by Carsen Taite
“Come in.”
She opened the door and stopped abruptly one step into the room. Peyton was behind her desk, and sprawled on the couch off to the side was her boss, United States Attorney Herschel Gellar. Dale could tell by Peyton’s furrowed brow that her patience was wearing thin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were in the middle of a meeting.”
Gellar motioned for her to come on in. “Agent Nelson, glad you’re here. Stick around. This involves you too.”
She took a seat in one of the chairs facing Peyton’s desk and waited for one of them to start talking.
“I’ve decided to make some changes around here,” Gellar said. “Be more efficient. I’m not convinced this task force is a good use of resources. I’ll be handling the Gantry investigation myself.” He waved a hand at Peyton. “For obvious reasons, you’ll be walled off from the case.”
Peyton nodded, and Dale couldn’t fault him for that part of his decision. Considering Peyton’s relationship with Lily, it was the right call, but she couldn’t help but ask, “What about the rest of the team?”
Gellar grunted. “Don’t need a team anymore. We’ve got what we need. It’s just a matter of catching that damn vagrant who’s still on the loose. Any cop in a uniform can get that done.” He stood and reached out a hand to Dale. “Agent Nelson, thanks for all your hard work, but I can take it from here. Besides, I’m sure you have much more important things to do than run down a fugitive.”
Gellar left the room and Dale could only shake her head. Sure, she had much more important things to do, like keep a beautiful woman company while a ruthless drug lord was on the lam. She vowed again not to let Lindsey Ryan or her silly story get in the way of her real work, no matter what Herschel Gellar had to say about it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dale pulled up at Peyton’s ranch and parked her truck to the left of the tiny sports car she recognized as Bianca’s. How had she made it up the rocky drive in the low-riding car? After she stepped out of the truck, she stood still for a few minutes, soaking up the fresh country air.
She’d always lived in town, but lately she’d been considering getting a place farther out with some land and maybe a horse or two. The thought lasted the two minutes it usually did before her inner voice nagged about how hard it would be to keep up with a place like that all on her own. Since Maria’s death, she’d shoved all her belongings in storage and moved into a small apartment near work. The two rooms were stifling, but better than looking out over the front lawn every day where her wife had been mowed down in the quiet neighborhood they’d chosen to spend the rest of their lives. The money from the sale of the house was in the bank, waiting for whenever she was ready to move on with her life. She figured it would be there a long time.
As if on cue, Peyton and Lily stepped out from the front of the main house. She’d had a ringside seat to their burgeoning romance, and while she was happy for them, she couldn’t deny a tinge of envy as she witnessed their relationship unfold. Lily waved and she waved back, unable to resist her welcoming smile.
“Get in here, Dale,” Lily called out. “Or you’ll miss Fernanda’s pie, and trust me, you don’t want to miss this pie.”
Dale couldn’t help but return the smile. “Is it chocolate?”
“Yes.”
“Meringue or cream?”
“Cream, of course.”
Dale took the steps two at a time. “You said the magic word.” She nodded to Peyton and said, “Everyone here?”
“All inside.”
“Sorry I’m late. Had to shake a reporter. Lindsey Ryan’s in town to do some human interest piece on the DEA, and Diego pawned her off on me.”
“Lindsey Ryan?” Lily asked. “Wasn’t she the reporter embedded with the troops in Afghanistan? I love her. What’s she like?”
Dale paused before answering. Her opinion of Lindsey was still in flux, and her impressions of her percolated in the back of her mind. She settled on a vague, “She’s okay.” She saw Lily’s eyebrows knit into a curious expression, but thankfully, Peyton saved her from further interrogation about her celebrity pest.
“Lily, we better get started.”
Lily gave Peyton a peck on the cheek. “No problem. I’m meeting with one of the contractors at the house. You go do your business, and I’ll go do mine.”
She walked to the stable and Dale waited until she was out of earshot before saying, “You two moving in together?”
