“That’s quite a leap, Diane, especially since no cocaine was discovered. So where’s the crime?” Sam pushed his heavy sleeves up.
“We’ll get him on the cocaine when it’s found, and we’ll find it.”
Sam sensed the fierce determination that transformed Diane, though it was wishful thinking on her part. She wanted Dan and Lance Silver behind bars as much as he did, but one thing was apparent—for now, these two were untouchable.
“We found something. Excuse me, sir,” one of the agents shouted as he pulled out the stove and lifted a tiny piece of metal, similar to a small watch battery, from the back of the stove.
Jesse stomped in, ripped it out of the young agent’s hand, and held it up. “Probably optical. This is high-end stuff and definitely costs money. My bet, it works on radio frequency. Here’s your leak and how Dan McKenzie knew all about our plan. What do you want to bet, Lance Silver’s behind this?”
Sam wiped his hand over his eyes. “Of course he is. He’s close enough to pick up the radio signal, so while we were at his house bugging it, someone had already planted one here. They expected us. Obviously, what we heard was staged. I knew it was too easy getting in there with his security.”
Sam threw his hands in the air but let them drop just as quickly, his heart pounding in his throat the moment he fully comprehended what had just happened. “Guys, they would have heard Richard. They’d know he was part of the setup. Shit, I just told Marcie that Richard and Maggie are safe, but they won’t be.”
Diane yanked out her cell phone and hurried outside to get a better signal. A few minutes later, she was back. “Dexter’s sending two agents over to Richard’s right now.”
“So now what?” Sam asked.
Jesse yanked his windbreaker off the back of the chair. “I hate to say this, hoss, but I think you’re done. Cut your losses. The drugs are gone. You ain’t going to find them. These guys are untouchable for you.” Jesse jabbed his finger at Sam. “Dan’s got all Marcie’s marijuana. The cocaine never arrived. He needs nothing from her—not anymore. Read the writing on the wall. It’s time for you to make a deal to protect your own before someone gets hurt. Then, go on a vacation.”
“And let him win? What, are you kidding?”
Jesse grabbed Sam by the shirtfront. “Open your eyes. You know dirt when you see it. This case is done for you. Let the DEA build another one against Dan and Lance without you. If you didn’t notice, Dan McKenzie didn’t win. You got the girl.” Jesse slapped Sam on the chest and headed for the door. He gestured to one of the agents who lingered in the doorway. “Come on. Get me to the dock where the DEA guys and Coast Guard are still hanging out. I’ll hitch a ride back with them to the mainland. Then I’m going home to my wife.”
Fire blazed off of Jesse as he jabbed a finger at Diane. “You make sure he listens. This is done. Take a break. There are times you’ve got to cut your losses, admit defeat. This is one of them.” He opened the door, his deep chocolate eyes latching on to Sam before a big sloppy grin plumped out those priceless dimples. “My wife and I expect an invite to the wedding.” Then Jesse left, chuckling while he watched Sam stagger back a few steps as if he’d been bashed over the head.
Chapter Forty-six
Marcie stood behind the fifth wheel in darkness. It was the night of the fire on Dan and Richard’s Gardiner property. Only this time, she lingered in the shadows, watching as Dan and Sandra loaded two hundred pots of marijuana in a horse trailer. She recognized the time; it was before the house burned. She watched her own presence like a doppelganger. In a scene taking place on the other side of the shed, inside Dan’s fifth wheel trailer, she undressed and climbed up into the bunk. She remembered vividly the red T-shirt, carelessly tossed on the worn bench seat before she climbed into bed.
Dan closed up the horse trailer, and Sandra opened the driver’s door while Dan said something behind her. Their arrogant manners were filled with cocky sureness. Marcie couldn’t make out their words. It played out like an old-time movie. Sandra started the truck and slipped out the back way, while Dan closed up the shed and strode to the RV. She remembered now. That night, when he climbed in beside her, his desire for her had been strong, unusually attentive to her needs while he satisfied his. Disconnected, she observed the person she used to be through a veiled connection with Dan—physical only. No emotional or spiritual bond of any goodness lingered there. A murky gray cloud shrouded her third eye. No wonder she couldn’t see through the thick block. But now, as she watched from a safe distance, an awareness formed inside Marcie. Every time he touched her, she allowed him to take her energy. This was her doing. Lying in that RV beside Dan, she coveted the block, and she clung to him while her life force weakened.
