by Al Boudreau
Unfortunately, after bouncing scheme after scheme around inside my gray matter, the idea I figured would be most effective was also the one I was least comfortable with.
Reason being: it involved using only Sarah.
Not that I had any doubts about her abilities. She was good---and in some ways better than I was---at coaxing information out of people. But, it always gave me pause to send her into a situation involving variables and risk.
I finished up in the shower, climbed out, and got myself dressed. I decided to let my thoughts about tonight’s game plan marinate until Sarah returned, and shifted my focus to my earlier encounter with Jason Taylor.
I wasn’t any closer now to figuring out the guy’s angle than I’d been 5 seconds after he walked out the front door. Was he feeding me a line, hoping I’d let my guard down as he carried out some covert duties? Or, was he on the level, just doing his job while seeing to it his parents were well taken care of?
“Carter? You upstairs?” Sarah called out. “I’ve got our stuff. Let’s watch this video.”
By the time I got down to my office Sarah had organized the electronics, and was busy plugging in cords so we could see the results of our early morning recon. “I like when you take charge,” I said.
Without stopping to look at me, Sarah asked, “Are you just doing your Mr. Smarty Pants routine, or are you actually paying me a bona fide compliment?”
“Aw … I’m hurt you’d accuse me of such a thing,” I said, giving her an ear-to-ear grin as she finished hooking up the components. “All kidding aside, I think you’re a star. In fact, I have a proposal for how to approach Hall and get what we need from him. It relies heavily on you.”
“Huh. Do tell,” she said.
“I will. Let’s get through this footage first.”
“Oh, sure, keep me in suspense. Of course, it may not even matter, because this plan begins with one gigantic variable. Hall might have other plans tonight. He doesn’t live at The Ferry Landing, you know.”
I pulled out my phone, did a quick scan of Hall’s latest social media posts, and began laughing. “Well, he was definitely there, living it up, last night. Got the pictures to prove it.”
Sarah took a peek. “Wow. He looks like quite a boozer. Thing is, going out drinking on a Saturday night is common. Sunday nights are different.”
“Yeah, for people who work,” I said.
“Okay, you got me there. Maybe we’ll luck out,” she said, then started the video.
I sat down at my desk and began watching the footage. “Got to love that new camera I bought. Look how clear the picture is.”
“The detail is pretty amazing, considering we were hundreds of feet away,” Sarah said. “Looks like we were standing right next to those guys when we shot this.”
We watched the rest of the video in silence, the only sound being that of my heart pounding as the footage neared the end. Seeing that Homeland boat preparing to race toward our position made the adrenaline rush I’d experienced this morning come back for a second round.
Sarah hit rewind as the picture went blank. “Want to watch it again?”
“Nah, not right now,” I said as I filled my lungs to the hilt then exhaled. “I’m convinced, after seeing this video, that the guy standing on the Sandakan Sun is the same person who dropped the crate on Frenchie Taylor.”
“I think so, too. Plus, now we know what the other guy on the Homeland Security boat looks like.”
“Yep. His last name is Borden. Saw it on his uniform.”
Sarah nodded. “Question. Now that we’ve watched this video, do you think doing the stakeout was worth the risk?”
“Tough to make that kind of assessment so early in the case, but it may become key as we peel back the onion.”
Sarah nodded, followed by a grin. “Okay. So, tell me. What was your idea for Hall and The Ferry Landing tonight?”
I hesitated. Did I really want to go through with it? I knew Sarah well. Once I planted the seed, if she was excited about it, there’d be no turning back. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on, Carter. You can’t throw a teaser like that out there, then just change your mind. Let’s hear it.”
“All right. There are two pieces of information critical to this case if we expect to make any leeway. We need to find out who Keef Hall was talking to the night Everett Shapleigh overheard that conversation. More importantly, we need to figure out what the term milk run means. The hard part involves getting the information out of him without having to explain why we need to know.”
