Cut in darkness, p.10
Cut in Darkness, page 10
The three of us made our way to the cottage, where I offered everyone coffee, tea, or wine.
“Nothing, thank you,” Declan said.
“Well, I’m having a glass of wine,” Ty said. “Brooke?” he offered while pulling the cork from an already opened bottle of merlot.
“I’m good.” I’d have mine when the man before me wasn’t looking at me like I’d just put his dog to sleep. “Want to sit?”
“Sure.” Declan walked over to the sofa. He sat, crossed an ankle over his opposite knee, then eyed me expectantly.
I paused in front of him and held up a finger. “Give me a minute to remove my gun.” I went to my bedroom, removed the holster and the Sig from between my breasts, and placed it on the dresser. I immediately felt more comfortable. I went to grab a pair of jeans from the closet, and paused as I studied the open closet doors. I thought I remembered closing them earlier. I shrugged; it wasn’t unlike me to leave them open. I pulled on the jeans and returned to the living room.
Ty was sitting in a chair with his glass of wine and was already logging into his laptop to record whatever Declan had to present to us. I tucked a leg underneath me on the couch, facing Declan. When I looked into his eyes, what I saw there wasn’t anger, but worry.
“I ran some tests on your drug.”
Ty looked up from his computer and took a sip of wine.
“And?” I said.
“It seems that the senator’s daughter got a hold of a frighteningly strong drug called carfentanil.”
“Carfentanil? That’s an even stronger opioid than fentanyl,” Ty said. He set down his wine and began typing.
“A hundred times stronger,” Declan said. “And fentanyl is already ten to fifty times stronger than heroin.”
Ty stared at something on his computer, and his eyes widened. “You’re not kidding. It’s take-down-an-elephant strong. Carfentanil is literally used as an elephant tranquilizer.”
“A couple granules of pure carfentanil on your hand could be absorbed into your skin and cause you to overdose in seconds,” Declan said.
“Shit.” I stood and paced. “I knew carfentanil was on the streets in some major metropolitan areas, but I’ve never heard of any hitting Central Kentucky.”
“It says here they’ve seen an increase of carfentanil in Cincinnati,” Ty said.
“That’s right,” I replied. “Cincinnati has seen a huge increase in overdoses since carfentanil first appeared in March.”
Declan leaned forward and linked his fingers. “Drug addiction is already one of the toughest health crises out there, and when dealers are willing to introduce something as scary as carfentanil…”
“You end up with a spike in overdoses in a short period of time.”
“And deaths,” Declan added. “A lot of first responders don’t know how to treat these overdoses.”
“What I gave you, then, couldn’t have been straight carfentanil,” I said.
“No. A deadly dose of carfentanil can be as small as a few grains of salt. What you gave me was a small percentage of heroin cut with baby laxative, and a trace amount of carfentanil.”
Ty was still looking at his screen. “It says here that only certain large animal veterinarians can even get access to carfentanil legally.”
“But it can be purchased on the black market over the internet,” Declan said. He wasn’t relaxed, but he was easing into the discussion with us and swallowing his anger for now. “From the research I did, you can order it from dealers in China. We all saw in May just how easy it is to deal on the dark web.”
“Like on Amber Road,” I added. Amber Road was an online marketplace protected by dark web servers that made it nearly impossible to trace buyers and sellers. There were entire teams at the Bureau assigned to trying to shut down these sites, but it was like playing whack-a-mole. You’d take one site offline only to see a half dozen take its place.
“And let’s not forget what the Mexican cartels can get their hands on,” Ty said.
I walked over and grabbed Ty’s glass of wine. When he lifted his gaze to meet mine, I shrugged. “What? I think this calls for a drink.”
Declan stood and walked to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of bourbon he’d left behind on an earlier visit, poured two glasses, and added a couple of ice cubes to each. He handed me one glass as he took a sip from the other.
