Page 45 of Claimed By the Deputies

Tyler hands me my drink, kisses my cheek, then looks down at the files. One sip of scotch later and I’m on a roll.

“So, I’ve been able to identify clusters.”

“Clusters?” Mitch asks, his eyebrows arched in surprise.

“Clusters of suspects, victims, persons of interest,” I explain. “The thing about organizations is they all function on a similar basis. The bigger they are, the harder they become to contain. That’s when clusters are formed, each run by a middle manager of sorts. And they handle their affairs in clumps too.”

“You mean the two murders,” Lucas says.

I nod. “And the drug dealing. You’ve got three street corners on the same block with recorded, frequent activity, for example. You’ve got the Hamilton drugstore on 5th street, right?”

“Right.”

“And then there are the dealers, the distributors, and the suppliers. Johnson and Jade fall into the same cluster. The Silver Stallions are the biggest cluster of them all, obviously. And I’ll bet you sweet money you might be able to get Johnson and Jade to rope in a couple more dealers from the aforementioned street corners into this, too. They’re pushing the same drugs, paying the same suppliers?—”

“Which falls under the MC,” Tyler says, following my red thread across the files.

“Exactly. There is always a pattern of habits and behaviors to follow, especially in a criminal organization,” I continue. “First and foremost, you’re going to need eyes on the MC’s prospects. They’re usually tasked with transport and distribution. They’re young and inexperienced, and most likely to slip up first.”

“They’re also pretty loyal,” Lucas says, understandably doubtful.

“I found a third possible connecting thread, and I’m not buying their official statement, not even for a second,” I say. “Armand Hamilton.”

“Lucas called it,” Tyler chuckles.

“I know you had suspicions,” I tell Lucas, “but I may have found something more concrete. First of all, the statement was written and signed by his aide, Jerry Spring. It also featured the mayor’s stamp.”

Lucas nods slowly. “Yes, I’ve gone over it before. I spoke to Jerry over the phone. I even approached the mayor about it. I got the same line, every time.”

“But what you didn’t get is this,” I say, pulling up records from my phone. “Jerry Spring, Stuart Johnson, and William Jade were all on the same football team in high school, the Frost Valley Cougars. Same years, same coach. They were tight when they were kids. Really tight.”

Mitch laughs in amazement. “Without Johnson and Jade, we never would’ve made this connection. Holy hell, Tassia.”

“It doesn’t mean they’re still tight, but if it stinks, there has to be a reason, right?” I reply with a wicked smile, my synapses firing as I revisit my own conclusions.

“We need to take a closer look at Jerry Spring. This doesn’t mean the mayor had anything to do with it, but we need to check,” Lucas says, retaining his healthy skepticism.

“You’re going to make me work harder, I see.” I chuckle and pull up another round of files from my phone, air dropping eachdocument to their devices. “Armand Hamilton II’s wife, Farrah. Look who she dated in high school. Prom king and queen.”

“Jerry Spring,” Tyler mumbles. “Shit.”

“Do you think you can figure out a way to look into the mayor’s personal finance records?” I ask. “And his son’s. He’s probably still moving a lot of money through Armand Jr.’s accounts.”

“Junior moved out after his wife died,” Mitch says.

“And he’s technically out of the picture. But if I were Daddy Dearest, and I had some dirty money to move around, I’d use whatever account I had available, including my kid’s.”

“Okay. But again, all we have are circumstantial connections between Jerry Spring, the mayor, and this drug network,” Lucas insists.

I air drop another file. “Take a look at what I just sent you. It took me a while to fish it out, but all the hours I spent pouring over Farrah’s social media profile finally paid off.”

Their phones ping and I watch as each of them open the photo file. I find myself smiling as their eyes widen with genuine surprise.

“Is that…?” Tyler gasps.

“Mayor Armand Hamilton, his son and daughter-in-law, and Jerry Spring at a fundraiser five years ago for the Frost Valley Cougars. Stuart Johnson and William Jade are posing beside them, holding up a fat donation check. Look how happy they are,” I say, then deliver my final point. “I pulled up the list of attending guests from that charity event. It was a pretty big deal in town.”

Lucas nods his head slowly as he stares at the picture. “We hadn’t come back from the service yet.”

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