“As soon as the house is ready. It’s been a while since it was lived in, so we’re having some work done. Lily thinks it will be the perfect place for a wedding.”
“A wedding, huh?”
“You have something you want to say?”
Peyton’s challenge was clear, but Dale wasn’t looking for a fight. “I won’t deny it seems a bit quick, but it’s none of my business. I wish you both the best.”
Peyton’s shoulders relaxed, but Dale could tell she still had something on her mind, and she asked her as much.
“I guess I just wondered if you ever think about dating again,” Peyton said. “I mean I know how difficult our jobs are, but we all need someone to make it all worthwhile, someone to come home to.”
Dale looked at the blue sky, the worn wood boards of the porch, the rocky gravel in the drive, everywhere but back at Peyton. She knew the answer and she’d known it since the moment she’d first met Maria. Maria had been her everything and, although a year had passed, the memories remained. Memories of their lives together. Memories of the future they’d planned. “I had that. Not sure you get to have it twice, and I’m not interested in figuring that out. No offense.”
“None taken. I get it.” Peyton’s face flashed sympathy, but she dropped the subject and pointed inside. “You ready?”
She was ready for anything that would distract from the conversation they’d just had. It was the closest she’d come to discussing a future after Maria in a while, and it was as unpleasant as the first time her brother had brought up the subject a couple of months before. She’d told him the same thing she’d said to Peyton, but this time the words had been accompanied by a twinge of regret, like the knowledge she’d forever be alone weighed more heavily than ever.
The Davis kitchen was the makeshift war room, complete with a whiteboard and one remaining slice of pie. Dale helped herself and settled in at the table where Mary and Bianca were waiting. Peyton immediately took charge.
“This morning, Dale and I met with Herschel Gellar, and he told us the task force funds are being diverted to other areas. Effective immediately, the task force is disbanded and everyone is being reassigned. Dale’s boss has confirmed it, and, Mary, I expect you’ll be notified soon. Raphael and the others were reassigned yesterday, and I couldn’t reach them to ask if they wanted to be here tonight. Bianca, you’ve already got a pretty big general caseload, so the only thing that will change for you is you might have a few more free hours in the day.”
“And what about you?” Bianca asked.
“I’ve been assigned to the human trafficking unit,” Peyton said. “I’ll be working with the FBI primarily, but I’m not sure who yet.”
“So what happens to the Vargas brothers investigation and…”
Mary Lovelace let the words trail off, but everyone in the room knew what she was really asking. They’d served a search warrant on Cyrus Gantry, and agents were poring over the files they’d gathered from his offices. There was no question Peyton would have to be walled off from the investigation and possible prosecution, but did the disbanding of the task force mean the whole thing would be dropped?
“I’m not sure what’s going to happen with the Vargases or Lily’s father,” Peyton said. “I recommended Bianca to take the lead, but Gellar says he’s going to handle it himself.”
“That should be interesting.” Dale couldn’t help but laugh. The US attorney might be the top prosecutor in the district, but rarely did he or she actually try cases. The role was primarily administrative, and that was
certainly the case with Gellar. He loved to brag about the accomplishments of his division, but he was rarely directly responsible for any of them.
“I agree,” said Peyton. “But here’s the deal. The Vargases’ game is too big to rely on Cyrus as their only source for laundering funds. Now that Cyrus is under the spotlight and Sergio is on the run, someone else is going to pop up as a major player, and when they do, I want to be ready to catch them in the act. Nothing we do as a team will be authorized by my office or any of your respective agencies, so I can’t expect any of you to join me, but—”
“I’m in.” Mary was the first to speak.
“Me too,” said Bianca.
Dale caught Peyton’s eye and smiled. “Pretty sure you know where I stand.”
Peyton grinned. “I expected no less.” Her expression became serious. “We need to develop a system for communicating with each other and cataloging the results of our investigation.”
