by Matt Lincoln
Charlie
As we drove through Las Vegas toward the store, I noticed that traffic still seemed lighter than usual, even though it was now the middle of the day. I wondered if it had to do with the press conference. I could imagine that people might be scared after hearing what was going on. The sidewalks, which were usually bustling with both tourists and locals, also seemed significantly less crowded than usual. It was an unpleasant sight and one that I hoped we’d be able to rectify soon.
The store that Fiona had directed us to was a small corner shop tucked between a sandwich place and a fortune-telling store right on the strip. It was the kind of place that most people would walk right past without ever sparing it a second thought. There wasn’t much parking available nearby, so Junior and I ended up having to walk about five minutes from where we parked just to get there.
The inside of the store smelled like an essential oil diffuser, a scent I only recognized because a former girlfriend of mine used to keep one on all the time. The interior was similar to the kind of convenience store I’d seen a hundred times attached to gas stations, with aisles of various travel-sized goods and a small refrigerated section in the back of the store. It was the kind of small, mom-and-pop store that was rare to see nowadays, especially in the center of a big city like Las Vegas. The bright yellow price stickers dangling from the shelves all displayed unreasonably high prices, a necessity for a locally owned hole-in-the-wall store attempting to compete with the big-box retailers. They were probably able to get away with charging so much for the convenience of their location. Otherwise, people would end up having to drive miles outside the Strip to get their groceries. The ease of stopping here on their way to or from work or school was probably worth the markup for those living nearby.
“Welcome,” the man at the front of the store called lazily. He was leaning back in his seat and flipping through the pages of a magazine.
“Hello,” Junior greeted in response. “I’m Agent Chapman with MBLIS…”
I wandered toward the back of the store as he continued with the introductions. The very last aisle was marked “pharmacy,” so I headed straight there. As I turned the corner, I was surprised to find an employee in a bright blue polo sweeping all the cough syrup bottles off the shelf and into a small trash can with his arm.
“What are you doing?” I asked. The employee looked up at me, and I could tell by the pimples on his face that he was just a teenager.
“Uh…” he responded blankly. “My boss told me to toss all this. Because of the recall. Haven’t you heard? They were making people go crazy or something.”
“I’m going to need you to stop,” I instructed as I moved forward to collect the bottles.
“Hey, stop!” I heard Junior yell from the front of the store. I whipped around in time to see the man who’d been minding the front of the store take off through the back door behind the counter. Junior leapt over the counter after him, and I took off out the front door. Luckily for us, the streets weren’t as congested as they usually were, so there was no crowd for him to slip into.
I spotted him almost immediately and gave chase. The man was tall and had a long stride, but I could tell that he was out of shape. He began slowing down after just a few seconds of running, and I quickly caught up with him. I tackled him to the ground, and Junior was there just a moment later to help me handcuff him.
“I didn’t do anything!” The man yelled angrily as I pulled him to his feet.
“Then why did you run?” I asked, a little sore and out of breath from the chase. I was still wearing the same clothes I’d gotten soaked in, and the chill had settled into my muscles and was causing them to ache.
“You were chasing me, that’s why!” the man retorted.
I rolled my eyes and looked over at Junior. It was like we went through the same script with half the suspects we apprehended. I was about to make a joke about it when I noticed my partner was grimacing and pressing his right hand against his left shoulder.
“You okay?” I asked him. The shopkeeper attempted to pull himself free of my grasp, and I tightened my grip around his arms.
“I’m fine,” he replied as he quickly dropped his hand away from his shoulder. “I think I just twisted my arm a little when he was struggling while I was trying to get the cuffs on him. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” I responded. I wasn’t entirely convinced, but the shopkeeper was thrashing around and demanding all of my attention.
Junior and I dragged him back to the small shop between the two of us. I noticed at once that the kid was gone. He must have run while we were chasing down the store owner.
“Stupid pigs!” The store owner spat. “You don’t have any proof I’ve broken the law!”
“Yeah, okay,” I rolled my eyes as I pushed the store owner back onto the chair he’d been sitting in earlier. “You always make your teenage employees hide the evidence of your crimes? Or was this just a one-off?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man growled.
“No one ever does,” Junior grumbled as he walked toward the back of the store, where the bottles were scattered all over the ground. He held one up to the man. “So you’re saying that you don’t know what’s in these?”
The shopkeeper’s eyes went wide.
“No,” he replied. “Well, yes, now I do. After I saw that press conference, I told Travon to throw them all out. I didn’t want anyone else getting hurt.”
“So why did you run?” Junior asked skeptically. “We were only here to ask you about where you got the bottles, but you panicked and took off as soon as you noticed Agent Hills speaking with your employee. Why is that?”
“Well, I…” the man sputtered as he tried to come up with a reasonable-sounding excuse.
“Daniel Clive?” I read aloud off a liquor license mounted on the wall. “Is that you?”
“Yes,” he stuttered. “But I didn’t do anything. In fact, I want a lawyer!”
