Page 118 of Axe-ing for Trouble
“At this time, there is no plan to seek his arrest,” she said, her voice monotone and official.
“What the fuck?” I snapped.
Jude squeezed my good shoulder, but I pulled it away.
“Ms. Barrett, Sergeant Williams here.” He cleared his throat. “Please understand there are nuances to this investigation.”
Parker piped up. “We expect that several of the perpetrators, including those who broke into your home, will be in custody by tomorrow.”
“We picked up someone who goes by the name Razor yesterday. He was driving while intoxicated in Heartsborough and provided some very helpful information to supplement your work,” Sergeant Williams said.
I bit back a sardonic laugh. That wasn’t surprising. Razor was not known for his discretion or his loyalty. But even he wasn’t close enough to the top to be all that useful.
“This is Agent Bryce Portnoy with the FBI, assistant director of the Portland field office,” a third voice said. “I want you to know that law enforcement has this well in hand. Great civilian work, of course. But…”
I froze as he continued to speak. That voice. Nasal and a bit high-pitched for a man. I’d never met him, but my hands shook and bile rose in my throat. It was familiar and not particularly comforting.
With a concerned frown, Jude squeezed my hand.
“You okay?” he whispered.
I nodded as I scanned the small cabin, looking for paper. Eventually, I settled for a piece of paper towel and a pencil that was perched on the windowsill. As they spoke, I furiously scribbled notes.
“Can you repeat that?” I asked sweetly, trying to get every detail down.
He obliged, though his tone remained borderline condescending.
“What are you doing about the shipment?” I asked. “Friday the thirteenth is tomorrow.”
“We have no intel to confirm that a shipment of anything is coming,” Portnoy continued.
Dread washed over me. “There was an exchange planned,” I explained. “Drugs, guns, cash. They spoke in code, but I heard it with my own ears.”
“Sources on the inside indicate they may have been spooked.”
My stomach churned. No way. They’d been planning this for months. The Jason talk, the random mentions of the date, and discussions regarding meetings and shipments. This was too big. At the poker game, the number fifty million had been thrown around.
And his voice. It had set off an alarm bell in my brain. I couldn’t parse out why. But I had the laptop and my phone. If I could keep this guy talking, maybe I’d figure it out.
Silently, I pointed at Jude’s blue backpack, and he brought it over to me.
“How many warrants, Agent Portnoy?” I asked as I tapped on the icon for the voice recording app.
“Seven,” Parker replied, her tone once again subdued.
Fuck, I needed him to speak.
“And more coming,” Portnoy added. “At the bureau, we build our cases methodically.”
That was bullshit. Only seven? “The conspiracy chart I provided had thirty-one players on it, going from top to bottom.”
“You can’t expect us to go out and arrest thirty-one people based solely on your hunches.” His tone was dismissive.
While I gritted my teeth to hold back a retort, Jude clenched his fists.
I shook my head, warning him to let it go, then tapped the red button on my screen so I could record the sound of the FBI agent’s voice.
“I provided evidence,” I clarified. “And I understand the process and the fourth amendment considerations. But if only seven people are out, that leaves the other twenty-six to continue on with tomorrow’s plan.”