“Without getting caught,” Bianca added. “How about everything goes through me? Since I’ll have a general docket, it’ll be easier for me to move around and communicate with all of you. I’ve got cases with DEA, ATF, and FBI on my docket right now.”
“Who were those FBI agents who served the search warrant on Cyrus?”
“Jeffries and Cohen. Jeffries is a jerk, but Tanner Cohen is a good cop.”
“Can you trust her?”
“Not sure, but she’ll talk to me about what’s going on, off the record. I can tell you she’s not going to be happy that Gellar is taking over the prosecution on this. Means a lot more work for her.”
Dale knew what she meant. It was hard enough putting together a case with a seasoned trial attorney at the US Attorney’s office. Working with someone who had little to no litigation experience meant the case agents would be carrying most of the slack. If Gellar was a big enough pain in the ass through the process, Cohen might give them some inside info under the guise of commiserating. She filed away the idea for now. “Okay, so we coordinate through Bianca and we have our meetings here.” She turned to Peyton. “What about your brother? Is he going to blab about a bunch of agents meeting here or do you have some cover in mind?”
“Matter of fact, I do.” Peyton reached behind her and fished a deck of cards and a box of poker chips from a baker’s rack. She fanned out the cards and started shuffling the desk like a Vegas crony. “Five card stud, anyone?”
While Peyton dealt the cards, Dale’s mind started ticking off avenues of investigation she wanted to explore. She had no problem running her plans through Bianca. The question was how was she going to get everything done with Lindsey Ryan watching her every move?
*
Lindsey walked into the restaurant and spotted Alice and Jed seated in a booth across the room. “Where’s Elaina?”
“On the phone with Larry,” Alice said. “It got kind of loud so she took it outside.”
She was well acquainted with Elaina’s temper and Larry’s ability to push anyone’s buttons. Secretly, she was happy to have a few minutes out of Elaina’s watchful eye. She’d spent the balance of the day, after Dale dropped her back at the hotel, thinking about this project, and she wanted to run her ideas by Alice and Jed. She glanced over her shoulder, just to make sure Elaina wasn’t in sight, but before she could get a word in, Alice beat her to it.
“Did you enjoy spending the day with tall, dark, and handsome?”
“Accurate assessment of her appearance—were you spying?”
“I might have been lurking around the lobby when you two were leaving this morning.”
“Well, she might be a looker, but she could not be more annoyed at having to show us around. I have no idea why she got stuck with this assignment, but I can tell you she views it as a punishment.”
“So, you’re abandoning your plan to make her the centerpiece of this project?” Jed asked.
“Not a chance. She’s got layers. Lots of layers. I’ve just got to peel them back, but carefully.” She told them what she’d learned about Dale’s wife.
“Wow,” Alice said. “There’s your angle. DEA agent makes ultimate sacrifice in the war on drugs.”
Lindsey flinched at Alice’s words and the way they echoed the headline she’d read that morning. Alice was right. Dale’s wife’s death was the perfect hook for the story; however, using it made her uncomfortable, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. The facts were what they were. Maria Escobar’s death had been a clear message to law enforcement: back off or die. That Maria’s wife, Dale, remained steadfastly resolved to investigate drug crimes was a testament to her character and Maria’s legacy. If the DEA wanted to beef up their image, they should be shouting this story from the rooftops. Maybe, by assigning Dale to her, they were letting her discover the story herself with the hope it would be more appealing than if they pitched it. Wouldn’t surprise her if that were the case, but something about the whole thing made her wary. “I want to look into things a bit more before we settle on an angle. We have some interviews lined up for tomorrow with some other DEA agents and local police. Let’s see how those pan out and then we can strategize about the angle.”
“What angle?”
Elaina was standing to the right of their booth and Lindsey wondered how much of their conversation she’d heard. “Just tossing around ideas. I got a good lay of the land tour today and we’re scheduled for interviews tomorrow. What did Larry want?”