She was asleep when Dan crawled out of bed and dressed. He became stronger every time he used her. He softly stepped out and latched the door behind him. Time seemed irrelevant, but Marcie sensed several hours had passed.
Headlights turned off on a black pickup truck, which slipped in from the back of the property. The truck appeared to slither down the rutted dirt road and stopped just before the shed. Whoever was inside killed the inner light before they popped open the door. The pale moon illuminated the figure from the surrounding darkness, Richard.
With his hands fisted, he stepped forward and faced off with Dan. Dan was smug when he reached out and patted Richard’s shoulder, but there was no mistaking the searing fury when Richard knocked his hand away.
Their words appeared heated. From a distance, she bounced in place, up and down, yelling at Richard not to do it. But her voice was silent, and her lips were stuck as if they’d been glued.
Richard nearly knocked Dan over when he brushed around him. The darkness swallowed him up. The air visibly shifted when he entered the rundown, vacant house. When she looked back at Dan, he viewed the house with a coldness she’d never seen portrayed on his face before. Moments later, smoke spiraled from the windows, filling the house, engulfing the entire structure at an accelerated speed. She couldn’t see Richard. She turned in a circle in the darkness. When she turned back to the house, she saw the end of the devastation: the fire department, the sheriff, Richard and Dan, followed by a familiar scene where Richard rigidly walked over to her, physically turned her, and pushed her away. She remembered now the clear warning: “Get out of here.” This time, though, she watched his reaction when she walked away. His face hardened with animosity when he glanced over at Dan. When he looked at her, his eyes softened, as one’s did when you cared deeply for someone.
Time stood still when Elise, Sam’s dead wife, emerged from nowhere, dressed in blue jeans, a white T-shirt and a jean jacket, with a sidearm strapped to her side. Her long blond hair flowed over her shoulders.
This time, confusion filled Elise’s eyes as she held out the palm of her hand. In it was a key to the shop where two hundred potted marijuana plants were stored.
Elise held up her hand, pointing her finger like a gun, taking aim and firing. Except this time, Marcie looked behind her, and she saw the dead grandson of Mama Reine.
She knew now that she had misunderstood. Elise had been part of Dan and Lance Silver’s sideline—making sure the marijuana arrived and distributing it in New Orleans. She had recruited Leon, and when he got greedy, she eliminated him.
Chapter Forty-seven
The early morning sun was just clearing the horizon when Marcie hobbled into the kitchen. Diane and Sam lingered around the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, both wide eyed as if pumped full of a week’s worth of caffeine.
“Where’s Jesse?”
Sam lifted his foot off the kitchen chair and slid it out with the toe of his black boot. “On his way home. I just got off the phone with him. He’s in Seattle. Plane just landed. His flight to New Orleans will be leaving in a few hours.”
Marcie felt some added layer of protection fall away. She lowered herself in the chair beside Sam. “I don’t understand. I thought he was helping you build a case against
Lance Silver and Dan?”
Sam and Diane shared a knowing look. Sam let out a heavy sigh. He leaned closer to Marcie and linked their fingers. “It’s over, babe. The task force will evaluate whether they want to start again. This case’s blown. The weed’s gone, and who knows where the cocaine ended up.”
“You’re just going to walk away, let Dan get away with this, let him screw some more innocent people? What about Lance Silver? Both he and Dan tried to set you up, Sam.”
“It was a message, Marcie, to back off. And you know what? You and I are out of it. But it doesn’t mean they win. I promise you, neither one will come after me or you again.”
“You can’t be sure of that, Sam.”
He stood up, leaned down and kissed her. “I’ve got to go out for a bit.” Sam grabbed his black windbreaker off a hook by the door and left.
Marcie held out her hands, gaping at the closed door and then at Diane. “What the hell’s that about?”
