He wore a black suit with a stark white shirt under his coat, setting off his dark skin. He stopped and gave her an assessing gaze from her long brown hair down to her modest black heels. “And you are?”
“Cassandra Stone. Guidance Counselor. Eduardo was my student. Is it true? Is he…?” She couldn’t even get the word out. It seemed too final. Too real.
The expression on his full face suggested he wasn’t going to answer her question.
“Please,” she said. “I have to know.”
Her pleading tone must have worked because he rested a hand on his wide hip and sighed. “He’s gone. But we haven’t been able to locate next of kin, so it’s not public knowledge, if you catch my drift.” He dipped his chin and eyed her.
Nodding, she said, “Understood. His dad’s not in the picture anymore and his mom…well, his mom isn’t around a lot. You’ll probably find her at Rodo’s Bar on South Broadway. She’s a waitress there. Also, he has a younger brother.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
She hugged herself, a chill racing over her entire body. “How did he die?”
The detective grinned as if to say good try.
A vision of Eduardo with Ronan and Miguel at Patterson Park flooded her brain. He’d succumbed to the temptation. “Drugs,” she blurted out. “Was it drugs?”
He started, then relaxed his posture, but his eyes clouded with suspicion. “What would make you say that, guidance counselor?”
Feeling the intensity of his probing gaze, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She couldn’t get it out of her mind—Eduardo’s too-eager expression that day at the park. “Eduardo was notorious for hanging out with the wrong crowd. We’ve all heard the rumors about gangs and drugs around here. I surmised as much.”
Taking his hand off his hip, he placed the tip of his pen onto his notepad. “What did you say your name was again, guidance counselor?”
Cassandra gave him her name. If it would help to find out more about what happened to Eduardo, and hopefully save other students from suffering his same tragic fate, then she’d give all the information she had.
With a satisfied look, he said, “The name’s Lyons. Anything specific you can share that might help this case? Anything about Eduardo’s involvement with drugs or gangs?”
Somehow she didn’t think the detective would be too keen to learn she’d been at the park while Eduardo was hanging around drug dealers and gang members, but she offered what she could.
“I don’t believe he was in the gang,” she replied. “But he seemed to be entertaining the idea, if that makes sense. I think they were trying to recruit him or something.”
His pen worked against the paper. “Who? Who was trying to recruit him? You got a name?”
“I don’t know his name,” she said. “But I’ve seen him around school a lot.”
“Could you describe him?”
“He’s tall. Much taller than most of our senior boys. His face is broad with a large nose. And he wears a serious expression all the time.”
“Go back to the nose. Large how? Width? Length?”
She brought the face of the boy she’d referred to as Stony back into her memory. “Large as in it sticks out more from his face. It’s thin, but long, and dips at the end. Kind of like a bird’s beak.”
He nodded as if he knew exactly who she was talking about.
“What’s his name?” she asked.
He glanced up. “Hmm?”
“His name. Who is he?”
Detective Lyons eyed her with that you’re the one that’s supposed to be giving me the info look.
Cass gave him pleading look right back.
Blowing out a breath, Lyons dropped his notepad to his side. “Joaquin Estobar. He’s a big player in the Hermandad Eterna. He’s the main face on the street, handling all the business deals in this area.”
Joaquin. The twentysomething she’d seen that day at Patterson Park with Miguel, Eduardo, and Ronan. He was indeed an influential part of the gang. And they were doing a drug deal.
Miguel.
Eduardo.
Her students.
Drugs.
Death.
She tried to slow her erratic pulse and keep her balance amid the quick shift in her equilibrium.
Detective Lyons tilted his head. “You okay, Ms. Stone?”
“Yes,” she said, but it was strained, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes, I’m fine. Just shaken from today’s events.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I appreciate your time. If you think of anything else that might help, please give me a call.” He reached into his wallet, then extended a business card between his pointer and middle fingers.
She took it and read over his contact information. “Thank you.”
He walked toward the first two detectives, and began chatting and comparing notes.
Movement to her left caught her attention. She spotted Miguel, standing off to the side, clutching his midsection. Cass rushed to him.
“Miguel,” she called out.
When he saw her approach, his eyes widened. He started to turn and walk away, but she begged him. “Don’t go.”
Guilt or a similar emotion must have grabbed hold of him, because he waited.
“How are you?” She wanted so badly to reach out. Hug him. Offer support. She couldn’t tell based on his expression if he would want a hug or support, but she could definitely use both. She chose instead to wrap her arms around herself.
He lifted his shoulders. “Okay, you?”
“A bit shaken, to be honest.”
His expression flickered with remorse before he schooled his features. “Guess I am, too. I thought he was strong enough, ya know? He should’ve survived.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, trying not to push too hard.
He glanced at her sidelong, giving nothing away.
“I’m just trying to understand,” she said as evenly as she could.
“I know you mean well, Ms. Stone, but you don’t know nothin’ about real life. About the streets.”
“Then tell me. Help me understand.”
His eyes narrowed, not in suspicion but more in speculation. “Why do you care so much?”
