"Ouch, man, that had to suck."
"No worse than trying to get Clare to stop fussing at me. The woman does not like anyone in her space." Erik stood inside the door and stared at the raised beds.
"How does she reach the panels in the ceiling?" Brody walked into the building and his eyes scanned everything. There were a couple bags of natural fertilizer stacked under a workbench and three of the empty planting pallets sitting on top.
Erik glanced up. "With this." He reached to the back of one of the raised beds and grabbed a long stick to demonstrate how to open a venting panel.
Brody took the time to duck down and inspect the lower shelves. There was nothing he could see. "You said you had irrigation?"
"Yeah, over here." Erik showed him the small control panel and the hose system which worked through each of the beds.
"This is amazing." Brody stood with his arms crossed.
"And it isn't hard to do. You can get smaller ones, but you've met Clare. Only the best will do." Erik shrugged and glanced at the house.
"I'm that one in our relationship. Amber was content living in a tiny ranch-style house. The backyard was the biggest thing about the place where she used to live." He smiled at the memory of Gage catching the football. Damn, he really wanted to see his son again in person, not on FaceTime or a voice call with him on the phone, although he was seeing sides of Gage it probably would have taken a few months to discover. He was a good kid, watched out for his friends and had his priorities right. He loved to play, was a good student, and was good to his family. He knew this because his entire family had been texting him. And it chapped his ass. He wanted to be the one spending time with Gage, but work kept him away. Hell, he didn't know how Amber had done it for so many years. Her sister was a champ, but she was also happy to let others help out. Thankfully, his family, and even Sharon McBride, had taken turns picking Gage up from school and watched him on the weekends so Dawn could have some free time.
"I didn't mind where we were living before, but Clare hated it. When the opportunity for this promotion came up, and I was asked to submit for it, I didn't think I stood a chance to compete, let alone get the promotion. I think the fact I didn't mind flying as long as the company reimbursed me for my fuel was the thing which finally won the boss over. Having boots on the ground is important."
"It is. That's why I've got the Vision. Sometimes you need to see for yourself where people are landing."
Erik nodded toward the door. "I know exactly what you mean, although I have no idea why my boss pays me so much to do the same thing I used to do. He only needed to pay for my fuel and a per diem so I can keep Piper healthy."
"Good raise huh?"
"God, I'll say. We were neck deep in debt, you know? Like I said, Clare only wants the best. I mean take these trays of flowers. I have to make a special trip to pick them up and they bill her for them. I'm so damn glad I don't see the price. As long as we are in the black, I'm happy."
Erik picked up one of the trays and turned it over in his hand. "Crazy about these plants..." He spoke to himself as he held the tray.
"Hey, would you mind if I used one of those? Amber has some seeds. Maybe I can convince her to start simple and see if she has a green thumb. If she kills the plants, I'm off the hook as far as a greenhouse goes."
Erik glanced from the trays to him. "I don't see why not. Clare should have about fifty of these things somewhere. Probably in the garage. She says she'll repurpose them, but I never see her using them." He handed the tray to Brody.
Erik shut and locked the greenhouse door behind them.
"Hey, when are you taking the Vision up again? I'd love a chance to go up in her."
Hell, probably never. "Maybe next weekend. I was thinking of taking Amber to Miami. Maybe you and Clare would like to come along?"
"That would be awesome, but I thought Amber didn't like to fly."
"She doesn't, but her doctor prescribed a scopolamine transdermal patch. I was going to test it out." He was relieved to remember the medical term for the motion sickness patch. He'd seen a late-night documentary on a murder case where scopolamine had played a role and had been fascinated by the concept. That rabbit hole cost him an entire night's sleep, but it came in handy just now.
Erik chuckled. "Maybe we'll pass until the experimental stage is over. From what Clare told me, the last time Amber went up it was ugly."
"Dude, she painted the cabin in puke. Nobody and nothing was left unscathed." Brody laughed at the gagging sound Erik made.