“He needs some fresh air. Adrenaline’s still pumping. He damn near lost you last night, and I think he’s come to realize what’s really important.”
Marcie’s telephone rang from the front room. Diane jumped up. “I’ll get it.”
Marcie was exhausted and lost in her head as she stared at the door. Sam was her man, a fighter like none she’d ever seen. Her head was still coming to grips with everything that had happened. She felt physically and emotionally derailed from this battle, yet, at the same time, an amazing peace existed inside of her when she realized the link between her and Dan was forever severed. Was Sam out of danger? For the first time since this mess had started, maybe he was. Marcie leapt when Diane touched her hand.
“Didn’t you hear me? Maggie and Richard are on the phone.”
Because it was an old landline, and she still used her granny’s old rotary phone, she had to go into the front room to talk. Marcie shuffled to the phone and picked up the receiver lying on the end table beside the easy chair. “Hi, guys.”
“Are you all right? We heard you went for a swim.”
“I’m fine. Richard, nothing went as planned. Dan knew everything. There’s someone on the inside, isn’t there?” Marcie could hear Diane rattling around in the kitchen.
Richard let out a heavy sigh. “Look, Marcie, there always has been.”
“Sam said we’re done. He doesn’t want to investigate Lance and Dan anymore.”
“Smart man. Maggie and I are out of it, too. That underworld isn’t so black and white, Marcie. Some ties run so deep and powerful—they’re not going to get caught. There’s dark stuff, and many people involved are leading picture-perfect lives. What you see and what is real are two different things.”
“But Dan’s going to get off?”
“Marcie, they have nothing on him. Let it go. He’ll get what’s coming to him, most likely from the same underworld he’s screwing now. Retribution doesn’t always come in the way we expect, so make peace with what happened. My instincts are pretty good, and I think you’ve found yourself a good man in Sam. Focus on the life you started with him, and forget Dan.”
“Marcie, Richard’s right. Sam risked everything for you, and not once did he turn his back. That alone should tell you how important you are to him. Dan will get his, maybe not now, but someday. Hold on to that while you focus on making yourself happy.”
Marcie sighed. “Richard, what about this contact? Who told you Dan was involved with a cop?”
“Marcie, there are contacts made with dirty cops, airport employees—look, let’s be honest. This is what Dan did. Although he fronted other things, the development project with me and his other rental properties, they’re a disguise for his sideline, which isn’t a sideline. Do you understand? He needs the illusion of respectability to target the innocent. I allowed him to do this, and I chose to ignore it. I’m as guilty as you.”
Richard paused as if struggling for the right words to explain. “Dan knew people with the right contacts. Don’t forget how charismatic he is. I know there’s a state trooper he has some connection with now. This could be the leak on Sam’s team. I don’t know for sure. In New Orleans, he used to have a contact, but we’re going back in time now. All I know is what he told me. She was shot after she eliminated a problem. I didn’t want to know then, and, Marcie, I don’t want to know now. Dan’s been growing marijuana for years, long before you arrived on the scene. You may believe this expansion is new, but that’s just another one of his illusions. You don’t want to play games with him.”
Marcie’s stomach burned with nausea. She shut her eyes, knowing the contact had been Elise and the problem was Mama Reine’s misguided grandson, Leon. “Richard, you’re still partners with Dan. What if he tries to get back at you?”
Maggie’s voice trembled on the other end. “Two agents arrived here last night and stayed. Richard, are we in trouble? Is Dan going to come after us? I told you last night that I have an awful feeling he may try something.”
The phone squealed, two cordless phones too close together. One clicked off. Richard came back on the line. “Sorry, Marcie, this has been an emotional roller coaster for Maggie. She worries too much, and so do you. Everything will be fine. Dan won’t try anything with me. He thinks he’s got one pissed-off partner because he pressured my wife into helping with his illegal drug operation. I’m pretty sure he’ll be the one avoiding me.”
After Marcie said goodbye, she sat in silence and reflected. The last thing she wanted was to upset Maggie. Richard had been right to downplay it. She wondered if Richard might be ignoring a potential problem in Dan or an even worse one in Lance.
