G. Moffat - Blindside

Logan recalled hearing about something similar recently but couldn’t quite remember what it was.

‘Why was that so noticeable?’ Logan asked Hunter.

‘Heroin is not a product of desire in the US. We don’t get so much of it here. Crack cocaine is the big thing.’

‘So a sudden increase in heroin-related deaths means what? That you’ve got someone new in the area trying to make his mark with a new product?’

‘Most likely, yes.’

‘What does this have to do with soldiers?’ Cahill asked.

‘We checked in with the DEA,’ Collins said. ‘To see if they had anything going on in Metro Denver or in our vicinity.’

‘I take it that you got a hit?’ Cahill asked. ‘Something with a military angle.’

‘We did.’

‘Can you tell us about it?’

Hunter stood and paced to the door and back.

‘Guys, this is getting kind of to the point where I think it’s best handled between law enforcement agencies. No offence, but I don’t feel comfortable saying too much more.’

Logan knew that wouldn’t sit well with Cahill. Hunter must have seen that in Cahill’s face.

‘I appreciate your background, Mr Cahill, I really do. And that this agent was a friend of yours. But we’re getting into potentially very sensitive areas here. Beyond law enforcement confidentiality.’

‘You mean national security?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve still got clearance. You can check that out as well.’

Hunter sat back down and stared at Cahill.

‘I’ve got permanent clearance. Comes with the job.’

‘From the Secret Service?’ Collins asked, frowning. ‘I never heard that one before.’

‘Another agency.’

Collins’s eyes widened a little. ‘You get around some.’

‘I’ve seen and done a lot in my time, gentlemen. Let’s leave it at that.’

Hunter clasped his hands on the table and leaned forward.

‘That never showed up on your records when I checked before. The other agency thing, I mean.’

‘It’s not supposed to. That’s kind of the point.’

‘So how do we know that you’re cleared for this kind of thing?’

‘I can tell you who to call.’

Collins took a pen and a small notepad from inside his jacket.

‘Go ahead,’ he said.

‘You checked out,’ Collins said to Cahill when he came back into the room five minutes later. ‘But what about him?’

He pointed at Logan.

‘He’s my lawyer.’

Collins looked at Hunter who turned to Cahill.

‘We’re going to have to talk to the FBI after this,’ Hunter said, ignoring Collins’s question about Logan.

‘I’ll make the introductions personally,’ Cahill replied.

Collins sat at the table.

‘You know that the cocaine trade originates in Colombia?’ Hunter asked.

Logan and Cahill nodded.

‘Well, the Mexicans have also got in on the act. In fact, most of the US drug trade comes through there now, not Colombia. And one drug lord in particular has taken to hiring ex-soldiers as security.’

‘The DEA told you this?’

‘Yes. Turns out that one of these soldiers is now a high-ranking lieutenant in a Mexican cartel and he’s been tracked entering the US three times in the last six months.’

‘Entering here, in Denver?’

‘Correct. The DEA has a watch list on known or suspected cartel members and footsoldiers. So they can track their movements if they come into the US. Sometimes it’s better to see where they go and who they talk to rather than arresting them on entry.’

‘I can see how that would work,’ Cahill said. ‘Do they know why this guy has been in the US?’

‘Nothing concrete. Snatches of intel gathered from intercepted communications.’

‘And?’

‘They think that the cartel is trying to establish links with a group here in the US.’

‘Let me guess,’ Logan said. ‘Also ex-military?’

‘You win the watch.’

‘But you said that the overdoses here have been from heroin. What’s the connection to Mexico if they deal in cocaine? Expanding their product lines or something else?’

‘That part we don’t know for sure. And neither does the DEA. But heroin trade does also come in via Mexico.’

‘Sounds like you only have pieces of the puzzle and can’t see the whole picture yet.’

‘That’s about right, yes.’

‘Did the DEA get any names of the people here that the Mexican was in contact with?’

‘No. They traced some calls but they were to illegal, cloned mobiles. Nothing they could use.’

‘You know,’ Logan said, stretching his arms above his head, ‘I can see why the FBI would be focused on terrorism since nine eleven and I have no doubt that’s what they thought Stark was working on. They as much as told us that. But what if this group that Stark was trying to infiltrate had nothing to do with anything like that? I mean, maybe they’re just good old-fashioned capitalists.’

‘Drug dealers,’ Cahill said.

‘Yeah. Maybe Stark was getting close to the truth and they got suspicious. If he’d seen the stories about the overdoses and finally joined the dots to the crew he was with it would explain why he wanted to speak to you, Detective.’

Hunter folded his arms.

‘It makes some kind of sense. But right now it’s just a theory. Nothing more.’

‘I think you need to talk to the FBI,’ Cahill said.

Hunter looked at his watch, saw that it was now almost six.

‘Those FBI types work late?’ he asked.

‘Oh, yeah,’ Cahill said.

‘I got a date,’ Collins said, looking almost crestfallen.

Hunter turned his head to look at his partner.

‘What?’ Collins said. ‘It’s the blonde. You remember?’

Hunter shook his head and raised his left hand, waggling his wedding ring.

‘Doesn’t mean you don’t remember what it was like.’

‘You go if you want. I’m going to see if we can set something up with the local Bureau guys tonight. Sounds like we have a lot to talk about.’ He looked at Cahill who nodded.

‘Crap,’ Collins said. ‘Count me in.’

‘Make the call,’ Hunter told Cahill.

Irvine got home at six, made pasta with tomato sauce and ate it with her son at the kitchen table while he regaled her with his adventures from the childminders. She listened patiently as he tried to express himself using his limited vocabulary and wiped his face every minute or so as the sauce spread ever outward. She felt numb all over.

After Connor was asleep, she went down to the living room and sat on the couch with her feet curled up under her. She couldn’t get rid of the smell from Marshall’s house, not sure if it was real or just a sensory memory. A few hours of TV didn’t help.

Irvine grabbed the phone and dialled Logan’s mobile number. It rang once and went straight to voicemail. She left a short message telling him that everything was fine and that he should call her when he got the chance.

She hung up and reached down to the floor to pick up the remote control for the TV. As she did, she thought that she saw a shadow flit across the blinds of the window that looked out on to the street. She froze, her hand hovering above the remote. Images from Marshall’s house flashed in her head. She saw Connor’s face on Marshall’s dead son, shook her head to wipe the image from her brain.

She strained to listen for movement outside.

She heard a car door open and shut not far from her house then low male voices. She couldn’t tell if they were moving towards her or away.

Standing up, she padded quietly out to the hall where she grabbed her extending baton. There was no light on in the hall and Irvine stood there, listening for any sound from outside. She heard the male voices again. This time there was no doubt that they were coming closer.