I took a sip as well, closing my eyes tightly as I let the spicy-sweet notes of oak, honey, and vanilla light up the taste receptors in my mouth.
“So,” I said, turning back to Ty. “We know what the drug is. How do we figure out who’s putting it out on the streets? And in what form? Are they all the same powder the senator gave us?” And was Samael’s Army responsible for this drug?
“I thought you were supposed to be investigating Angela Westbrook’s murder, not who’s trafficking drugs in Lexington,” Declan said.
“It was the drug that killed her, so that’s as good a thread to pull as any.”
“Was tonight’s outing part of your investigation?” Declan asked.
“What?” I faced him, stalling. “Um… actually, yes.”
“And what did you find out? And before you tell me it’s none of my business, let me—”
“I wasn’t going to say it was none of your business.” I took another sip of bourbon and let my eyes dart toward Ty, who took the hint.
“I’m just going to go take a shower,” he said. “You can fill Declan in on what we learned, and you and I can pick up on this investigation tomorrow in between cheeseburgers and sparklers.” Ty exited, leaving Declan and me in a faceoff.
“The police arrested Gray Packstone tonight,” I said. “I didn’t get close enough to hear if they gave any hint as to why.” But I was sure the security footage played a significant role.
“You never thought her death was accidental, did you?”
“I never thought she was alone, naked, in a swimming pool snorting heroin.” I took another sip of bourbon. “That doesn’t necessarily mean her death wasn’t an accident, but even if Gray Packstone only purchased a bad batch of heroin and passed it along to his girlfriend, he could still be charged with reckless homicide. And it would be an easy conviction. Especially if the two girls can confirm they delivered the drug to Gray. I can already put him at the scene”—again, thanks to the videos—“and it makes sense that he supplied the drug to Angela. That’s means and opportunity. But if I can, I also want to link the drug Angela took with the drug that’s caused all the trouble in downtown Lexington. If we can link the drugs, and prove that Gray and other Samael’s Army members knew about its potency, then we’ve got a whole slew of drug charges. And assuming they got the drugs from outside the area, we’re looking at RICO statute offenses as well.”
Declan took the bourbon glass from my hand and set both of our drinks by the kitchen sink. He returned to me, put his hands on my shoulders. “We’re not going to stop the bad guys tonight.” He crooked a finger under my chin and directed my face toward his. The corners of his lips lifted slightly. “You can tell me about the motorcycle club party on the drive to Shaughnessy.”
“You want me to go with you back to the farm? But I have a bed right in there,” I said.
“Ty can have your bed.” He reached down and gave my hand a tug toward the door.
“You assume a lot.” I tugged my hand back, and he faced me, worry in his eyes.
I rose to my toes and placed a kiss at the corner of his lips. “I don’t go anywhere without my service weapon and my phone.” I turned on my heel, leaving him grinning after me.
When we got to the farm, we went straight upstairs. Surprisingly, Declan didn’t immediately try to seduce me. Instead, he went to the bathroom and drew a bath.
I stood in the doorway, watching him sprinkle bath salts into the steaming water. “What are you doing?”
“You’re tense. I thought you might like to relax.” Taking a lighter from a small basket, he lit several votive candles around the tub.
“Do I look tense?”
After running his hand through the water to stir up the salts, he approached me. He wrapped me in his arms, resting his chin on top of my head. “You worry me.”
I tilted my head back. “Why? I’m careful.”
He had remained silent on the drive to Shaughnessy while I’d shared what had happened at Samael’s Army’s clubhouse—but I had seen his grip on the steering wheel tighten when I told him about Gray taking me up to the studio apartment. I thought about Gray’s promise to hunt me down and kill me—something I hadn’t shared with Declan—and wondered if I was being careful enough.
Declan stared down into my eyes. “This is a motorcycle gang, Brooke.” He paused and pressed my head against his chest, smoothing my hair. “If you’re going to try to take down the whole operation, you’re going to need an army of agents. I’m not sure even the Lexington Police has enough manpower. You can’t be going this alone.”
