Page 41 of Havoc

“All that,” Havoc said, running a hand through his hair, “and he still has time to harass women? When the hell does this guy sleep?”

Hacker chuckled humorlessly. “He has at least four burner phones registered to false identities. If we get our hands on those, I’d bet my last dollar they’ll show call logs tied to known dealers and maybe even that accountant.”

The pieces were falling into place—fast and terrifying. But I needed to know one more thing. “How long do you think Slater’s been behind the drug trade in Griffinsford?”

Hacker scrolled through files, quiet for a moment. Then he looked up. “Five years. That’s when he joined the local PD. His first large deposit showed up that same month. Before that, he lived with his father.”

“So he stepped into a police job with zero experience?”

“His record in Cavar County was spotless,” Hacker said. “Either he went from boy scout to criminal overnight… or he was already working with his father, who made sure nothing showed up on paper.”

Havoc nodded slowly. “We need to find out what his father’s into—and how far up this shit goes.”

“I checked him out,” Hacker said. “He’s not ex-military. Failed his psych eval. But he’s worked for several civilian contractors. Still gets payments from two companies—Burdock and Black Oak. They aren’t major players, but they’ve got federal contracts for transporting pharmaceuticals between rehab centers and federal prisons.”

Havoc leaned back in his chair, frowning. “So the father runs legal drug transport while the son deals illegal drugs on the street. That’s some next-level hypocrisy.”

I finally spoke up with my own theory. “What if they were both working in tandem? Some pharmaceutical drugs are extremely expensive. Some cancer meds cost thousands of dollars a dose. Imagine what that would be worth on the black market if a case went missing here and there during transport—let alone if an entire truckload was hijacked. And it’s practically a victimless crime, because I’m sure the shipments are insured.”

Hacker didn’t look surprised in the least. “I was about to get to that part, but you’re right. I suspect the father is selling the high-dollar meds he skims from the shipments, and narcotics are getting cut and passed off to the son to move through his own channels.”

“It reminds me of the old saying, ‘Waste not, want not,’” I added.

“Exactly. I went through all this with Storm and the other club officers earlier while you two were sleeping.”

“I can’t believe the whole damn system is rigged,” Havoc muttered hotly. He looked more upset than I was, his face flushed with anger.

“The problem is, we don’t have hard proof of what’s going on,” Hacker added. “It’s all based on statements from dealers trying to cut deals, your theory, and bank records that Slater and his old man have probably already figured out some shitty way to explain.”

“What if we wait for them to skim a load and then find a way to intercept the drugs?” I suggested.

Both men turned to stare at me, wearing identical expressions of disbelief and disapproval.

Havoc’s voice was firm. “We’re not a one percent club, Riley. We don’t sell drugs, traffic women, or deal in illegal weapons.”

“How about if you gave the drugs away?” I asked quietly.

That caught them both off guard.

Havoc opened his mouth to object, but I cut him off. “Please, hear me out. The way I know about the cost of cancer meds is because my grandmother died of cancer.” I felt myself tearing up but pushed through the lump in my throat. “She needed medication that cost thirty grand a dose. At first, she got help from the pharmaceutical company. Then a state charity helped. When that dried up, I started selling everything we had. But in the end, we just ran out of money.”

“You’re saying she died because she couldn’t afford the meds?” Havoc’s voice was hoarse with disbelief.

“I’m saying the meds worked,” I clarified. “She went into remission more than once. I believe she could’ve gone into remission again—if she’d gotten what she needed.”

Hacker looked straight at me, his tone gentler than usual. “That’s not how it’s supposed to work. There are programs to help people.”

“You’re not wrong. But those programs have rules. My gran was too old, her survival odds too low. So she got put on a waiting list. And she waited herself to death.”

Havoc’s expression shifted to one of empathy. “I know you’re trying to save people, Riley. I’m just not sure our officers would agree to stealing from the federal government—even for a good cause. And there’s no guarantee Slater’s old man even targets meds like that.”

“I’ll tell you what I know,” I said, voice steady now. “If they’re smart enough to skim drugs from secure shipments, they’re targeting the most expensive ones. You wouldn’t be stealing from the government—you’d be stealing from the people who already stole it. That’s not wrong. That’s justice.”

A voice drifted from the doorway. “I fucking agree. Even one case could save lives.”

We all turned to see Storm and Celt standing in the doorway.

Hacker turned his wheelchair towards them. “Didn’t hear you two come in.”

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