“You’re going to need one,” I sneered. “Do you understand how this case is being handled right now? As a terrorist attack. The FDA doesn’t take the tampering of medical supplies lightly, Mr. Clive. Are you certain you don’t want to speak with us?”
“I’m not a terrorist!” he protested angrily. “I was just trying to save a few bucks! Times are hard right now, you know? You can’t blame a man for trying to do what he can to scrape by.”
“What do you mean by trying to save a few bucks?” Junior prompted.
Clive’s face went white as he realized he’d slipped. He looked as though he might argue but then changed his mind.
“I bought those bottles at a discount,” he admitted reluctantly. “Medicine is expensive. I got an offer to buy bulk supplies at a huge discount, so I took it. I didn’t think people were going to get hurt.”
“Where did you get the offer from?” Junior asked.
“Some liquidation place,” Clive shrugged. “I get emails all the time from people trying to sell me stuff. Business licenses are all public knowledge, you know? Anyone can look up your email and address and send you spam mail. Anyway, one email I got was from this liquidation place that said they buy product from places going out of business and resell it at a discount. The cough syrup isn’t the only stuff they sent me. I got bandages, rubbing alcohol, all that stuff too. The cough syrup’s been selling the most, though, seeing as how the weather’s gotten colder and everyone’s coming down with the flu.”
“So this company sought you out specifically?” Junior asked slowly. I understood where he was heading with that question. It seemed that Clive hadn’t gone out of his way to obtain the bottles. Instead, someone else had gone through a lot of trouble to ensure they’d end up here.
“I guess,” Clive shrugged. “That’s why I panicked. When the feds showed up right after that press conference, I figured they must be fakes or something, and I was about to get blamed for everything. I swear, though, I never meant to hurt anyone. They look just like the r
eal thing! I’ve been running this store for almost ten years now. I would never have given those bottles a second look.”
“Do you still have the box the supplies arrived in?” I asked. If he did, we might be able to get a return address.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s in the backroom. It just arrived a month ago, so I haven’t used everything yet. I guess I should have known something was up when I saw that the package had been shipped here from Ireland.”
“Ireland?!” Junior and I both exclaimed in unison.
“Yeah,” Clive nodded. “I thought it was weird at the time, but the liquidation company never said anything about being based in the US, so I just kinda brushed it off. Seems stupid now in hindsight.”
Well, at least now, we could be sure that the bottles hadn’t come from the factory on the east coast that their serial numbers seemed to imply. It was becoming evident that these were complete counterfeits shipped here from overseas.
“You stay here with him,” I instructed Junior before heading off to the backroom of the store. It was about the size of a walk-in closet. Shelves laden with boxes and packages lined every wall of the room.
The box that Clive had been talking about was tucked into a far corner of the room, and I could see from a distance that it was filled with bandages, cotton balls, and other medical supplies, just as Clive had mentioned. A quarter of the box was also filled with stacks of cough syrup bottles. I turned the box around in an attempt to find the mailing label and froze when my eyes landed on a shockingly familiar symbol.
“There’s no way,” I muttered angrily to myself. Just to the side of the mailing label, stamped on the box in clear, black ink, was the infamous flower symbol we’d run into time and time again.
12
Junior
“It’s like some kind of sick, twisted joke at this point,” Charlie growled as he buried his head in his hands.
We were back at the office, and we’d brought the rest of the bottles back so Fiona could examine them, but they’d all turned up the same. We’d also handed the other medical supplies over to Howard so he could check them from anything suspicious, but so far, it seemed that only the cough syrup was affected. We’d reported what we’d discovered about the flower symbol and the return address in Ireland to Wallace, and he’d been holed up in his office making preparations ever since. Charlie had been furious upon discovering the symbol, and his rage hadn’t let up since.
“It really does seem like a twisted joke, actually,” I mused aloud. Miranda, Naomi, Charlie, and I had gathered around in the bullpen, trading our thoughts and theories on the case. “I mean, doesn’t it seem a bit too obvious? It’s not like they’ve been very subtle so far, leaving that mark all over everything, but plastering it on the side of a box like that? It almost seems like they’re taunting us.”
“I think they are,” Naomi frowned. “Well, perhaps not us, specifically, but maybe law enforcement in general? Think about it. Whoever did this went through a lot of effort to ensure that the laced drugs would make it to that store. Why would they leave such an obvious sign unless it was deliberate?”
“Maybe they’re just stupid,” Miranda scoffed. “I’ve been asking myself that same question ever since we became aware of them. What kind of moron leaves their mark all over the evidence of their crimes? It’s like admitting you did it.”
“Someone who thinks they’ll never be caught,” I responded. “It’s been a year since they first fell onto our radar, and we still haven’t tracked them down, despite constantly finding evidence of their crimes. They’re clearly not that stupid if they can keep leaving that stupid symbol everywhere while still evading us.”
I could tell that everyone was on edge. We felt angry and humiliated that we’d been bested once again. Somehow, this suspect had released a deadly drug into our own home city without us even realizing it. There was no way this wasn’t some kind of taunt.