"Yeah, we'll definitely wait until you know those patches work. Want another cup of coffee?"
"Nah, thanks, I’m actually waiting for the city to show up. I think I have a problem with my water meter. My bill is outrageous, so I asked them to come and look at it."
"Man, if it isn't one thing it's another. The joys of home ownership." Erik picked up his paper. "Wait, the city sending someone on a service call on Saturday?"
"Yeah, surprised the hell out of me. I called them after getting the bill yesterday. I guess they figure there might be a leak or a break somewhere." Brody huffed a laugh. "That would be my luck. Anyway, have a great day and thanks for the growing tray." Brody raised said tray as he headed back to the house. "No worries." Erik sat down in his back porch chair and flipped his newspaper with a quick motion of his wrist.
Once back in the house, he headed into the office. It took less than ten seconds to put his earwig in and unlock his computer. He hit his microphone enabling him to speak to his boss. "I have a tray."
"We saw it. How do we get to you?"
"I told Erik I was having problems with my water meter."
"Smart." Watson pimped him some praise.
"We're on the way." He heard the motor start as Rayburn said, "Captain is driving. Pray for us."
Brody chuckled and turned on the overhead lights so he could examine the tray. "What is so special about you?" Why would Desoto take three or four of them? The man owned a huge garbage company, but it wasn't like he'd be hauling away junk from his married girlfriend's place. There had to have been something sandwiched in between the trays.
"We're here. Any idea where the hell the water meter is?" Watson asked as a flash of light from the windshield tracked across the wall. "On the right hand side of the garage. I'll open the door and let you in through the other side of the house. Edelman won't be able to see you enter."
"Perfect." He heard doors slamming and hustled to the garage through the kitchen. He flipped open the lock to the outside door and stepped back to allow his boss and teammates through the door.
"We can't spend too much time here without raising suspicion." Terrell got down to business immediately.
"This way." Brody showed them through the house. Both Rayburn and Watson whistled at the rather opulent spread.
"Here." Brody waved to the tray. "I just started my examination of it when you drove up."
He and Terrell leaned down together, and he moved the tray, tipping it to catch the light.
"Huh… it looks like shrink wrap," murmured Terrell.
"Yeah, probably pressed cardboard underneath. It's not very heavy." He hefted the tray.
Terrell stared at the thing. "Rayburn, get me an opioid test kit."
"Got it right here." Rayburn dug around in what looked like a toolbox and produced a metal tube which held an ampule, a small spatula, and a zip bag to contain or trash the test results.
"Carefully cut through the shrink wrap." Terrell nodded to the tray.
"You think the bastards are coating the cups in the shit?" Watson asked as he handed Brody a razor blade cutting tool from the drug testing kit pouch.
"Wait." Terrell cautioned. "Put something over your mouth and wear gloves." He glanced around. "Everyone."
Brody hustled into the kitchen and grabbed some linen hand towels. He tied one over his mouth and nose as Rayburn distributed a pair of latex gloves to each of them.
"Okay, King, cut the wrap and scrape a sample o
f whatever is under it. Put the sample into the ampule." He crushed the chemical held in the ampule and nodded for Brody to continue.
He took a deep steadying breath and carefully scored the film at the very corner of the tray, then used the knife to keep the cut open. With his free hand, he scratched the inside of the container and watched as it crumbled easily. The outside was black, the inside––gray. He took the tiny spatula and transferred a minute sample to the ampule his boss was holding. Terrell carefully closed the tube and gently shook the chemicals to mix them.
"Son of a bitch."
"Would you look at that?"
"Holy hell, look at the color."
"Yellow. It's heroin."
"This entire tray is pressed heroin." Watson whistled.
Terrell shook his head. "No, I think this entire thing is pressed Grey Death. How much does this weigh?" Terrell carefully assessed the tray. "Four, maybe five pounds?" His captain glanced at him in question.