“You’re right.” The soothing sound of the running water made me want to block out the case for the rest of night, so I vowed to do just that. “And that’s where my conversation with Special Agent Marshall and Director Waller will begin… tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed. “For now, crawl into the bath. I’m going to get us some tea.”
“Tea?”
“I hear chamomile can be helpful for sleep.”
I let my lips curl into a smile. Declan simply reached out and cupped my cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
He exited the bedroom, and I immediately slipped out of my clothes and into the oversized marble bathtub. The steamy water smelled of lavender. I winced as the heat registered against my skin.
Leaning my head back against the bath pillow, I let out a heavy sigh and closed my eyes. I could see the flicker of the candles beyond my lids, and though I tried to think of other things, my mind kept wandering to the party. But it wasn’t Gray I was thinking about; it was Charley. Specifically, the look of sadness I’d seen in her eyes.
For over a year, I had developed an intimate relationship with sadness. I knew what someone looked like when they were sad; I knew what they looked like when they were attempting to mask depression. And Charley Packstone was definitely sad. Tonight she couldn’t hide it.
I was so deep in thought that I was startled when Declan returned and stepped into the oversized bath with me. My eyes sprang open. He slid in behind me and let me lean against his chest. When we were situated, he handed me a mug of hot tea.
As I took a sip, Declan reached for a natural sponge, squirted some gel on it, and began to run it along my arms and chest. “No more thinking about the case tonight,” he whispered.
“How do you know what I’m thinking about?”
“I could tell by the way your eyes were moving behind your lids when I walked in.” He continued to run the sponge along my body, and I sank further against him. “That’s it,” he whispered.
I felt him take the mug from my fingers. It didn’t take long for me to relax completely in his arms. I didn’t stop to think about how I had managed to end up back at Declan’s house when I knew we should be slowing our relationship. All I knew was that I needed him, and that I was defenseless against him.
We must have lain there for twenty minutes before Declan spoke again. “We’re turning into prunes.”
“Shh. I don’t care,” I said with my eyes closed.
He kissed the side of my head, then leaned me up. He climbed out of the tub while I just slumped there. He tied a towel around his waist, then reached a hand down to help me.
“My muscles are jelly,” I said, and he laughed.
Once I was out of the tub, he wrapped a giant bath towel around me, then scooped me up in his arms and cradled me against his chest. He carried me the short distance to the bed and deposited me under the covers. When he climbed in beside me, I snuggled in close and whispered in his ear, “I think I have a little energy left.”
He smiled. “Well, I think I know exactly how we can expend it.”
Chapter 12
Declan
“Thank you, Maggie.” I tried to keep my voice to a whisper so as not to wake Brooke. “Keep me posted as you find out more.”
I hung up and stared out my window as morning dawned on the fields at the back of my horse farm. I had chosen the farmland near Midland because it was a quiet, peaceful place to call home. I didn’t like it when something disturbed that peace.
And while I could appreciate the love someone might have for riding a Harley-Davidson on country roads and feeling the exhilaration of a cool breeze sweeping across his face, I did not appreciate anyone who used the liberating passion of road biking as a way to mask their criminal activity.
I had met Gray Packstone once, not long ago—at a fundraiser for the University of Kentucky Children’s Hospital; my own foundation had made a sizable donation to a new cancer wing. Gray had arrived at the fundraiser with Angela Westbrook, and had played with the children who were well enough to attend the event. He was a personable guy, and he was good with the children. But he was also Garrard Packstone’s son, and anyone attached to that man had to have at least a little bad in him.
I rubbed my fingers across the whiskers on my jaw. Did I really believe that Gray was necessarily a bad seed, just because he was a product of a bad father?
No. I didn’t.
A shrink would have a field day analyzing that one with me.
