Page 49 of Charmed Forces

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Page 49 of Charmed Forces

“It’s like he wasn’t even there,” I said, shaking my head. “His partner, Redmond, seemed to have the only brains between them. He said Jord was helping him with his sergeant exams.”

“Yeah, I know the kid. He’s got a bright future so long as he can get out of being partnered with that lazy oaf, Harold.”

“What’s Harold’s problem?”

“Big mouth, tiny brain. He wants all the kudos for the arrest but doesn’t want to put in any of the legwork. Redmond, fortunately for Harold, is good at following through. If I had my way, I’d assign Harold to traffic duty for the rest of his career.”

“Which idiot gave him guard duty?” I wondered, more to myself than anyone else.

“Good question,” said Garrett. “He wouldn’t be my first pick. Anyway, I’m not just giving you a lift out of the goodness of my heart. I’ve got some information for you.”

I straightened. “We didn’t even ask for it,” I said, disbelieving my luck. Normally, getting a favor from Garrett involved lots of pleading and sometimes, even bribery.

“I know. It’s babysitting-duty free too.”

“Best day ever,” I decided, not that I didn’t enjoy watching Garrett’s three kids. Patrick, the oldest, was a hoot. The younger boy, Sam, was totally unpredictable and great fun, while Chloe was a little darling.

“But if anyone ever asks, you lifted this off a desk. Or it was randomly mailed to you. You didn’t get it from me. Understood?” Garrett pulled a file from his door pocket and held it up.

“Understood,” we chorused but since I was l leaning forwards, I managed to pluck it from Garrett’s fingers before Solomon could.

“This is the case file,” I breathed, scanning the first page.

“A copy of one, but yeah. It’s to be read strictly by you two. No one else. When you’re done reading it, destroy it,” Garrett instructed us.

“This won’t come back on you,” Solomon assured him.

“This is great. I thought I’d have to break into the morgue to get their names,” I said.

“I did not hear that,” said Garrett.

“Tell me as you read,” said Solomon.

“All the officer details are in there too. Just an overview of their files. I figured you might want to talk to their next of kin,” said Garrett. “Although, you already did that. Damn. I can’t believe Detective Wayne didn’t make it. I’ll get you the details of the autopsy as soon as it comes in so no need to think about crashing the morgue.”

“As if I would ever,” I snorted.

“You just said...”

“No, I didn’t,” I lied. “You didn’t hear anything, remember?”

Garrett rolled his eyes.

I continued, ignoring him, “Stuart White was a freelance bookkeeper who lived on a ten-acre hobby farm at the edge of a small town in New Hampshire. He and his wife, Amanda, were both in their fifties, had no children, and led a quiet life. So far, not very interesting. Who are they?” I paused at the small passport photos of the couple. They looked so average, it was hard to acquaint them with knowing they were state witnesses.

“Keep reading,” said Garrett.

“Prior to becoming Stuart White and Amanda White, they were known as Jeff and Amy Denney. Oh, now that’s interesting,” I said, interrupting myself. “They lived under their new identities for almost a year while an investigation was conducted into the Victor crime syndicate, who are allegedly responsible for trafficking drugs through East Coast ports. Jeff Denney was the accountant in charge of the whole money side of the operation. Wow. I didn’t know we had drug gangs like this in our town.”

“Do you live under a rock?” asked Garrett.

“No.” I paused, briefly considering that. “Maybe? As much as anyone else?”

“It’s not as simple as that,” cut in Solomon. “When we mention gangs, the image we get is literally dangerous groups roaming the streets and visibly causing trouble. Openly dealing drugs, smashing windows, threatening people. Yet there are far more criminals that operate in the cyber sphere. Invisible to regular people and possibly not even on law enforcement radar. These types of criminals could even be masquerading as legitimate business people! They could be the moms and pops next door. Even if some of their business is operated out in the open, like the ports on the East Coast, through necessity, they don’t carry placards announcing they’re a cartel.”

“Fair point,” said Garrett.

“I feel better for not knowing anything about these people now,” I said. “So Jeff Denney was the accountant. Does a crime syndicate really need an accountant? I don’t see them filing taxes.”




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