She unwrapped her arms, kicking her weight back onto her heels. “Because I think all of you deserve better. I believe you can beat the odds and do something other than what society expects of you.”
He let out a snort-grunt mix. “You don’t know nothin’.”
“Anything,” she corrected. She let a few moments pass between them, trying not to scare him away, then asked, “What if you’re not strong enough, Miguel?”
His jaw worked as he thought her question over.
“I am,” he said finally, then spun away and didn’t look back as he walked down the hall toward the exit.
Cass stood there, watching the buzz of action. The uniformed officer who’d put up the yellow tape was now taking pictures of the scene.
The scene. How heart wrenching. This was now a crime scene.
Another chill ran over her body, and this time she let the shudder overtake her.
Eduardo was a good kid with his entire life ahead of him. If he’d really wanted to, maybe he could have tried to be a surgeon like Shakeena wanted. Or a teacher. Or a veterinarian. With a little work and concentration, he could have. But now his life was summed up in nothing more than an unfortunate and unnecessary tragedy. One misguided decision that took away all his potential. Not just from himself, but from his mom. His brother.
Cass took one final look at the area, allowing her sadness and guilt to seep into every part of her. She should have tried to stop this. If she’d been just as concerned about Eduardo as she had been about Miguel, this might not have happened. If she’d confronted him after she’d seen him in Patterson Park, maybe she could have talked some sense into him.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Now she’d never know.
Turning away, Cass pla
ced one weary step in front of the other, thinking of a million different ways today could have gone. If she’d only done this…if she’d only done that…
You can’t save everyone, Cass, her dad often told her. Come home and worry about the ones who want to be saved.
It was true. She couldn’t save everyone. She didn’t want to. She only wanted to save the ones who needed saving.
But she’d failed Eduardo. She’d written him off and hadn’t realized it until it was too late. She’d failed him. She saw the path he headed toward and she did nothing.
Cass made her way down the hallway and turned past the cafeteria when a person called out behind her. She stopped and waited for a woman in a sharp suit and a man carrying a video camera to catch up.
“Excuse me,” the woman said. “Do you work here?”
“Yes,” Cass responded.
“Excellent.” The woman motioned with a flick of her wrist to the man, who kept the camera trained on Cass. A bright light flicked on and shone in her eyes as the woman shoved a microphone in Cass’s face.
“What’s your name and role here?” the woman asked.
“Cassandra Stone. Guidance counselor.”
“What happened here today? Many people are saying it was a drug overdose. What are your thoughts?”
Cassandra squinted. “Well, I…I don’t really know.”
“He was a student here, correct?”
Cass attempted to shield her eyes from the light. “Yes,” she said. “Could you turn that—”
“Did you know the deceased? What kind of student was he?”
“A good kid,” she said, turning her head away from the light. “Please turn that off, I—”
“People are saying that John Carver is the epicenter for all gang-related drug activity. What do you say to that?”
Cass gritted her teeth and met the woman’s gaze head-on. “This is a good school. With good kids. One student’s mistake doesn’t mean now all of that is ruined.”
“So you’re confirming that it was drug related?”
“What? No.”
“But you said it was a mistake after I asked about the drug activity here.”
“There isn’t drug activity here,” Cass said. “This is a drug-free zone.”
“Then how did the student die?” the reporter drilled.
“You’ll have to ask the police,” she said. “I know as much as you do. Now please, get that light—”
“One more thing,” the reporter said. “It’s been reported that—”
“What are you doing here?” another voice called out. “You’re not supposed to be in here!”
Cass turned as another uniformed officer jogged toward them, causing the woman and man with the video camera to sprint away.
…
The team was back at their warehouse, trying to piece together information that would lead them anywhere remotely close to Serrano.
Eduardo’s death hit them all hard. Especially Luke, who felt a personal connection to the young men who shared his similar upbringing. He thought about Cass and how she must be feeling right now, knowing her student’s fate. All he wanted to do was go to her. Comfort her and make sure he was there for her.
But right now, he had a job to do.
Once the news reached the home office, DEA North East Director Joseph Landry pressured the team to work faster. Serrano needed to be caught. The governor of Maryland was now involved and wanted to pull out all the stops to put an end to the drug problem in Baltimore City schools.
That meant BPD and every other law enforcement agency within a fifty-mile radius would jump on the bandwagon. Which was great for manpower, but disastrous for the team’s efforts to stay covert. And covert was the name of the game when seeking out a ghost like José Serrano. Without catching Serrano, their efforts would be wasted. And Luke’s life would be over.
Getting to Serrano quickly was their only priority.
“Intel suggests Joaquin’s looking for some more buyers,” Ash said, pacing the room in front of a wall of video monitors and computers. “High-end clientele.”
Tyke glanced up from the report he was typing. “So he’s laying off the high school kids?”
Ash shook his head. “Still using them for recruitment, but he’s getting greedy. He wants more money fast, so he’s targeting clients who can pay.”
“Why?” Tyke asked. “This was never about the money. It was always about getting new gang members. Why the hell does Joaquin care about making money now?”
