Brody (Hope City Book 3)

by Kris Michaels

  Brody nodded toward the office. "Erik's in there. He let me borrow a tray. Pressed Grey Death under black paint and shrink wrap. From what we can ascertain, he had no idea he was doing anything wrong. He's cooperated fully. Terrell is recommending no charges. There was no intent. What about Clare? Did she give any indication what she was going to do tonight?"

  Amber chuckled. "Netflix and chill. She probably assumed I didn't actually know what that means."

  Terrell wandered into the darkened room. "I need you to get in contact with your counterparts in the DEA. We have the location where Edelman picked up the flowers. Either the containers are being produced at the nursery, or one of the employees is bringing them in and ensured Edelman got the right tray each time he came in to pick up Clare's order."

  Brody shook his head. "It would be too hard for an employee to ensure they were there each time Edelman came in. The person is probably in management, if not the owner."

  "Plenty of land at a nursery to set up shop and make the trays." Amber added.

  "Yeah, and nurseries handle chemicals, so they'd have the PPE to prevent them from accidentally inhaling the product."

  "Nurseries also tie into Clare's past. I'll have Terry do some background on the owner of the nursery."

  Terrell stopped her. "Swanson, let’s make sure your contact keeps this close to the vest and at the recon level right now. We don't want anyone moving on the property and scaring our players."

  "No problem. Where's the information?"

  "On your desk."

  Brody watched her walk away. Pride ran through him when she excused herself to work the case. She was professional, through and through—a damn good cop. Terrell would have no reason to suggest either of them be reassigned, not that he actually thought his captain would, but it was an option if officers who were a couple weren't professional or caused a disruption in the unit. Furthermore, her confidence was sexy as hell. He loved her intelligence and yeah, it turned his crank. For him, Amber Swanson, DEA agent, hard-ass cop, mother of his son and his lover, was the whole enchilada.

  Everything about his present life with her eclipsed the shattering desolation he'd survived during the last ten years. Through time and trials of the heart, their love was consummated and forged in a maelstrom of mistakes, miscommunication, and missed opportunities. He glanced at his boss again. Everyone might not get a second chance, but he was damn sure going to grab his with both hands and hold on tight.

  Erik glanced up at her as she entered the office. "You're a cop."

  "DEA, actually." She sat down at her workstation and stopped the loop of fake screens. "What is the name of the nursery in Jacksonville?"

  "Pretty Polly's Perfect Petals." She’d directed her question to Rayburn, but Watson answered. Naturally. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you screwing with me?"

  "No. That's the name of the place." Erik answered. "She's been lying to me. How long, Amber? How long has she been with this guy?"

  Damn. The pain the guy was feeling was coming off him in waves—tangible in a way she hadn't witnessed before. Normally, when spouses learn they've been cheated on, the response was one of anger and disbelief. Watson stood behind the guy and shrugged.

  "I don't know."

  "But you saw them together, right? The film, I couldn't see her. Was she being... forced?"

  Amber sighed and turned to look at her 'neighbor'. Why did it feel like she was kicking the guy in the balls? "No, she initiated the kiss."

  Erik closed his eyes, and his head dropped forward.

  "You're doing the right thing here, Erik." The need to comfort him prompted her statement.

  A huff of bitter laughter escaped him. "By what? Telling the truth? Real noble, aren't I?"

  "Sometimes the only goal we can have is to live through the events that happen." The resonance of her voice stemmed from a one hundred percent belief in her words. That's exactly what she'd done.

  Erik stared at her for a moment and then dropped his eyes to the carpet. His foot started tapping on the beige loops. Well, good. He should start to get irritated, mad, even downright pissed. Clare was cheating on him. She'd used him to transport some of the deadliest drugs known to law enforcement across state lines, and she was working with Desoto, Rubio and Peña.

