Page 32 of Stone
“Two men followed me to Mystery Lake. Well, they didn’t physically followmethere, but we think Lowery grabbed myplate number. It would be an easy thing for his partner in crime to find my address with that,” Juliana said.
Anna studied her with weirdly watery blue eyes that were somehow also sharp. “That is unfortunate,” she said.
“We have guys watching them. One of them broke into her house this morning and planted listening devices and cameras,” Simon added.
Anna frowned. “I would have expected them to just kill you. Set a bomb or something like that. Devices like cameras can be found and traced.”
Juliana thought a bomb could be traceable, too, but Anna did have a point. What were they hoping to learn with cameras and listening devices?
“Maybe they haven’t escalated to killing and it’s a step they aren’t willing to take yet?” she suggested.
Anna arched a thin brow. “The drugs that Polinsky’s people let out on the street have killed four people. One was a kid. I wouldn’t go around attributing any morality to them.”
“So construction sites are being used for deals?” Simon said. Anna nodded, confirming their assumption. “Which is why we’re seeing an increase in petty crime in the areas. It’s collateral to the main crime.”
Again, she nodded. “I started looking into the drugs when the family of the kid, a fifteen-year-old girl, came to me. I’ve known them a long time—the parents went to school with my nephew. I agreed to look into it because what else would I say to grieving parents? I didn’t expect to find anything.” She paused and sipped her coffee. “I traced the drug—which the girl was exposed to at a party—to a dealer in Outer Sunset. I kept an eye on him and after about six weeks, I realized most of the deals withhissupplier were taking place at construction sites.”
“Which led you to Gregor,” Simon said.
She nodded. “From there, I followed the money to Polinsky. It was chance that I saw Polinsky and Lowery talking one day. Arguing, really. It isn’t unusual to see politicians and police talking, but the argument caught my attention and the one word I heard: Lomas.”
“What’s Lomas?” Juliana asked.
“A small area near Pine Lake Park that recently opened up for development. I’d already figured out that Polinsky had his people turning a blind eye to the deals, but talking with a supervisor about development?—”
“When all the deals were happening at construction sites,” Juliana said, the image crystallizing in her head.
Anna inclined her head and set her empty coffee mug down. “Exactly. So I started looking into Lowery as well. They served together. If you’re wondering about their connection.”
Juliana glanced at Simon. “We were wondering. We reached out to contacts last night. We haven’t heard back yet, but thanks for confirming,” he said.
“You army?” she asked Simon.
“Former.”
“I’d guess Green Beret?”
“Delta, but that life is behind me.”
Anna gave him a look that communicated her doubt. “I know about the Falcons,” she said. “My friend Sheri runs the Rosie Riders.”
Simon turned to her. “Female motorcycle club based out of Portland, Oregon. They…work with us sometimes,” he explained. On helping people escape abusive relationships, he left unsaid but not unheard.
“Sheri’s great. Lula is even better, but if you tell either of them what I said, you’ll regret it,” Simon said.
Anna’s lips twitched. “Lula is Sheri’s daughter,” she said to Juliana. “That girl is either going to jail or will run the country.Not that the two are mutually exclusive these days. So once you have your research, what’s your plan?”
Simon remained silent, considering the question. Juliana grimaced. “Hand it over to you and let you figure out what to do with it.”
Anna gave a low laugh. Or so Juliana thought. Whatever it was sounded like a rusty screw being pried out of tin. “You’re in this now, Ms. Morgan.”
“Morganstern,” Juliana corrected, although the second she said it, she knew Anna’s mistake hadn’t been a mistake at all. She glanced at Simon, who stared at the opposite wall in thought about something.
“I suppose we’ll hand the info over to law enforcement. Not the police, though,” she continued. “I work at the presidential library. I don’t run in the same circles as the Secret Service, but I might be able to find a contact to give the information to.”
“We have plenty of contacts with the FBI,” Simon said, bringing his attention back to the conversation. “The Falcons have worked with a few, but Charley’s cousin is former FBI. We’ll go to him, we trust him.”
“Which one?” Juliana asked. She didn’t know any of the Warwicks well enough—or really at all—to know their backgrounds.