“Nothing much. We went over a few details. So, you think we can wrap this up by the day of the event?”
Lindsey searched Elaina’s face for a clue. The wrap it up comment indicated a budget concern, but she detected something more than money at play. She didn’t want to rat Alice out, but she did want to know what Elaina and Larry had been arguing about, so she cast about for a way to ask. “Is Larry micromanaging as usual?”
“What? No, I mean, he’s on us to get the story put to bed so it can air in the next couple of weeks, that’s all.”
“What’s the hurry?”
“I don’t know. Hey, are we doing our job or theirs? How about we focus on what you’ve got planned for the next few days and let the network worry about programming?”
“Sure.” Lindsey offered the simple assurance, but she had no intention of letting her curiosity go unsated. Everything about this story, from the vanilla content, to the network’s insistence that she be the anchor, signaled something was off, and she intended to get to the bottom of things.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next morning, Dale pushed through the doors of Judge Niven’s courtroom and slipped into a seat in the back row. Thankfully, she didn’t see any other agents she knew. Bianca was at the front of the room, making a spirited argument for keeping the orange-jumpsuit wearing defendant seated at the other table in custody pending trial. Dale zoned out after a few minutes—this wasn’t her case and she really didn’t care what happened. She just wanted it to happen quickly since she didn’t have much time before she was supposed to meet Lindsey and her crew for round two of busywork.
After the meeting at Peyton’s last night, she’d done a little research on Lindsey, courtesy of LexisNexis. Lindsey owned a small apartment in Manhattan where her network was based, but it was currently sublet to someone else. She was single and had a substantial net worth, but without running a full credit report, Dale didn’t have a clue where she kept her assets. She’d won several Emmys for her work, including one for her reporting while embedded with the US forces in Afghanistan. She’d spent more time as an embedded reporter than any other US journalist, her most recent stint with the Afghan Security Forces, reporting on the drawdown of US and NATO forces.
Dale had run into several reporters while she served, but they were there for the short term, not embedded like Lindsey, and their stories were nothing more than a glossy finish over the dirty truth of the war that claimed more lives than it saved. Like most living, breathing souls, she’d heard about Lindsey’s expose on General Tyson, but she’d never wat
ched any of Lindsey’s war coverage, preferring not to relive any aspects of the experience she’d left behind. The only good thing that had come out of her three tours was meeting Maria, and she had many more pleasant memories of Maria right here at home.
When the bailiff called out “All rise,” she was on her feet, unsure how much time had passed while she was lost in thought. When the judge ducked out the side door to his chambers, Bianca turned and motioned for her to wait. She watched while Bianca handed some papers to the defense attorney she’d just argued against, and then vigorously shook her head when he asked her to cut his client some slack. Bianca Cruz was a baby prosecutor, but she was catching on fast. Show strength, exude confidence, and grant mercy only sparingly were the keynotes to gaining respect.
When Bianca finally broke free, Dale joined her at the counsel table. “I have less than an hour before I have to meet the film crew. What do you have for me?”
Bianca dug around in her bag and pulled out a plain manila envelope about two inches thick. “I printed this out at home. It’s a start—a list of the suspicious transactions Gantry made over the past year. The FBI financial guys put it together from the information they got from their C.I. I haven’t had time to look for patterns. I also included a list of all known border crossings for anyone associated with the Vargases.”
Dale took the folder and tucked it in her jacket. “I’ll get through this today and call you tonight.” Hopefully, she could carve out some time today to comb through the records. “Have you talked to Mary this morning?”
Bianca nodded. “Her boss has her back on the cases she had before she started working with us, a few of which are on my docket, which will give us cover if anyone catches us working together.”
“Good. Any idea what Gellar’s next move will be?”
“He’s not sharing any info, but he does have the grand jury scheduled to meet later this week. I don’t know if they have enough to hand down an indictment for Gantry, but they definitely have enough to indict Arturo.”