“I’m with you so far. We somehow work milk run into the conversation and see where it goes, right?”
“Basically. Easier said than done, however.”
“But, you have a plan. One that relies heavily on me.”
“Kind of wish I hadn’t mentioned that part till I thought it through a little better.”
“Carter.”
“OK. OK. So, what if we have you strike up a conversation with Hall? You know, get him comfortable. Talk about nothing in particular. Then, once you get the sense it’s safe to broach the subject, maybe hit him up for a joint.”
Sarah started laughing. “Really? I’m shocked you’d be up for having me do that.”
“Yeah, well. Me, too.”
“OK, go on.”
I spun my desk chair around, grabbed Sarah by the waist, and sat her down in my lap. “This is where things could get a little dicey. There’s a good chance Hall will ask how you know he deals dope. So, you tell him you had a conversation with a guy at The Ferry Landing a while back. He’ll want to know who. You tell him you don’t remember the guy’s name, but you do remember a cool story the guy shared---and made you promise not to tell.”
Sarah smiled and nodded. “He’ll ask what the story was. I’ll tell him I don’t remember much, but it had to do with Moray Towing and the milk run.”
“Yep. Now, here’s the thing. Once you hit him up for a joint, he’s definitely going to want you to go smoke weed with him. No question in my mind. So, this is important. Do you know how to take a hit off a joint without inhaling?”
Sarah scrunched up her face. “No. How on earth would I know how to do that?”
I pursed my lips. “That’s what I was afraid of.” I paused to think for a moment. “Okay. We can grab a pack of cigarettes on the way to the bar. You’ll definitely need to practice before we can go through with this.”
“Cigarettes? Gross.”
“There’s no other way, Sarah. Do it wrong, you’re going to get high. That happens, the whole plan goes down the drain.”
“OK, but … well, do you really think he’s going to ask me to smoke pot? Can’t I just say no? That I have to work later, or something like that?”
“Depends. Do you want him to buy into this little scam we’re running, or do you want him to see right through you?”
“Fine,” she said. “We’ll do it your way.”
* * *
“Shouldn’t we be doing this outside of the car?” Sarah asked as I lit the cigarette and held it out in front of her.
“This parking spot is less than thirty feet from The Ferry Landing. You start coughing and hacking like a total seventh grader, people are going to take notice. We’ll be blown.”
“Can’t we go practice this inhaling nonsense somewhere else, then?” she asked while waving the smoke away from her face.
“This is an ideal spot to keep an eye out for Hall, and for me to keep an eye on you if you end up outside with the guy later on. I can see the front and both sides of the building. Precisely why I wanted to get here early. We leave now, this parking spot’s gone.”
“Fine,” she said. “Give me that thing. Let’s get this over with.”
“Hold your horses, would you?” I rolled my window down to get rid of some of the smoke. “I have to talk you through it. It’s not as easy as it looks.”
“OK. So, how do you know how to do it?”
“C’mon, Sarah. It’
s not like I’ve never smoked before.”
She handed it back to me. “You first.”
I held the butt up to my lips, sucked in---and immediately began coughing like an outboard motor starving for fuel.
Sarah burst out laughing. “Nice. Way to go with my first lesson, there, Smokey Peterson.”
I pulled myself together and gave it another try. This time it worked. I blew the smoke out the window and handed the cigarette to Sarah. “So … treat it almost as if you were giving it a kiss. The idea is to draw air into your mouth, not your lungs.”
Sarah held it to her lips and gave it a shot. The tip of the cigarette barely glowed, telling me she wasn’t doing it right. She exhaled and a tiny wisp of smoke left the confines of her mouth.
“Try it again. With more suction, this time.”
Sarah nodded and obliged, the tip of the cigarette glowing bright red. A decent amount of smoke came rushing out as she exhaled and let go a single cough. “Blah. I think I got some smoke in my lungs.”
“Tough to avoid a little bit,” I said. “Great job. Really great, actually. I think that’ll get us by.”