Diane cleared her throat. She hovered in the archway. “You okay?”
“You feel like getting some air?”
Chapter Forty-eight
The high wrought-iron gates were propped wide open. Sam drove Marcie’s truck down the long, freshly pebbled driveway. A man wearing a tan, wide-brimmed hat, baggy pants, and a gray wool sweater paused while holding a rake over a pile of leaves on the massive front lawn. The neatly manicured gardens surrounding the house boasted creamy pink and purple hydrangeas, and a prize rose garden filled with blood red and white roses climbing a trellis up the side of the lavish house. Thin smoke plumed from the chimney of what appeared to be the great room, and a creamy gossamer curtain swayed and fell against the large plate-glass window.
Sam parked in the circular driveway right in front of the house. He breathed in deep, coming to peace with what he needed to do. Jesse was right, and Sam missed his wise friend already. This was their chance, Sam and Marcie’s, so he didn’t hesitate for a second as he climbed the stone steps, holding his head high, to the brand new front door. He was positive that this time, the solid white door came equipped with metal reinforcements. It’d be harder to kick in. Sam raised his fist to pound, but the door slid open. He let his hand fall before jamming both hands into his front pockets.
Lance Silver looked more like an aristocrat than the lowlife drug dealer he was. His sandy blond hair was slightly graying, styled and gelled, not a hair out of place. He wore rimless reading glasses, which he pulled off and dangled from his right hand. He wore tan slacks and a cashmere sweater that probably cost more than Sam made in a year. He stepped back, allowing Sam to enter.
The man showed no fear as he closed the door behind Sam, but why should he, with all his well-paid goons surrounding him? Sam’s hands were damp when he unzipped his coat. One of Lance’s men, a tall, dark guy who looked like he pumped steroids, removed Sam’s Glock from its holster.
“Agent Carre, I presume. What can I do for you?” Lance Silver was a man who controlled his emotions, a master really, and Sam couldn’t get a read on what this confident man was thinking.
“I came to make you a deal, one you can’t refuse.”
Lance Silver grinned and ran his tongue over his white, perfectly straight, teeth. “I’m intrigued. First, my man’s going to check you for a wire and more weapons. Then he’ll show you into my study.�
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Sam put his hands on his head while Lance’s man searched him. The man was a mutant, and his face resembled a sheet of steel. His emotions were so carefully controlled. He never spoke but directed Sam down the familiar hallway, the one resembling an art gallery, and into Lance’s warm, eclectic study. It was a room filled with books, floor-to-ceiling windows, and an energy-efficient wood stove.
Lance sat behind his mahogany desk in a high-back, black leather executive chair. He motioned to a shorter padded leather chair on the other side of the desk. Sam could feel the heat from Lance’s man dogging his heels.
“No, I’ll stand, thanks. This won’t take long. You bugged Marcie’s cottage. You knew we’d be waiting for Dan McKenzie and his brother while they exchanged the marijuana for cocaine, so the exchange didn’t happen, and we have no idea where the drugs are. It’s over. You win.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Who’s Dan McKenzie?”
Sam yanked up his black T-shirt, showing his bare, solid chest. “Don’t. There’s no wire. No one’s listening. It’s just you and me coming to an understanding.”
“So what is this understanding, Mr. Carre?”
“I walk away, no more investigating you and your little operation. You leave Marcie alone, and Richard and Maggie, too. Richard’s still Dan’s partner, but I want your word you’ll keep a tight leash on Dan, no more shenanigans. He got the marijuana and the cocaine. We won’t come after him or you again. No more trying to set up Richard, Maggie, Marcie, or even me. You get Dan to stay away from Marcie and to stop pointing the finger at her. Rein Dan in. You and I both know you can do it.”
“What guarantee do I have that you won’t suddenly decide to start a brand-new investigation on me next month or six months from now?”
“I’m handing in my resignation with the DEA today.”
Lance nodded. His hard eyes appeared to contemplate what Sam offered. “Maybe you’d consider coming to work for me. After all, a man with your talent would be a great asset to me. Financially, I’d make it worth your while.”
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