  She printed off a copy of Watson's notes, already added to their shared drive, and grabbed her cell phone from her purse. Before she went any further, she stopped and grabbed her shoulder holster from her lower right desk drawer and slipped it on. She fished for her badge, clipped it to the waistband of her slacks, and withdrew her .45 ACP Kimber 1911 from her purse. With practiced ease, she tucked it under her arm, securing the strap behind the hammer with a quick snap. "Heading to the master bedroom to make a call to my colleagues in Jacksonville. Come get me if there is movement."

  "Roger that." Rayburn sat down at her desk and brought up the camera screens again. She glanced at Erik one last time before she walked back to the rear of the house and turned on the light in the bedroom she shared with Brody. Terry answered on the third ring. "Got something?"

  "We do. Need you to do some very quiet and very low key surveillance and maybe some background on Pretty Polly's Perfect Petals." She rolled her eyes as she said the name of the business.

  "The one off Interstate 10? Sure can. It's a massive place. Everything from palm trees to petunias." Terry chuckled. "Not that I'd know what the hell a petunia was, but they run a local advertising campaign. The jingle is catchy."

  "Hmm... I'm starting to worry about you."

  "Just starting? Girl, I thought you were one of my best students."

  "I was your best student."

  "Damn straight. I'll start looking into things. Do we think this is an origination or hand off location?"

  "We don't know for sure, but if I follow my gut, I'm thinking processing, packing and hand off."

  "Damn, making the drug would be hard when the place is open to the public." Terry's voice faded. "Guess it's time to take the missus to find some new bushes."

  "Don't get your ass in a crack on this."

  "Would never involve the missus, but if I let her drag me around the place, I'll have plenty of time to observe and perhaps see if there's a location which would favor what we're talking about. Don't worry. I still know how to do this job."

  "I know you do, but please be careful."

  "Will do, kiddo. Are you getting closer to making a bust up there?"

  "Low level, tonight. We're hoping to get one or both of them to roll."

  "Good luck with that. People who talk about Peña don't tend to stay alive too long." Terry's warning sent her eyes toward the front of the house where Erik was waiting for his future to implode. Damn, she probably needed to talk to Terrell about protective custody for both Edelmans.

  "Thanks, Terry. I'll keep in contact. I'd say we are a day, maybe two, from going after bigger guns. We'll need to take down Polly's operation then."

  "I'll get a walk through there tomorrow morning, and I have a few agents I trust to keep their trap shut. I'll bring them in when you tell me to do it. What about a warrant?"

  "My boss will allow me to provide the information for a federal warrant as soon as he has enough actionable information."

  "That works. I'll be waiting."

  "Take care, Terry, and hug Marla for me."

  "Will do, kiddo."

  She ended the call and glanced up. Watson was standing in the doorway, leaning against the intricate woodwork of the door frame. "So, this is a really big house."

  "Yeah? And?" She arched an eyebrow, daring him to say what she knew he was thinking.

  "Only one bed in the whole house."

  "Again... and?"

  "Nothing." Watson's face broke into a huge smile. "Absolutely nothing at all. If I were to have anything to say, I'd say I'm damn glad Sarge is finally happy. It looks good on you, too." He winked, and before her mind could form the words to put him soundly into his place, said, "Desoto drove into the hou
sing area, but he parked the next block over."

  "Why didn't you say so?" She hopped up from the bed and jogged past him.

  "I just did." His words followed her down the long hallway. She stopped behind Brody who was at his desk, all the cameras focused on the Edelman house. She glanced at Erik. The man sat still in his chair, staring at the ground, as the rest of the people in the house crammed around the monitors on Brody's desk to watch for Clare's lover to arrive.

  "There." Brody pointed to the corner of the camera. A man waited at the far corner of the Edelmans’ property. "He's on his cell."

  "There's Clare." She pointed to the back door of the home. The man started moving along the far hedgerow, heading toward the back of the house.

  "On this camera." Brody motioned to the view of the backyard and clicked the lower left monitor, which brought it up to the center of the screen and enlarged the frame. Clare and Desoto met in a heated embrace. She felt Rayburn shift behind her, blocking Edelman's view. She threw him a quick, grateful smile. He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, but the compassion was a big deal. At least to her, and apparently Rayburn, too.

