by Stark, Cindy
“Yeah? A spark of superiority flared inside him. “Then who’s that? The scrawny punk he’d met in Janie’s apartment the night he’d helped her clear out her belongings worked his way up the street, constantly looking over his shoulder like he had something to hide. “Let’s go.”
He didn’t check to see if Noah would follow. Even though he and his partner had only been working together for a short time, he trusted him with his life. It was an unspoken oath. They always had each other’s backs.
He grabbed Brent’s elbow and steered him away from the front door. The kid nearly jumped out of his skin, but Sam didn’t release him. “We’d like a word with you.” Noah took hold of his other arm, and together, they escorted him around the side of the apartment building and off the main street.
“I didn’t do nothing.” Brent struggled to be free, but they held him in place.
“Remember me?” Sam asked getting close to his face.
His bloodshot eyes grew larger. “You’re the dude who was with Janie the other night. You’re a cop, right? He darted a glance at Noah and then quickly looked away, shifting from one foot to the other.
“That’s right. And you work for Paul Castell.”
He shook his head vehemently. “Hell, no. I don’t work for him.”
The kid was smart enough to recognize he didn’t want to be considered a part of Paul’s organization.
“Then what’s your association with him?”
“I just come to see him for…to say hi.” But not smart enough to totally avoid suspicion.
“He sells drugs to you, then?” Sam asked.
“What? The kid widened his eyes, overdoing the innocent act. “I don’t use.”
“Uh-huh.” Noah pushed him against the rough brick wall. “You normally this jittery?”
What a waste of humanity, Sam thought. “Look kid…what’s your name?”
He looked nervously between the two of them. “Brent…Shaw.”
“Okay, Brent Shaw.” Noah leaned forward until his gaze was level with the kid’s. “Let’s make a deal. You tell us what we want to know, and we won’t drag you down to the station for distribution.”
He stared back at Noah his gaze turning confused as though he wasn’t certain what the other cop wanted from him. “I don’t know anything.”
“You know Paul Castell, don’t you?” Sam asked. When the kid didn’t respond, he lowered his voice. “Don’t you?”
Brent stopped resisting their hold. “Look man. I say anything, I’m dead. You want my life on your hands? He directed his response to Noah, making Sam itch with irritation. He’d been the one to ask the question, not Noah. Lack of respect would get the kid nowhere.
“And why would you be dead?” Noah pushed further.
“Because he told me so.”
“I think we should take him downtown,” Sam said to Noah. “Don’t you?”
“Definitely.”
Brent started to struggle again. “What for? I didn’t do anything.”
“Possession of meth,” Sam answered.
The kid’s demeanor broke into a satisfied grin. “If I had any, I wouldn’t be here.”
Sam’s smile trumped his. “Oh? That must mean you are here to score, then.”
The look on the kid’s face dropped. “Oh, man. You gotta listen to me.”
“Here’s how it’s going to work. You give us some information on Castell’s next big drop, and we won’t rat you out.” Sam looked to Noah, and his partner nodded. Sam was totally going with his gut instinct that Castell would be involved in a substantial transaction, but the kid didn’t know that.
Brent started to argue, but Noah cut him off.
“You wouldn’t rather be dead, would you?”
“But I will be if I talk.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I’m pretty sure, though, if he finds out you’ve spent all day with us down at the station, he’s going to think you talked whether you did or didn’t. Do you think he’ll take that chance?” Sam asked.
The kid went limp in their grasp as though that would help him get away, but the two men held him up.
“Your choice,” Sam said.
The kid sighed. “You won’t let him know it was me?”
“Why would we? You’re more valuable to us alive than dead,” Noah responded.
“Okay.” Brent went back to holding up his own weight and shifted his gaze down the alley between Paul’s building and the neighboring one. “I’m not sure ‘cause they don’t tell me anything, but sometimes I overhear stuff.” He paused until Noah urged him to continue.
He released a heavy sigh. “Paul had me talk to Lou the other day, to tell him to call Paul.”
“Lou? What’s Lou’s last name?”
The kid hesitated for a second, looking for all the world like he might die if he spoke another word. “Elliott.”
Noah nodded. “Continue.”
“He wanted me to tell Lou to call him. So I did. He called Paul while I was there getting…something.” He seemed to realize he was on the verge of another confession and blinked his eyes quickly as he looked down. “They talked about receiving a package from someone named Angel, I think.”
“Angel Hardy? James Hardy? Sam glanced to Noah and saw the recognition in his eyes. Angel Hardy had known connections to an infamous group of convicts, and Janie had said one of the guys had a star tattoo, a known symbol of the powerful group.
Brent shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard him say Angel.”
Noah pushed him harder against the wall. “Half-assed information isn’t going to cut it, kid.”
“I don’t know.” His voice pitched. “He just said Angel, okay?”
“When? Sam needed more information than just a name.
“Saturday,” he stammered. “Castell has a warehouse on River Street.”
“What time?” Noah took his turn interrogating, and Sam could tell he loved this part of his job.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re making this awfully difficult, Brent. I could still drag your ass down to the station.” Sam lifted a brow, promising the kid he’d regret it if he didn’t make the right decision.
