Do you think you can hack the shipping company systems and find out where this truck is?”
“What do you want to do?” Spook asked.
“I’m thinking that if we can get the trucker to rest before entering the turnpike, we can check out the contents of his truck while he’s on a break. Maybe figure out what’s really going on.”
Spo
ok rubbed his hands together. “Let me see what I can do.” He smirked. “And I talked to Carson. It seems that there isn’t much interest in anyone going after Elliott. Apparently, he put the word out for Elliott. He said he can’t guarantee that no one will take the offer, but it should help.”
Salvatore checked on Elliott and then lowered his voice. “So why was someone waiting in my house last night?” This entire situation was becoming enough to give him a splitting headache. It seemed there were more moving pieces than he was able to keep track of.
“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out. I don’t want to leave Jeremy alone, so he and I are going to come to your house tonight. I’m going to keep watch and intercept our visitor if and when he shows up again. But first I need to see if I can find out where our truck is.” Spook snatched his bag from beside the chair and opened his laptop.
Salvatore let him do what he needed to and went to see what Elliott was up to.
“Full house,” Elliott crowed as he walked in, raking the cookies out of the center of the table.
“That cleaned me out,” Tristan said as he pushed back from the table. “Where did you learn to play poker?”
Elliott lowered his gaze. “It was the one thing the bastard ever taught me. I can beat even him most of the time. Of course, he cheats as much as he can, but I know all his tricks.” Elliott divided his winnings back out and ate one of the Oreos that he’d won.
“You’re playing for cookies?” Salvatore asked.
“Sure.” Elliott raised his glass and drank some of the slushy green liquid. “These drinks are kicking my ass, so we figured it was better to play for cookies than money.” He hiccupped and giggled.
“How many of those have you had?” Salvatore wondered if he was going to have to pour Elliott into bed when they got home.
“This is my third, and I think I’ve had enough.” Elliott pushed the glass away. “I want to be buzzed, but not drunk.” He stood and leaned forward, half falling into Salvatore’s arms. “You know, you’re really sexy.” He smiled. “You should see what he has under his shirt. It’s better and tastier than the drinks.” Elliott slapped his hand over his mouth and giggled. “I need to stop. I say stupid shit when I drink.”
“I see that… or hear that, as the case may be.” Salvatore got Elliott back into his seat, went to the sink, and returned with a glass of water. “Eat some more of those cookies… or something.” He wasn’t angry, but Elliott getting drunk had not been part of his plans for the evening. Still, he couldn’t blame him for wanting to dull some of the turmoil of the last week, at least for a little while.
Elliott drank the water and ate some more cookies as they dealt once again. Salvatore watched Elliott play, and it became apparent that he wasn’t as intoxicated as he was pretending. Dang, he hadn’t thought Elliott was that devious, but he supposed that when it came to poker for Oreos, there were no limits as to the things you used on your opponents.
After he raked in the next two pots on bluffs, Elliott sat back, grinning while the others all scowled at him.
“Maybe you need to drink more,” Zach teased.
“I think you guys need to learn to bluff a lot better than you do,” Elliott said. “You guys have more tells than Dear Abby.” He pushed back the chair, and Buster put his front paws onto his legs, lapping at his face. It was clear that Buster wasn’t going to be very far from Elliott, not that Salvatore could blame him. He wanted to be right next to Elliott as well.
“Got it,” Spook said from the other room.
“What?” Elliott asked.
“One of your stepfather’s trucks is going to pass through the area. They want to check it out if they can. Go ahead and play for a little while longer, but I suggest you find some other game.” Salvatore patted Elliott on the shoulder and returned to where Spook was showing Bull his computer.
“The driver has been on the road all day, so he needs to pull off and rest. He’s about half an hour out from the interchange, and I just sent him an email with a coupon for a free shower at one of the truck stops just off 81. My guess is that he’ll stop there.”
“Where did you get the coupon?”
“I found it online and reproduced it, then sent it to him. That company is in some serious need of a security upgrade.” Spook logged out and closed his computer. “That’s all I can do for now. In a few minutes, I’ll check to see where his GPS has him located and we can swing into action.”
“I’m going to stay here and work on these.”
“I was thinking that Salvatore and Spook should go. Spook has the expertise to get in anywhere, and no one is going to mess with Salvatore.”
“I’m going too,” Elliott said from the doorway. “And don’t tell me different. If my stepfather is messed up in something, I want to know what it is.”
“El,” Salvatore said gently.
