Page 62 of Matthew
Matthew didn’t know what this was between them yet, he only knew what it wasn’t—it wasn’t expendable.
The quiet scrape of a chair alerted him to Caspian’s presence beside him.
“Was it like Juárez?” the former East Coast SEAL asked, his voice low.
Matthew glanced over, meeting his gaze. No judgment there, only memory and something close to respect.
“Same playbook,” he replied. “Different chapter.”
Caspian nodded once. Nothing more needed saying.
“Well, the lot numbers are fake,” Carter stated. “Label formatting matches what showed up in a DEA briefing ESI got pulled into last year—Eastland County job,” Carter said. “We were doing asset protection at the time. Local sheriff flagged the supplier as cartel-linked. Never turned into a full op, but it stuck with me.”
Matthew lifted a bag from the table in front of him and studied it. “Same supplier?”
“No, different front,” Carter replied, “the structure’s nearly identical, though. Phony invoice, clean-looking product,offshore account. The lot number formatting? Exact same style. Someone reused the framework.”
Caspian rubbed his jaw. “That was before our time, right?”
“Yeah,” Carter said. “Before you three came on. But I’ve kept tabs. I’ve also kept them on anything that smells as if it came from Duke’s orbit.”
Matthew’s jaw ticked. “Didn’t law enforcement freeze everything after his death?”
“They froze what they could prove belonged to him,” Carter replied, his voice sharpening. “Still, check this out.” He picked up a folder from the end of the table and handed it to Matthew. “I flagged the actual sender,GreenSpan Imports. The invoice was tucked inside the box. Appears to be a legit import business out of Arizona, but the shell company’s account is funded through an offshore bank tied toVantage Gulf Holdings. One of Duke’s. Paper trail’s thin, but we’re working it.”
Caspian narrowed his eyes. “GreenSpan?”
“Yeah,” Carter said, flipping the tablet toward them. “No online footprint. Two recent flagged invoices in Arizona, one on a DEA watchlist for suspicious packaging. And now they’re shipping through Callie’s nursery as if it’s a simple pallet of pest repellent.”
Matthew scratched his temple. “You said one of Duke’s?”
Carter nodded. “Yep.”
Bennett cursed under his breath. Matthew didn’t blame him. Thanks to Duke and his greed, Bennett’s woman had almost been killed a few months ago.
He frowned at the contents in the folder. “Unbelievable.”
“I know.” Carter sighed. “This shell company? Never appeared on paper. Just funneled through one of his holding firms. My guess? It was either overlooked, or someone reactivated it thinking nobody would be looking that far down the tree.”
Bennett gestured at the row of bags. “Somebody’s trying to reboot something, quietly. And they’re using Callie’s business to do it.”
Matthew’s grip on the folder tightened. “Gabe know about this shipment?”
“Yeah,” Carter said, nodding. “I called him when Caspian dropped it off. Gave him the basics. He’s letting us run with it for now, unofficially. Said as long as it stays confined to the nursery and no laws are broken, we can take first pass.” He tapped the corner of the tablet with his finger. “Of course, if this leaks out—if it touches another property or even sniffs of a wider drop—he’s stepping in. Hard.”
Matthew exhaled through his nose. “Fair enough.”
Bennett tapped on one of the bags and blew out a breath. “Using a clean nursery with no red flags, no history. Smart move.”
“Yeah. They chose Callie’s business because it wouldn’t raise suspicion,” Matthew said quietly. “They knew no one would look twice.”
He hated that. Hated the precision of it.
Matthew handed the folder to Bennett and stared at the bag in front of him, running a hand across the smooth plastic seal.
The enemy hadn’t disappeared.
It had gotten quieter.
