Page 13 of Cooper's Command

Emery snorted. “So, someone’s cutting it after it arrives.”

“Appears that way, which is common. The big question is how much fentanyl are they using? Just enough to increase the high and dependency? Or do they have another agenda. None of which we’ll know until we get it analyzed because it looks like those other bricks have been rewrapped, which suggests they’ve already been cut. Regardless, this is definitely going to need my brand of help.” Nova eased over and nudged Emery. “If you’re still okay working with me?”

“This might be the first time in my career I actually enjoy an interagency case.”

“I’m sure I’ll find a way to have you questioning that before the assignment’s over. But in the meantime, I’d like to run everything through your department. While I haven’t seen this satellite office, I doubt it has the kind of facilities we’ll needto process everything. And I’d rather not have all this evidence crossing the ocean to O’ahu.”

“Not a problem. I’ll call my boss — let him know we’ll be working with you on this. Paulin, too, I guess.”

“Not if I can help it.” Nova coughed. “Did I say that out loud?”

Emery grinned. “Definitely a perfect match. I’ll have CSI bag everything as soon as the proper protective gear arrives. You coming?”

“I realize I can’t really scout around, but I’d like to take a few photos of those bags while I’m waiting for Cooper to report back. Even if it’s just from the doorway.”

“Right. He’s here on official business only.”

“Not you, too?”

“All I’m going to say is that Cooper looks at you the way I look at Flint.” She turned then stopped and reached into her pocket before handing Nova a mask and some gloves and booties. “This goes against the voice in my head because this isn’t enough protection for long term exposure. But they’ll work in a pinch if you only take a quick peak in there. And we both know you’re going to poke around while you’re waiting for Cooper. Just keep it short and don’t actually touch any powder.”

Nova put them on, waiting until Emery had walked off before carefully picking her way across the floor to the bricks someone had obviously dropped during their escape. What had likely been a much larger shipment.

She crouched low, using the tip of a pen to shift the bundles in order to get a better look without actually touching them. See if she recognized the way they’d been batched. Not that it would be definitive proof, but after slogging it with drug lords for over a decade, she’d dealt with most of the major players. And they all had a signature of sorts.

The fact they’d used a single piece of duct tape to hold the plastic wrap didn’t give many clues — narrow it down that much. She flipped it over, studying how they’d folded the wrap when a thin strip of blue caught her attention. What resembled the remnants of tape.

Leaning in closer confirmed it was definitely tape, the inside edge jagged where it had been torn off. Which, in itself, was an anomaly. From her experience, drug dealers didn’t used colored tape or anything else that would make their batches stand out — give the DEA a means of tracking them. In fact, it looked more like the kind she wrapped around bricks before placing them in evidence.

A shiver wove down her spine, more than a few scenarios bouncing around inside her head. None of which were good.

On a whim she rose and started looking around the room. While she had no idea when the tape had been removed, the torn edge had bits of powder stuck to the glue, which suggested the dealers might have ripped it off inside the room — when they’d been planning on cutting more batches before getting interrupted.

A few minutes of searching one side didn’t boost her confidence — had Cartwright’s words repeating inside her head. Scouring the other half and finding nothing only reinforced all the doubts her boss had instilled in the ten minutes he’d been onscreen.

She moved into the other room, wishing she could do as Cooper had suggested and leave the corpse to Emery, but something about the way the body was positioned was nagging at her. Like a shadow that hadn’t quite taken shape, yet. She removed the protection Emery had given her, leaving it at the edge of the doorway then rummaged through the guard’s pockets, cursing when she came up empty.

Until she glanced at his hand — the one fisted at his side, a scrap of blue peeking out from between his fingers.

Nova checked to ensure the hallway was clear before using the hem of her shirt to pry the guard’s fingers apart without leaving any kind of traceable evidence, in case this was one of those mistakes Cartwright had mentioned. The kind that suggested her inner voice had taken a dive off the deep end. Seeing a long strip of balled up tape had her inhaling. Checking her six, again, before easing the length free then slowly unwrapping it.

Martin. Bo…

The rest had been smeared but seeing her name was all she needed to know her gut was right.

Sensing a flicker of movement in the hallway got her onto her feet in record time, that tape shoved into her pocket. She turned, watching the far wall when a shadow wavered on the drywall. What looked like the silhouette of a man. She made a dash for the corridor, skidding to a halt at the threshold but the hallway was empty, not even the echo of footsteps lingering in the air.

Had she imagined it? A byproduct of the stress? Of suspecting she was being played by her own agency? Or had she lost her edge? Somehow missed some perp hiding in the shadows.

Maybe Cooper was right, and she needed to take some time off because she couldn’t help but feel as if she was chasing ghosts.

Or maybe just Tate’s.

She looked back at the corpse, wondering if she should continue her search, when her phone rang. And she bet her ass she knew who was on the other line.

“Martin.”

“Hello, Nova.”

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