“Good, because I’m done with this,” she said, handing the cigarette back to me. “I just don’t understand why people smoke.”
I ground the tip out on the bottom of my heel then tossed it onto the floor mat. “It’s getting close to ten o’clock. I don’t want you to be in there forever, but I don’t want to miss Hall, either.”
“Let me go inside to see if he’s there. If so, I’ll stay and work our plan. If not, I’ll ask for directions then come back out.”
“Perfect,” I said. She grabbed the door handle with one hand as I reached out for the other. “Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Got your phone and your pepper spray?” I asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“OK. If I don’t see you within a few minutes, I’ll assume you found him. Be careful, Sarah. I’ll be right here.”
“Stop worrying,” she said. “I’ve got this.”
Chapter 21
I needed to stop watching the clock. Sarah had been inside The Ferry Landing for 20 minutes now---about the same number of times I’d glanced at my phone.
She was strong and capable, but I worried just the same. When we first started working together, my concern for her was constant. I figured it was normal back then---and would eventually get easier. Now, after four plus years, it had only gotten worse.
Guess love does that to a man.
I checked the time again then leaned back, doing my best to calm down while fighting the urge to close my eyes. I was beat, wishing I could just go inside and whisper in her ear that we were done, then leave together, bound for home.
It was a nice fantasy.
As I sat waiting and wondering, a spark inside my head did nothing but make matters worse. If I’d been on top of my game while planning our little scheme, I could have set Sarah up with a wire. If I had, I’d be sitting here listening to all that was going on instead of being in the dark. Apparently, my lack of sleep, coupled with the fact I was getting older, wasn’t a winning combination.
I got out of the car to get some fresh air, the stench of leftover cigarette smoke too much to take. I was about to take a quick walk across the street when it dawned on me---my phone was still on the dashboard.
I grabbed the device and walked off, pretending to be interested in the glowing geese screensaver while maintaining sight of The Ferry Landing’s exit door. I reached inside my jacket as soon as I got to the other side, pulled out the pack of cigarettes, and lit another one up. There were a handful of folks, a dozen or so steps away, doing the same out in front of a swanky wine bar that had just opened. I looked like I fit right in.
I began pacing, wondering what was keeping Sarah. She should have come out by now. I felt the urge to call her, but didn’t want to interfere with our charade. I put the cigarette to my lips and took a real pull, thinking it might calm me down a bit. I immediately began coughing---so heavily I almost didn’t hear the chiming of the text indicator on my phone.
It was Sarah. Coming out now. Casually bump into me outside the bar.
I pinched the smoldering tip off of my cigarette, stomped it out, and dropped the unlit portion into my jacket pocket. I jogged across the street to avoid getting held up by traffic, reaching the other side just as Sarah stepped out---along with two men.
I recognized Keef Hall right away, but had no idea who the second guy was.
Sarah waved and called out to me. “Hey, there’s the birthday boy. Come join us. We’re gonna head out back.”
I waved and approached the trio while keeping my mouth shut. I had no idea what Sarah had going, but figured she’d make it clear.
“Hey, Jim,” Hall said as he looked me up and down, his voice as raspy and raw as I’d expect a chronic dope smoker’s to be. “Happy birthday, man.”
“Thanks,” I said while giving Sarah a knowing glance.
“Wally … say hello to Jim Peters,” Sarah said to the second guy.
“What’s up, man? Heard you were looking to score a spinner.”
“Uh, yeah,” I replied.
Hall slapped me on the shoulder. “Sorry, Jimbo. Supply is a little scarce right now, but we’ll toke on this one. You can keep the roach, afterwards. Sound good?”
I took a look at the joint and gave him an enthusiastic nod. “Definitely. Much appreciated.”
Hall nodded. “Sarah, here, tells me she doesn’t burn. You two, being a couple and all---I can’t believe you haven’t changed her wicked ways.”
“Working on it,” I replied.