The kid’s eyes grew wild, and Sam could tell his bit of pressure had been applied at the appropriate time.
“God’s truth, I don’t know.”
Sam jerked his arm as though to pull him toward the car.
“Earlier in the day,” he squealed. “I don’t know exactly what time, but they always do their transactions during the day. Like noon or something. So they don’t look suspicious.”
“Or something? Noah raised a brow.
“I swear.” He glanced between both of them. “That’s all I know.”
Sam released him and stepped back. “You’d better not be jerking us around.”
Relief gushed over the kid’s face. “I’m not. I swear.”
“Fine. We’ll let you go for now. But Mr. Brent Shaw, don’t forget, we found you once. You jerk us around, and we’ll find you again.” Sam pinned him with a gaze that had put the fear of God into more than one criminal.
The punk didn’t wait for them to change their minds. Instead of going back into the street, he gave Noah one more fearful look before he headed down the alley and disappeared from sight.
“So, that’s how the infamous Sam Holden does it.”
Sam rolled his eyes. He admitted, he did have a way with criminals, but he wasn’t one to brag about it. He was just grateful he could use his skills to protect the innocent. “I don’t know. He seemed to be more scared of you than me. Have you come across him before?”
“No.” Noah widened his eyes. “Never seen him before. He’d better hope we don’t run into him again.”
Sam dismissed the feeling he was missing an underlying current. More often than not, addicts displayed odd behavior, and beyond Brent’s peculiar glances at Noah, nothing had been out of line. “Let’s get the hell out of here. We’ve got a sting to set up.”
“Are we
going to involve Drug and Vice? I feel like they’re going to want a part of it.”
“I don’t have a problem with that.” The more cops involved, the more likely the operation would go down smoothly.
Once they were back in the vehicle, Noah nailed him with a discerning gaze, and Sam could see how his partner would eventually develop his own visual tactics. “How did you know the kid would show?”
“I didn’t.” Not exactly. He’d made an accurate guesstimate. Anyone on meth didn’t stay away from his buyer for too long. “I just figured eventually someone would show up.”
“That’s a pretty good guess.”
Sam didn’t buy into his leading comment. Doing so would only draw suspicion. He started the engine and eased into traffic. “Paul might still be in the hospital, but someone’s gotta be directing the operation. Especially since it sounds like another deal is about to go down. My guess is Castell is still calling the shots, but maybe using Elliott as a mouthpiece. When we get back to the office, we need to rundown what we can find on Lou Elliott. I’ve already got Clark on Angel Hardy. We’ll start putting together a file and looking for connections. I always thought Castell was a small time dealer, but if he’s involved with Hardy, there’s some big time shit going down.”
Noah grinned. “I’m more than up for it.”
“I thought you might be.” Sam remembered when he’d been involved in his first big case. Nothing like kicking some criminal ass and taking names. Even better if it set Janie free from the maniac who’d had such a hold on her life.
He’d really like to give her that freedom. He really would.
Chapter Twelve
When they arrived back at the station, Sam and Noah sequestered themselves in their office for several hours researching leads and past histories on Lou Elliott and James Angel Hardy, and scoured through some files Clark had produced. There certainly wasn’t a lack of information. Both men had been arrested and convicted on several counts of drug trafficking and racketeering, though Hardy seemed to be the more serious of the two, having spent time in federal prison where he’d also been accused of murder. The murder charges didn’t stick, but apparently, they’d been enough to make most in the federal prison create a wide wake when Angel was in the area.
Sam had also managed to procure a copy of a lease in the name of Paul Castell for a building in the industrial area along River Street.
“So, we’ve got a dangerous convict connected to organized crime, another dealer who’s found a little more trouble than Castell, and then Castell who we thought was a nuisance, but may play a much more important part.” Sam dropped his pen on the yellow notepad in front of him and eyed Noah. His partner had lost his tie and sat with the top two buttons on his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up. “The more I look at this, the more I’m thinking this isn’t a small operation.”
“I’m getting the same vibe.” Noah took another long hit off his coffee that had to be so far past cold it should be illegal.
“How can you drink it like that?”
He shrugged. “It’s caffeine. What difference does it make how I get it into my body?”
Sam laughed and realized he’d been holding in a fair amount of stress. This bust needed to go down, but he hadn’t realized until now how badly he wanted it. He rolled his shoulders, reminding himself that balance made him a better detective. “Man, we’ve got to get you civilized. No more drinking the sludge. That stuff will do in a pinch, but why suffer when you can have good coffee?”
“Hey. You drink it your way. I’ll drink it mine.” To prove his point, he slugged down the rest of it, and then met Sam’s gaze with an obnoxious grin.
Sam groaned. “I’m going to go get me a cup of the fresh stuff. Call Mark in Drug and Vice. Ask if he has a minute. When he gets here, we’ll go over what we’ve discovered and what we’re planning.” He stood. “I’ll be right back.”
When he returned, Mark sat in their visitor chair. He nodded when Sam entered the room.