I made my way down the spiral staircase from my office to my bedroom. I paused to stare at Brooke sleeping soundly in my bed. Some days it was easy with her. Easy to laugh. Easy conversation. Easy to feel something for her. And seeing her finally resting, safe inside my house, my bed, it calmed me. I wanted her right here always.
It would happen. Eventually.
I knew that Brooke was still mourning a husband she’d lost tragically shortly after they’d married, and a child she never knew. And, quite frankly, Brooke was pissed off at the people who had taken those things from her, and scared they had the ability to do it again. I knew these things, though we never spoke of them.
She twitched in her sleep. Whimpered slightly.
She didn’t often have nightmares, but she was sometimes plagued with restless sleeping.
I crawled in beside her, brought the covers up, and pulled her in close to my body. She shifted, snuggled in closer, then grabbed my arm and hugged it to her chest. “Why are you up?” she asked, with the voice of someone who’d just woken.
“Needed to make a phone call.”
“I probably should get up.”
“No, you shouldn’t. It’s a holiday.”
“Bad guys don’t rest on holidays.”
“Mmm,” I said. “How about I cook breakfast, then we can discuss the day.”
“Hard to pass that up.” She turned over and hooked a leg with mine.
“You’re not making it easy for me to get out of bed,” I laughed.
A playful grin lit up her eyes. “I wasn’t going for easy.”
Yeah, sometimes it was easy with Brooke. I framed her face and touched my lips to hers. Maybe today would be one of the easy days.
Chapter 13
By the time I had showered and dressed in jeans, a T-shirt with an American flag, and a blazer, I could smell the scent of coffee and bacon. I grabbed my gun and phone off the dresser and went down to the kitchen, where I found Declan beating eggs with one hand and drinking coffee with the other. He was dressed in a pair of navy swim trunks and a T-shirt.
When he saw me, his face fell. “You’re dressed for work, Special Agent Fairfax.”
“Have to go in. I told you, the bad guys don’t rest on holidays.” I poured myself a cup of coffee in a mug that read FBI on one side and “Full Blooded Irish” on the other. It was a gift from Ty to Declan. And it was my favorite. It was better than the dinky porcelain cups some interior designer had told Declan he needed in his kitchen.
When my coffee was doctored with cream and sugar, I moved closer to Declan and ran my hand along his back. “You appear to be taking the holiday off, though.” I let my hand travel to his hip and around to his stomach.
He poured the eggs into a skillet. They sizzled as they hit the heat. “I was hoping to talk you into a swim.”
“Rain check?”
“Sure. But be back here by one, or I’m coming looking for you. Let’s spend this afternoon by the pool, and we’ll see the fireworks tonight.”
I thought about it for a minute, studied the look in his eyes. “Sounds good. Can I invite Ty?”
He drew back slightly. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I’m serious.”
“Brooke, you don’t need to ask permission to invite someone here. I want you to feel comfortable coming and going as you please. Besides, I already invited him.”
“Great. Ty and I will work this morning and be back here after lunch.” I pulled away, attempting to hide my discomfort, and took a drink of my coffee.
A firm hand to my forearm told me I had failed at hiding. “Why are you turning away from me?”
“I’m not.” I nodded toward his skillet. “I’m just saving you from burning those eggs.”
“Shit!” He turned and tended to the scrambled eggs.
I chuckled, but felt I had saved us both from an uncomfortable conversation.
I crossed to a cabinet and took down a couple of plates. The least I could do was set a table. Armed with plates, silverware, and napkins, I assembled the place settings on a round kitchen table overlooking his back patio and swimming pool. I paused to gaze out at the retired brood mares in the back field. A girl could get used to the view here.
“Brooke,” Declan said behind me.
I turned and tried to hide my face by taking another drink of coffee. “Hmm?”
“Why don’t you move in with me?”
I lowered my mug and stared at him. It took me one, two, three beats before I recovered. I waved him off. “Declan, we’ve barely known each other five minutes. Besides,” I swallowed hard, “you don’t have enough room in this house for me.”