“Agent Chapman, Agent Hills!” Wallace called from the entrance to his office. “Could I speak with you, please?”
I stood tiredly and headed into his office, Charlie trailing closely behind me. I felt a little uncomfortable, as if I’d just been summoned to the principal’s office. I’d never felt that way around Wallace before, not even when I’d gotten in trouble for stepping into the line of fire during a hostage negotiation. It was just a testament to how tense everyone was that everything felt so different now.
“You’ll be heading to Ireland tomorrow,” he announced without preamble almost as soon as we’d stepped into the office. I hadn’t even sat down yet before he’d begun speaking. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to allow you the usual day off before a large-scale mission this time. This situation has grown worse.”
I wasn’t disappointed, but I was surprised. Wallace always made a point of having us prioritize spending time with our families and not overworking ourselves. The fact that he was shipping us out on such short notice was cause for alarm.
“What happened?” Charlie asked seriously.
“There have been three new attacks in the last twelve hours,” he answered gravely. “And the police have been able to connect an additional four attacks that occurred in the last three months to the current case. Even though we’ve collected all the bottles from the store they were originating from, we can’t be certain that whoever did this won’t try again with a different store or a different product. We need to catch this guy as quickly as possible.”
“Of course,” I nodded.
“Thank you for understanding,” Wallace replied, looking genuinely sorry. “It’s not much, but I’ll let you two have the rest of the day off. You’ll be leaving tomorrow at around mid-day, so try to get some rest. Agents Patel and Castillo will remain here to assist the police as we get new cases.”
“Understood,” I responded as I stood to take my leave. Charlie followed me out, and together we returned to the bullpen where everyone else was gathered.
“What did he say?” Miranda asked as soon as I’d sat back down. She’d sat up straight the moment she’d noticed us approaching, obviously eager for an update. “He sounded upset.”
“We’re heading to Ireland tomorrow,” I explained. “I think he was upset because there have been three more attacks just today.”
“Seriously?” Miranda gasped. “How? Wallace spent an hour on TV specifically telling people not to take the cough syrup.”
“Maybe they didn’t see the broadcast,” Fiona shrugged. “Or maybe they’d already taken it before it aired. There’s still a lot we don’t know about it, like how long it takes people to become violent after taking it.”
“There’s also the possibility that people will take it anyway,” Naomi suggested. “Drug addiction is an awful thing. The director mentioned that taking it could cause hallucinations and disorientation. People might be willing to chase that high regardless of the consequences.”
“What a bunch of morons,” Miranda spat. “So you’re not getting a day off, right? Don’t you usually go see your family before missions, Charlie?”
“Yeah,” Charlie grumbled. “I might go have dinner with him tonight. It wouldn’t be right of us to put it off any longer than necessary. People are dying. The faster we stop the perp, the better.”
“Well, you should get going then,” Naomi sighed. “Make as much of the little time you do have. Good luck on your flight tomorrow.”
I thanked her, then we all drifted back to our own tasks. Charlie packed his stuff up and left, Naomi and Miranda went to speak to Wallace, and Fiona and I retreated into her office.
“You probably won’t be here for Halloween, will you?” she asked sadly.
“Oh, no, I won’t,” I replied, suddenly remembering the plans we’d made.
“It’s alright,” she shrugged. “I kind of had a feeling you wouldn’t, even back when I asked you to come party with me. I mean, it was either going to be you two or Miranda and Naomi jetting off. I can’t be surprised that you’re busy in the middle
of a case.”
“Sorry,” I apologized anyway as I fell into one of the chairs in her office. I’d been working as a federal agent for a long time and had never had to worry about disappointing anyone or breaking engagements for my job. I found that I had to cancel plans with Fiona pretty often, and I really didn’t enjoy it.
“It’s probably for the best,” she replied as she sank into the other chair and rested her chin in her hand. “If Wallace is right about more attacks breaking out across the city, it’s probably not a great idea to go out on a night when everyone will be under the influence of something.”
“Maybe we can go out tonight, instead,” I suggested. “I have the rest of the afternoon free.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think I do,” Fiona argued. “Wallace didn’t tell me to go home early.”
“He probably won’t even notice,” I shrugged mischievously. “It’s only a few hours, anyway, and you already did a lot today. You tracked down the store’s location, and you figured out that the drug was only circulating here in Las Vegas. It’s not like there’s much else to do.”
Fiona smirked. “You’re a bad influence.”
I just shrugged in response.
“We came in early anyway,” I replied. “Besides, what else am I supposed to do? Wallace gave me the afternoon off, but I’d probably just end up spending it waiting around for you to get off work.”
“Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “But just this once. I can’t make a habit of playing hooky from work.”
I laughed and waited for her to gather her things before we headed out of the office together. If I really thought she was needed here, I wouldn’t have convinced her to duck out early. There really wasn’t much left for her to do, though, at least until Charlie and I headed out to Ireland and got more information. In any case, I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could before I headed out the next day. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all just a little too obvious and straightforward, like we were being led straight into a trap.
