Page 68 of The Harborer
A closer look at the map had revealed that one of the red triangles lined up perfectly with the spot Shane had marked after the car chase. Though he hadn’t been the one to gather the bag of narcotics tossed from the beige pickup, the other red triangle lay close to Mountain Coffee, and he had no doubt it matched the spot where Chesterton had retrieved it.
As for the black circles with the dots in the middle, Shane suspected they were either drop or pickup sites. Some were in the middle of nowhere while others ringed Fall River and lay along the highway in and out of town. Fall River seemed to be the epicenter of whatever the hell was going on, with Mountain Coffee in the cross hairs. The blue square labeled with the lettersSthad been penned over top of the store’s location. He couldn’t even begin to guess what the other blue square indicated. He was trying to solve a puzzle so he could see the picture, but he didn’t have all the pieces.
Andy yanked Shane back to the pickup counter. “I’ll credit your card and put a rush on this replacement order.”
“How soon do you think it’ll be here?”
“Next week.”
“Next week?Dude, that’s not a rush. That’s going to take as much time as these did.”
Andy shrugged. “They’re out of stock. I can arrange for you to pick them up in Denver or the Springs, if you need ’em sooner. You got some extra bad hombres you’re trying to catch in the act of stealing lawn gnomes?” The guy smirked, and Shane wanted to pull his stupid red vest over his head.
“Yeah, I’m after a ring of gnome thieves,” Shane growled.Idiot.
An hour later, he stood at Mountain Coffee’s back door, hands on his hips as he inspected the entry points. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, but nothing jumped out and raised any red flags.
Amy had texted him during his Durango boondoggle that she was going to take a nap, so he headed to the Sheriff’s Department, even though hestillwasn’t on duty. Gunderson was manning the front desk again when Shane walked in.
“Jeez, dude. Don’t you have a life outside of this office?” the guy joked.
“Look who’s talking.” Shane leaned his palms against the counter. “I wanted to check in and find out if there were any new developments.”
Gunderson leaned back in his chair. “You’re talking about the fentanyl that got tossed over by Mountain Coffee?” Shane nodded. “DEA was here first thing to pick it up. No surprise, the agent said that without testing it, there was no way to confirm whether it was real or counterfeit. He also said they’ve been seeing a lot of analogs lately.”
Shane’s eyebrows smacked his hairline. “Like carfentanil?”
Gunderson nodded. “Among other things.”
Fuck. “Jesus, that’s really bad news.”
“Yeah, I wish they’d use some other county to distribute this shit. Better yet, I wish they’d stop distributing this shit.”
“They’ve got the perfect setup here,” Shane noted grimly. The territory covered two hundred and forty-eightthousandacres, made up of wilderness and the San Juan National Forest. Rugged, mountainous, treacherous. With a meager staff spread thinly over that vast terrain, it was a miracle that more criminals hadn’t set up shop in the county. “Even if we had enough manpower, we couldn’t keep an eye on all of it.”
“Yeah, and drones can’t see through the canopies.” The phone rang, and Gunderson answered.
Shane headed to the giant map that took up most of one wall, skating past Donna’s office. The door was closed today, but he could see Donna through a small window. Headset on her grayhead, she sat behind a desk that held several monitors, phones, and a radio console. She sent him a wink and a smile, and he returned both.
As he stood in front of the map, he looked back and forth between the picture he’d taken in Amy’s office and the map itself. Then he loped back to the front counter, where Gunderson was no longer on a call.
“Hey, let me ask you something.” Shane held up his phone and pointed at one of the numbered black dots. “This is in your jurisdiction. Is there a trailhead here?”
Gunderson lifted the phone from Shane’s grasp and frowned as he studied it. “Nope.” Shane’s shoulders sank in disappointment, but then Gunderson manipulated the image and pointed. “The trailhead’s here, about a half mile from the dot.”
Excitement straightened Shane’s posture. He scrolled to a different dot. “What about this one?”
“Same, only that one’s maybe three-quarters of a mile.” Shane showed him a half dozen more marks, all of them in the national forest. Gunderson confirmed that every single one was near a trailhead. “Whatcha got there, anyway?”
“I’m not sure yet.” It was an evasion, but Shanedidn’tknow. Not for sure. There was a lot he didn’t know.
“O’Brien,” Sheriff Chesterton barked from his office, where the door stood ajar. The guy’s hearing was stellar. “See you in my office?”
Shane walked in and sat when Chesterton signaled for him to. A call buzzed through, and Chesterton picked it up, leaving Shane to look around at four walls so familiar he knew what hung on each one without having to look. Could he see himself here one day?Nah.
Chesterton let out a forced laugh. He was good-old-boying with someone on the other end of the line in an obvious ploy to pry out a donation for his campaign. Shane tapped his thumb against his thigh in a rhythm that mimicked his growing impatience. It was his day off. He had things to do. A hunch tochase. An Amy to see. Although depending on what he uncovered as he sniffed out more clues, seeing her might not bring him the same joy it usually did. It could bring a world of dread instead.
Chesterton ended the call, stared at the black desk phone, and his jolly demeanor dissolved. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. He scrubbed a hand over his face and expelled a tired sigh from his barrel chest. “God, I’ll be glad when this election is over.” He gave Shane a gimlet-eyed look. “What’d you find out when you spoke to Caufield? She know anything about a drug delivery near her place?”