"Yeah, about two and a half kilos." He confirmed his boss' guestimate. He did the math in his head. "Fuck, this one tray has a street value of $750,000 if they package it into gram bags as is and don't cut it down further. If they have someone cutting it before it hits the streets, each one of these trays could be a million dollars on the street." Brody leaned away from the innocuous looking planter. "We need to seal this shit up. I don't feel like OD'ing today." He nodded to Rayburn. "In the kitchen, in the cabinet under the island, there's black electrical tape."
Rayburn hustled from the room. Watson glanced from him to Terrell. "So, we know the woman is definitely involved. What about the husband?"
"My gut is telling me no. He has no idea what he's been transporting up here. Hell, there is no way he'd give up a cool mil to the next-door neighbor. Nah, he doesn't know anything. He's guilty of bringing his wife the flowers she ordered. She knows, though. She gave Desoto four of these."
"It was five." Watson clarified. "I was able to run the recording through an over the counter digital enhancer. Five trays."
"Five million dollars of Grey Death on the street." Brody closed his eyes.
"That we know about. Who knows how much Edelman has flown up here." Watson added.
"But we have a way to Peña now." Brody glanced at his boss.
"We need to get to the husband before the wife comes home."
Brody glanced at the digital display of the time on his computer. "We've got three hours, maybe a little longer. I can text Amber to stop and pick up something on the way back. That might gain us a half hour or so."
"What do you have planned, boss?" Rayburn handed him the black electrical tape as Watson asked the question.
"We're going to catch Clare and Desoto and work them for a lead to Rubio and Peña. King, get Mozinga on the horn. I want the entire team in the briefing room in less than an hour. Rayburn, call Judge McClure, we need to put a tracer in the tray, and we're going to do it legally. Watson, help me seal this so King can get it to the greenhouse before Clare Edelman gets home. King, when you come back, bring Edelman with you. He's in for one hell of a Saturday.
Chapter 20
"Hey man, what's up?" Erik glanced through the screen door at the tray he was carrying.
"Yeah, dude, I went to put this in the garage and found Amber already had like five of them."
"Figures." Erik chuckled and stepped from his house. They both headed toward the greenhouse with the tray they'd sealed after Terrell had a warrant. Once they had the verbal authorization, Mozinga dealt with the paperwork, and they placed a GPS tracker inside the shrink wrap. The black electrical tape they used to seal the tiny cut blended well with the black tray and unless someone inspected it closely, they shouldn't notice the small square which sealed the corner of the tray.
Mozinga assigned two teams to the tracker and both were positioned and waiting outside the housing area. The tail would leap-frog in traffic and keep Desoto from knowing he was being followed. Of course, if things went as planned, the units and the GPS chip wouldn't be needed, but there was no way in hell they'd let almost two million dollars in drugs sit in a greenhouse or drive away with Clare's lover. Technology was great, but failures in equipment happened, so four detectives lived and breathed this shift for the sole purpose of keeping an eye on the damn GPS beacon embedded in this tray. If the GPS blacked out before they could execute the plan, they'd have to regroup. Until then, the detectives watched the blinking light on a screen.
Brody put the tray back where he found it, and Erik locked the greenhouse after him. "Hey, what do you say we take a ride in the jet? I figure since the girls are having a day, we can too." Brody shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded toward his hangar.
Erik's eyes widened, and he glanced at Brody's hangar. "Dude, you mean it?"
"Sure. I need a break and nothing urgent is happening at work. What do you say?"
"Deal. Let me text Clare we're flying. She worries."
"Perfect. Tell her we won't be home until late. I have baseball season tickets. Atlanta is playing Chicago this afternoon."
Erik stopped texting and looked up at him. "Damn man, how much money do you have?"
"Meh, the tickets were a gift from a grateful client." Brody started walking toward the house they were using. Erik fell into step with him and pocketed his phone. "Come on in. I need to grab my wallet and do one last check on the weather around Atlanta."
"Sure." Erik followed him into the house and shut the door.