“It looks like the gang wants to shop around for a new drug supplier.” Ash stopped in front of a TV with the local news, facing the men. “And in order to do that, they need to be able to pay. Which should work in our favor once Serrano finds out.”
Tyke snorted. “Joaquin’s gonna piss off the most dangerous drug lord in the world. Kid must be crazy.”
“Probably,” Ash agreed. “But either way, it’s good news for us. If we trail Joaquin and Ronan long enough, Serrano’s bound to show up.” Ash sent a calculated look at Luke and Bryan.
“So that means…?” Luke asked.
“Congratulations. You two are high-end businessmen,” Ash said. “You’ve got a meeting with Ronan and Joaquin. Standard scope and swap. Buy the drugs he’s got and we’ll test to see if they’re the ones that killed Eduardo.”
Ash began pacing again, his tall frame more tense than normal, his steps more pronounced. “Make the deal, then set up another meeting. If Ronan’s as greedy as I think he is, he won’t decline.”
The anxiety Luke had been holding onto released. He could be free. He could be with Cass and not have to worry about leaving her. Or lying to her. Or her walking out because of the danger.
“What if Serrano shows up?” Tyke asked.
“Even better.” Ash slid a glance at Luke. “Maybe if he spots Calder it’ll draw him out and we can nail him then. His revenge is going to matter more to him than the drugs. Let’s use that. Everything we’re doing is to get to Serrano.”
“You guys might want to see this.” Reese peered over the big-screen TV he was facing. He threw a look at Ash and Tyke, but then settled his gaze on Luke. Reese’s expression suggested that whatever it was, Luke wasn’t going to like it. And that quick, all his worry sucked right back inside and his heart squeezed.
“What now?” Tyke asked. “We’ve got enough damn problems.”
The team gathered next to Reese.
Reese didn’t speak, instead he pointed the remote at the TV and pressed a button. A breaking news report on Channel Two started. The blonde female anchor sat behind a desk, wearing a red suit, talking about the apparent drug problems in Baltimore City schools and how they suspected a gang was to blame.
Luke crossed his arms. “Nothing new. How’s this a prob—”
Then Cassandra appeared on the screen, standing in front of a reporter, her face glowing under a direct spotlight.
“What’s your name and role here?” the reporter asked.
“Cassandra Stone. Guidance counselor.”
The reporter’s voice played while the camera focused on Cass. “A high school student died in the boy’s bathroom today. Many people are saying it was a drug overdose. Was it?”
“Yes,” Cassandra said, staring back at the camera, seeming to wait for the next question.
“People are saying that John Carver is the epicenter for all gang-related drug activity,” the reporter said. “What do you say to that?”
The screen transitioned to a still shot of the front of the high school and then video of students walking the halls inside.
Cass’s voice played over the footage. “This is a good school. With good kids. One student’s mistake, now all of that is ruined.”
“So you’re confirming that it was drug related?” the reporter asked.
“Yes,” Cassandra said again as the closing shot was of Baltimore Police setting up yellow caution tape in the hallway of the school.
Then the video cut to the r
eporter at the desk. “There you have it, folks. Tragedy at John C. Carver High School today as one student has apparently died from a tragic drug overdose. How many more will follow? Only time will tell. It appears that the school is a breeding ground for illegal gang activity. We’ve been told by a representative from Baltimore Police that the mayor and governor are sending in task forces to get the dangers under control so our children can feel safe to go back to school.”
Reese pressed another button on the remote and the screen went black.
Slowly, three heads turned toward Luke.
“Perfect,” Ash said in a slow, calm voice. Too calm, actually. Then his face filled with his usual pissed off red and he spoke some more. “This is absolutely fucking perfect. Your girlfriend just alerted the entire state of Maryland that there are drug problems in the school.”
“There were always drug problems in the school—” Luke started.
“That’s not the point and you fucking know it!” Ash shouted.
Luke glanced at Reese and Tyke, who wouldn’t meet his gaze, shook their heads, and walked to the other side of the room.
Ash apparently wasn’t done with him. The guy jammed his scrunched-up face toward Luke’s and raised his voice even more. “Now we’re definitely gonna have BPD crawling up our asses while we’re trying to run a clean investigation. How many more hurdles do you think that’s gonna create? And what about Ronan? You think he’s going to hang around a school with cops crawling around every corner? No. He’s gonna hide out for a while until things cool down. So what does that mean for us, huh, Calder? It means it slows us down even more. It means we can’t find Serrano, and it gives him more time to find you. How’s that make you feel?”
Not that great.
“And what do you think her cute little interview will do for Serrano? What if he’s already here? What if he’s been watching you this whole time, just waiting for the right moment to strike? What if he’s seen Cassandra with you? Have you thought about any of that?”
The possibility was slim. The team would’ve seen Serrano. Would’ve caught on. Right?
But that didn’t make Luke feel any better.
His greatest fear would become reality.
“Now Serrano knows her name and where she works. You don’t think he’ll use that to his advantage?” Ash paused, letting the gravity of his statement sink in. “She’d be pretty fucking interesting to him at that point, don’t you think?”
In Walked Trouble (Under Covers) Page 19