  "All units stand by." Watson was working the comms and his words broke the silence.

  "We're waiting for Desoto to leave with the trays." Terrell’s words grounded the team, and Watson repeated the captain's decree.

  The couple groped in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, they started backing toward the greenhouse. Clare turned to open the building, and Desoto crowded up behind her. The obscene grind against her backside left little room for imagination as to what Desoto wanted.

  The light in the greenhouse turned on. They watched, and yes, recorded Desoto spin Clare and pin her, face down, to the workbench. From the motion of Desoto behind Clare, it wasn't hard to guess what they were doing.

  "Have the teams move closer while the suspects are... occupied. Close but not visible, we don't want to spook them." Terrell murmured the words to Watson who repeated them for the detectives outside awaiting orders.

  Amber looked across the room toward Erik. The man hadn't moved. God, she couldn't imagine what he was feeling. Used, hurt, cheated on, deserted? All of the above. She returned her attention to the silhouettes in the greenhouse. Desoto finished and slumped down onto Clare's back. They stayed that way for several long minutes until Desoto backed away. It appeared they reconfigured clothing for a while before Desoto drew Clare into his arms and kissed her. He picked up the trays and headed to the door. Clare followed him but didn't turn off the greenhouse lights, which only helped to capture their images. They spoke for a minute before he handed her an envelope, and she shoved it into the pocket of her slacks. Desoto pivoted and headed back to the front of the house.

  Terrell snapped, "Take them down. Now."

  "Go!"

  "Everyone watch your six. These bastards are ruthless," Watson cautioned.

  Within ten seconds the yard was swarmed with JDET team members. The camera witnessed the entire take-down, and Amber was impressed with her new team. They had Desoto handcuffed and the trays seized at the same time as Clare was put to her knees.

  "Search her right front pocket. She has either money or directions for the next pickup." Terrell barked the order, and Watson repeated the instructions.

  Patel did the search. The female officer stood from where Clare was kneeling. "Boss, we have money. A lot of money, and it looks like pick up orders." Patel's voice came through the radio.

  "Copy that. Bring Mrs. Edelman first. Don't let Desoto or Clare Edelman see or talk to each other," Terrell said, and Watson repeated the words. "Rayburn, get Mr. Edelman out of here. Have a unit take him downtown to the office. We need to get the paperwork from the DA before we release him."

  "I want to talk to my wife." Edelman spit the last word like it was dirt on his tongue.

  "Now's not a good time, my man." Rayburn grabbed Edelman's arm and pushed him into the hall and toward the kitchen where he would exit through the garage. Amber followed Rayburn with Brody and Captain Terrell on her heels. They had a finite amount of time to work on Clare while the shock and confusion of the take down was foremost in her mind. Unfortunately, the detectives who hustled Clare across the lawn were quick about the task. Detective Patel opened the door, followed by Clare and Patel's partner, Thompson. Erik glanced back when he heard Clare’s scathing accusations of abuse from the detectives. Clare saw her husband and immediately changed the tune she was spitting.

  "Erik? Baby, what's happening? What did you do? Why did they arrest me?"

  Rayburn handled the situation by propelling Erik through the door and slamming the thing shut behind him.

  "What did he do? Why am I being arrested? Amber? Brody? What?" Clare's eyes fell on the badges and guns. "Police?"

  "Have you advised her of her rights?"

  Detective Avni Patel nodded. "On the way across the lawn." She pushed Clare into the kitchen and hooked a boot around the leg of a kitchen chair, drawing it out. Patel shoved Amber's neighbor into the chair.

  "I want a lawyer. You can't arrest me!"

  "Oh, but we can." Avni plopped the envelope down on the table. Thousands of dollars spilled across the walnut surface. Avni flipped the cream colored paper over. Six dates and the numbers of pallets to be picked up from Jacksonville.

  Amber took a seat next to Clare. "You know, I've figured out almost all of the background. My only question is how you knew Erik would be flying to Jacksonville on these dates." She looked across the room at Brody and Terrell. There must be someone on Peña's payroll working at Erik's company. Brody nodded his head and called Watson, murmuring something to him. Watson headed to the office.