“Hey,” Sam responded. Mark and Sam went way back, with both of them joining the organization fresh out of college. Sam had a knack for figuring things out, and Mark fit in well with the rough crowd of drug dealers and high-rolling criminals. His bald head, steely gray eyes and numerous tattoos made him seem anything but an undercover cop. Many underworld doors opened for him, and the people who welcomed him in usually regretted it.
“Noah’s telling me you got a lead on something?”
“Angel Hardy mean anything to you? Sam cocked a brow and watched for Mark’s reaction. He wasn’t disappointed.
Mark’s gaze grew greedy. “Yeah, I know him. What do you have?”
“A potential drug shipment. Something’s going down this Saturday at a warehouse on River Street, and we figured you might want in on it.”
“Hell, yeah. Hardy’s been on my radar for a long time.” He eyed them both. “Why don’t you turn it over to us? It’s not exactly up your alley.”
“We’ve got a vested interest,” Sam replied, earning him a questioning look from Noah. “We’ve been working a domestic violence case against a guy named Paul Castell.”
Mark nodded. “He’s small time, though.”
“That’s what we’d though,” Sam continued. “His ex-girlfriend seemed to think it was a little more—”
“She did?” Noah asked, interrupting.
Sam shot him an annoyed gaze as an arrow of panic sliced through him. “Yeah, she did.” Had Janie said anything to the group when she’d been questioned at the precinct or just to him later on? “Maybe it was when I escorted her to her apartment to get her things.” He had to keep his shit straight, or Noah would catch on to him for sure. “Anyway, we started digging this morning, talked to one of Castell’s associates, and he coughed up the name.” With a little persuasion.
“Hey, Holden.” A voice came from the doorway.
Sam looked up to find Clark standing there.
“Did you come up with something else for me?”
“I’ve got some photos of his tattoos, and yeah, it looks like he does have a star near his collarbone. I’ve emailed them to you, but I could print out copies if you need them to show to a witness.”
“That would be great.” He could take them home to Janie and see if she could identify him.
“I thought Ms. Singleton was missing in action.” Noah eyed him with a more curious look this time.
“She is. Unless her attorney has managed to locate her. Which I’m sure she will. And when she does, I’d like to be prepared. Is that all right with you? What the hell was up with his partner today?
Noah backed off in look and attitude. “Sure. Always good to be prepared.”
“Listen,” Mark said. “A couple of my guys are still here. Let me grab them, and we’ll form our plan. If this thing is going down Saturday, we’d better get started.” He turned to Clark. “See if you can track down blueprints for the building so we can get a better handle on the situation.”
After Clark had left the office, Mark turned his sniper-sharp gaze to Sam. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but like it or not, it’s better if you let us handle this. You can be on-site if you’d like, but you know the chief isn’t going to want investigation handling a drug raid.”
Sam grudgingly agreed.
Hours later, they’d exhausted all avenues of a possible drug bust. Mark stood and stretched. “I think that’s the best we can do for now. You’re confident in your informant?”
“As confident as I can be with a meth addict.”
Mark nodded. “Okay. Saturday, it is. We’ll meet here at ten.”
Sam, Noah and Mark’s guys also stood, the group confirming with each other their agreement before everyone left except Sam and his partner. “Probably time to head out.” He glanced at his watch. Six-thirty? “Shit. I’ve got to get going.” He should have been home by six so that Christian could get to his bar.
“You got a date or something?”
“Yeah. With your w
ife,” he tossed back at him, evading the question. He was starting to feel like he was the one under interrogation.
His partner laughed. “Pretty sure she wouldn’t look twice at your ugly mug.”
“You keep thinking that.” He grabbed his keys and phone. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
* * *
Sam rushed through the door to find Christian watching him with a none-to-thrilled look on his face. The scent of something mouthwatering hit his nostrils, and he was certain he’d missed another of Janie’s creations. “Sorry. There were some breakthroughs in Castell’s case, and time got away from me.”
“Maybe you ought to think about sending Janie out to Hunter’s place. Then if we have to leave her alone, we don’t have to worry about anyone finding her.”
“No.” He didn’t like the thought of not being able to see her every day. “I know I’m putting you out, having you stay here constantly, but I’ll be more aware of the time from now on.”
“What happens when you get called out on one of your all-nighters?”
Sam had considered that as well. It was hard with Xander and Hunter both out of town. “I’ll figure out something. I’ll take her to my parents if I need to. My dad’s shot is as deadly as it’s ever been.”
“I’m not a child.” Janie joined them in the foyer. “I don’t need twenty-four seven babysitting. I’m sure I can stay by myself for a while. No one knows I’m here.”
“I’m not taking any chances.” Sam sent her a don’t-argue-with-me look.
“It’s my life.” She put her hands on her hips, sending a mixture of frustration and attraction shooting through him.
“And you’re in my care.”
Christian interrupted them with a huge sigh. “I’m late. I’ve gotta go. You kids can figure this out on your own.”
Sam’s gaze warred with Janie’s until the door shut behind Christian.
“This isn’t up for discussion.” He broke eye contact and headed for the kitchen. The scent of whatever she’d cooked stirred up his hunger, and he realized it had been nearly seven hours since he’d stuffed in a turkey sandwich in between researching Castell, Elliott and Hardy.