Page 32 of Montana Justice

“You’re doing fine,” Beckett said quietly. “Better than fine. You’re stepping up.”

“Hunter’s not wrong, though.” I forced the words out. “I don’t trust her. Not completely. I want to trust her, but…”

“But she’s already betrayed that trust once.” Hunter’s voice had gentled. “Look, I get it. And you helped me with Jada last year, put everything on the line, no questions asked. So what I’m saying is not just me being an asshole. It’s me trying to look out for you.”

“What would you do?” I asked him directly. “If it was your kid?”

Hunter was quiet for a long moment. “Same thing you’re doing, probably. Try to protect the kid while keeping one eye on the mother. It’s a shit situation.”

“Yeah. It is.”

We drank in silence, the weight of it all pressing down. I scrubbed a hand over my face. I didn’t want to talk about the Piper situation anymore. Not until I got it more figured out in my head.

“Speaking of shit situations.” I pulled my phone back from the middle of the table. “We had another overdose this morning.”

Three heads snapped up.

“Another one?” Lucas’s voice was grim. “That’s two this week.”

“College kid from Billings, visiting friends at Montana Tech.” My jaw tightened. “Fentanyl-laced pills. They couldn’t revive him.”

“Fuck.” Beckett ran a hand through his hair. “How old?”

“Nineteen.” The number sat heavy in my gut. “Kid had his whole life ahead of him. Now, his parents are driving down from Great Falls to identify the body.”

“Same source as the last one?” Hunter had shifted into tactical mode.

“Similar pills, same blue marking. The state lab is running tests, but I’d bet money it’s the same batch.” I took another pull of beer, trying to wash away the image of that kid’s face. “The high school’s implementing emergency protocols. Training staff on naloxone administration, keeping doses in the nurse’s office.”

“It’s spreading fast,” Lucas observed. “Two deaths in a week means there’re probably dozens more using who haven’t overdosed yet.”

“That’s what keeps me up at night.” Well, that and everything else. “We need to find the source before more kids die.”

“Could be connected to the weapons trafficking we’ve been tracking,” Hunter said. “Same networks often run multiple products. Use the same distribution channels, same storage facilities.”

“Any new intel on that?”

“Actually, yeah.” Hunter pulled out his phone, showing me a map with several locations marked. “Increased activity around these abandoned properties north of town. Vehicles coming and going at odd hours, lights when buildings should be empty.”

I memorized the locations. “I’ll get extra patrols up there. Quiet surveillance for now—we don’t want to spook them before we know what we’re dealing with.”

“Warrior Security team can help with that,” Hunter offered. “We’ve got some new surveillance equipment that might be useful. Thermal imaging, long-range cameras.”

“I’ll take whatever help you can give.” Pride had no place when kids were dying. “This is bigger than what my department can handle alone.”

“What about bringing in the DEA?” Beckett asked.

“Already made the call. They’re stretched thin, said it could be weeks before they can send anyone.” My frustration bled through. Small towns weren’t always the DEA’s priority. “By then, how many more kids will be dead?”

“So, we handle it ourselves,” Lucas said simply. “Between your department and Warrior Security, we’ve got the resources.”

“Carefully,” I emphasized. “By the book. I want arrests that stick, not cowboys playing hero.”

Hunter’s smile was sharp. “When have we ever played cowboy?”

“Jada’s kidnapping ring any bells?”

“That was different. That was personal.”

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