  She turned her attention to Clare. "Life in prison."

  "What?" Clare gasped.

  "The going sentence for transporting millions of dollars of illicit drugs across state lines."

  "Drugs?" Clare shook her head. Tears formed in her big brown eyes. "What in the hell are you talking about? I didn't transport anything!"

  "I believe you requested a lawyer?" Amber smiled at Clare. "Unless you're waiving your rights?"

  "I..." Clare's mouth snapped shut.

  Amber reached her hand toward the cash and spread the money in a fan across the table. Nothing in the pile but one hundred-dollar bills. She did a quick calculation. "There's at least fifty thousand dollars here. You'd understand how we would believe you're involved in drug trafficking." She glanced up at Clare.

  Clare made a high-pitched whine in her throat before she choked out. "I'm not trafficking drugs!"

  "I'm sorry, did you say you waived your rights to a lawyer?" Amber flipped the envelope and scanned the information written in block print. "You know, Sergeant King, it seems like an open and shut case to me." Amber leaned back in her chair. "Clare's lover feeds her the pick up dates, and she sends hubby off to transport the drugs back here to Maryland."

  "That's not what happens." Clare's tears were coming in a stream now. Her nose dripped onto the table, but the woman was oblivious.

  "Too bad you can't tell me what actually happens. Imagine the stigma of being dragged downtown, booked and charged. Not to mention a trial. Having talked with Erik, I don't believe he’s going to be too inclined to pay your legal fees." She waited for Clare to drop her eyes and then glanced at Brody. The man winked at her. She hadn't asked the woman a single question other than to ask if she'd waived her rights, but she was damn sure poking the woman with every pin she could use. Clare wasn't a hardened criminal. She'd break.

  "I want to talk to you." Clare looked at Amber, pleading with her eyes.

  "Do you waive your rights to your lawyer?"

  Clare nodded.

  "Sorry, you'll need to state it."

  "Yes, I waive my right to a lawyer. You need to know the truth." She wiped her nose on her shoulder. The handcuffs cinching her hands behind her prohibited her from doing anything else.

  Amber glanced at Terrell who displayed a handheld reco
rder. "So tell me what the truth is, Clare."

  "I know Paul from when we were growing up."

  "To clarify, you mean Paul Desoto, the man who came to see you tonight?" Amber leaned forward.

  "Yeah. Paul Desoto. We were in foster care together. I ran into him about six months before we moved here."

  "Where did you run into him?"

  "The nursery where I used to work. Sometimes I could get plants that were dying or clippings I could re-root from them for pennies."

  "Why were you counting your pennies?"

  A harsh laugh came from Clare. "Erik's hours got slashed. He had a plane, and we'd bought new vehicles thinking he'd continue to get paid what he had been."

  "But he didn't."

  "No."

  "And then what happened?"

  "Paul and I went for coffee. I needed someone to talk to, you know? Erik worried so much, and he was looking for another job, for someone to buy the plane, a way to refinance the smaller house. He was trying, but the bills kept coming."

  "What happened when you told Paul?"

  "He said he could help." She shrugged her shoulders. "For a price."

  "And the price?"

  Clare slowly focused on her. "He could fuck me whenever he wanted, and I do what he said."

  Amber drew a breath and asked, "Did you agree?"

  "I was desperate. I made one stipulation. He could never use me when Erik was home. He made me call him every morning when Erik left and every night when his plane touched down."

  "How long has this been going on?"

  "Since right before Erik got the new job."

  "Why didn't you stop when he got the new job?"

  "Paul videotaped us engaged in... you know. Told me he'd tell Erik."

  "And when did you know you were helping the man transport drugs?"

  Clare sighed. "I didn't know for sure, but almost from the beginning. Paul made me wear gloves when I was handling the trays. He told me to touch them as little as possible. I assumed there was something. Drugs, poison, something. I kept everything Paul gave me. The instructions telling me what to do and when."