“Don’t give me that tone,” Elliott snapped. “I know what it means. My mother used it all the time when she didn’t want me to take riding lessons or anything else she was afraid of. It was usually prefaced with ‘But you might get hurt’ or ‘What if something happens? I won’t be able to live with myself.’” Damn, he even walked the walk. “Nope. I’m going.”
Salvatore and Spook exchanged a look. “Fine,” Salvatore said. “But you do what you’re told, and you stay in the car.”
Spook shook his head. “You can be the inside man. I have a picture of the driver from the company records. Once we know he’s there, you can watch for him and signal when he comes out.” Spook turned to him. “We are going to need eyes on the inside.”
“But do what we say.” Salvatore didn’t like this one bit.
Elliott sighed. “Fine, I’ll do what you say as long as it makes sense.” He crossed his arms over his chest, and Spook laughed. Dammit, the dude laughed.
“You’re going to have your hands full, just like the rest of us,” Spook told Salvatore, then checked the time, booted up his computer, and smiled when he brought up the truck’s GPS. “He’s stopping. We had all better go, right now. I don’t know how long he’s going to stop, and if we’re going to do this, it needs to be now.” Spook closed his computer and put it back into his bag. Then he went into the other room and returned with a soft smile on his lips.
“Buster can stay here until you get back,” Zach said.
Elliott knelt down, and Buster hurried over. Elliott loved on him for a few minutes and explained that he wasn’t going to be gone for long. Buster wasn’t buying it and whined at the front door when they left. Salvatore hoped it would be enough to get Elliott to go back inside, but he turned at the car, watching the door before getting in the back seat. “Let’s get over there and find out what the hell is going on.”
“Is he always bossy like that?” Spook asked, and damned if he didn’t have a tilt to his lips that said he meant it in the dirtiest way possible.
“Most of the time, yeah.” Salvatore closed his door and pulled on his seat belt just as Spook backed out of the drive and took off.
“And here I thought you drove fast,” Elliott said as they flew down the freeway. Spook didn’t slow down at the usual speed traps and reached the outskirts of Carlisle in record time, took the freeway off-ramp, turned into the truck stop parking area, and headed around to where dozens of big rigs were parked.
“How do we find it?” Salvatore asked.
“Here’s the truck number. We just have to look for it.” Spook reached in back and handed Elliott the picture. “See if this guy is inside, and if he is, message us. We’re going to check out these trucks and then see what we can find.” Spook pulled to a stop. “You know what to do. Just watch and let us know if you see him and when he decides to leave.” Spook continued around to the side of the building and let Elliott off. As Elliott walked toward the front door, Spook continued back around to where the trucks were, and they started looking.
“Wesley Trucking,” Spook said, and it didn’t take but five minutes before they’d located the t
ruck.
Have you found him? Salvatore texted. We have the truck.
No, Elliott answered.
“Shit,” Salvatore swore under his breath.
Wait, he’s here. Eating in the restaurant with a bag on the seat next to him, Elliott texted, and Salvatore relayed the message to Spook.
“Keep watch, and I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Spook said, and Salvatore nodded, trying to find a place to stay out of the way and not look like he was watching. For the first time in years, he wished he hadn’t quit smoking just after high school. He could light up near the building, and no one would think twice about him being there. It was a perfect way to stay hidden in plain sight. Nonsmokers ignored you and didn’t get too close. Other smokers tended to see you and would maybe join you, but as soon as the cigarette was done, they moved on and didn’t generally remember you at all.
Still, he stood and looked around as though he were waiting for someone, keeping an eye out for anyone coming out of the truck stop to head to their trucks. It seemed it was late enough that only a few trucks arrived, but mostly it looked like the drivers were settled, at least for now.
He’s coming! Elliott sent.
Salvatore strode across the parking area and slipped into the shadow between the trucks and back to where Spook had the back door partly open. “He’s on his way,” he whispered.
“Dammit. There are so many packing layers,” Spook said. “Try to stall him somehow.”
Salvatore returned, trying to think of what he could say or do, short of knocking the guy out. As he approached the front of the truck, the man from the photograph rounded the side of the building, followed by Elliott.
“Sir,” Elliott called, “is this yours?” He held out a wallet. “I found it on the seat inside and thought you might have been sitting there.”
Salvatore stayed in the shadows, smiling. Elliott’s hand twitched a little, but he was probably the only one to know how nervous Elliott was. Otherwise, his voice was steady and he made clear eye contact. Damn, that was the exact look Elliott had when he played poker.