“You’re gonna like this stuff, man,” Wally chimed in. “Northern lights. Nice mellow buzz.”
Sarah looked nervous as we stopped and congregated behind the bar.
Meanwhile, Hall took a quick look around then wasted no time in getting the party started. “Here you go, birthday boy,” he said as he handed me the joint and a lighter. “You get to do the honors.”
Now, I was the nervous one. I’d never once smoked pot during my entire life, but had serious doubts my spotless record would stand after tonight. There was no way I was getting this thing lit without inhaling.
I held the joint up in front of me, gave Hall a nod and a smile, and fired it up. It was everything I could do to refrain from coughing up a lung as smoke streamed from my nostrils. I knew enough to hold it in for a few seconds before exhaling. Doing any different would have exposed me as the poser I was.
I passed the joint to Hall, along with his lighter, then let go a cloud of smoke that surprised all of us.
“Good hit, man,” Wally said as he backhanded me in the chest.
I could see Sarah struggling to maintain her composure as she looked on, entertained and mortified.
Hall took a hit then offered it to Sarah.
“Nope. Not this girl,” she said and pointed toward Wally. “His turn.”
“Yeah, man,” he said, snatching the joint from Hall’s fingertips. “I’ll hit that.” He took a hard pull and immediately began coughing.
Hall shook his head and smiled at me. “Amateur,” he said, motioning toward his buddy.
Looks like I’d passed the test. I began feeling a little light headed, taking two more turns before declining.
Then there were two.
I stood in awe as Hall and Wally managed to smoke the thing down to practically nothing before snuffing it.
“Here you go, Jimbo,” Hall said as he handed me the roach. “For later. Enjoy.”
“Thank you,” I said and dropped it inside my jacket pocket.
“You two coming back in for a pop?” Wally asked.
I looked at Sarah, no idea whether or not she’d managed to get the information we came here for.
“I’ve got to work tomorrow, and so does Jimbo, here,” Sarah said. “But, I’m sure we’ll see you two again next weekend.”
“Yeah, no doubt,” Hall said. “We’ll be here. Like I
told you inside, we’ll have a decent stock of buddage by then.”
“Good deal,” Sarah said, then turned to me. “Okay, birthday boy. Let’s get you and your pot home.”
Chapter 22
I handed Sarah the car keys as we crossed The Ferry Landing’s parking lot, headed toward the car. “You’d better drive.”
“You mad?” Sarah asked.
“Mad? No. Stoned? A little.”
“I’m sorry, Carter. It wasn’t intentional. The conversation took a turn and I had to roll with it. To get what we needed.”
“You got the information?”
“I did,” Sarah said, beaming. “Well, kinda. I still don’t know what it is, exactly, but I did get some information about the milk run. And a name. Well, a first name. But, we can easily find out the milk run guy’s last name. Turns out he’s Keef Hall’s brother-in-law.” Sarah started the car and began driving back toward our place.
“Wouldn’t waste your breath going into too much more detail, tonight,” I said. Doubt I’d remember half by morning. Give me, uh … bullet points.”
“I’d be happy to, but give me a couple minutes to recover, first. That whole encounter was a little surreal. My heart is still racing.”
“Yep. No worries. Whenever you’re ready.”
* * *
“Let’s go in,” I heard Sarah say as she jostled me awake.
My face was cold and I couldn’t quite understand why---until I looked up and saw stars over Sarah’s shoulder. “Where’d we go?”
“What?”
“Where’d we go? Why did it take so long?”
“We drove straight home from The Ferry Landing,” Sarah said, then let go a giggle. “You’ve been out for a grand total of fifteen minutes, silly.”
“Nah. Not possible.”
Sarah shook her head and patted me on the shoulder. “Whatever you say, handsome.”
I swung my legs out of the car and stood up. “I just had the most vivid dream. Could have sworn I was out for hours.”
“The dope might have something to do with that,” Sarah replied.