Brody stopped and turned. "Erik Edelman, you're under arrest for transportation of opioids across state lines.”
Watson and Rayburn walked into the kitchen; their badges hung around their necks on chains.
"What?" Erik's eyes grew huge, and he spun toward Brody. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"
"I wish it was, man." Brody removed his badge from his pocket and motioned toward the interior of the house. "We need to talk."
"I want a lawyer." Erik crossed his arms.
"You can ask for one when we read you your rights. Right now, you're going to sit down in there, and you're going to listen." Brody held up a hand when Erik opened his mouth to talk. "The only question we are going to ask you is, ‘Do you understand your rights, and do you want a lawyer?’ but, let me tell you, Erik, you need to listen to what my boss has to say before you make that call."
"His entire world just shattered." Captain Terrell leaned against the wall and stared into the office where Rayburn and Watson were taking Erik's statement. They'd been up front with Edelman. Told him the facts as they knew them and watched the guy silently fall apart. Faced with the facts and the video of his wife and her lover, he waived his right to an attorney and answered every question they had.
Brody glanced at his pseudo-neighbor. "It did. Fourteen or fifteen trays in the last four months. ODs are going to reach an epidemic level if we don't get the shit off the streets."
Terrell nodded. "That's why we're going to put pressure on Clare and Desoto. We're going to play hardball. They're going away for life. Interstate drug trafficking with intent to distribute." His boss shook his head. "This guy had the world, and his wife took it away."
"He had an illusion. It wasn't real." They both leaned against the wall and, except for a few murmurs from the office, silence settled through the house.
"This thing you have with Swanson. Is it real?" Terrell didn't look at him when he asked.
Brody drew a breath and released it. "It is. I told you we had a past. The way we ended was ugly and difficult for both of us. A myriad of miscommunication and boiling emotions. Now? Hell I have a son and the woman I've always loved. Good is an understatement."
Terrell nodded and stared at his shitkickers. "Keep that. Not everyone gets a second chance."
Brody sent a side eye his boss' way. The man's brows were drawn together, and he looked a million miles away. The professional distance between them lessened in that moment. His captain had always been a bit of an enigma. He was personable, not personal. Professional and
distant, making appearances at get togethers, but not staying long. He was tough as nails and someone the entire team respected. In this moment, however, the man behind the badge stepped forward. Brody acknowledged the warning. "I know. I'm one of the lucky ones."
Terrell nodded and pushed off the wall. "What's the ETA on Swanson?"
Okay, so the conversation was over. His boss had shut the door, and he was okay with it. When it came to Terrell, getting to know him was a matter of progress by inches, not miles. He grabbed his cell and glanced at it. "Any time, now."
They'd relocated the van, and Mozinga had assigned two people to monitor cameras on the Edelman residence at the same time he'd set up the trail vehicles. The rest of the team were positioned inconspicuously outside the neighborhood but would move in as soon as Desoto made his way to the house. And that step was the gamble, the long pole in the tent which could keep everything from dropping the way it needed to drop. Would Clare call Desoto? With Erik absent, would she take the opportunity to contact her lover? Right now, they were playing a wait and see game. They'd wait as long as they could before they moved on Clare. Getting Desoto and Clare at the same time was paramount. Interrogation with leverage. Play a “he said”, “she said” scenario. They had some of the best interrogators in the city on the team.
"Car in the driveway." Rayburn's voice straightened him away from the wall. He moved through the house and watched from the dark front room as Amber got out of the car. She and Clare visited for several minutes before Amber shut the door and waved when Clare backed out of the driveway. He moved so he could watch Clare's vehicle without being highlighted in the car’s headlights. Clare backed out, drove to the next driveway, and then idled forward before disappearing back by the garage. The cameras would catch the rest.
Amber unlocked the front door and came in. She leaned to the side. The lights were on further in the house, and the sound of male voices let her know they had company. "Bring me up to speed." She dropped a couple bags on the floor.
Brody (Hope City Book 3) Page 20
