Mason, Aiden, and Drake headed to the building and got in place. Then Drake would call the day manager as coordinated. She would then dial Huey’s room and claim there was a fire. Darius had actually found the necessary ingredients for a smoke bomb in the gardening shed and kitchen of the Chalet. Not that they wanted actual pops, they just wanted the smoke to appear, so Darius modified the ingredients.
At the same time the call was being made, Aiden would place three small lengths of hose under the door to pour smoke into the room. Outside the room, three larger devices had smoke pluming so that the men leaving the room would be unable to see anything.
Drake heard the phone ring.
“Fire!” someone yelled from inside the room.
“Look, smoke.”
“We have to leave.”
The door opened. Of course, Huey was the first man out the door.
The man behind him pushed, and Huey went flying into the railing. Drake caught him before he went over. The third man came out more cautiously, and Aiden yanked him into a headlock.
“Drake?”
The man that had pushed Huey was fumbling for a gun. Mason pulled it out of his hands. Huey had come out unarmed. Fool. The third man was busy trying to pull Aiden’s arm from around his neck.
It was interesting. The cautious man was in a suit. He didn’t look like somebody who would be either a bodyguard or an ex-con. No, he looked like someone who was buying and selling. The DEA would love this guy.
“Come on in, and set a while,” Drake said in an exaggerated accent. He dragged his uncle back into the motel room, while Aiden and Mason each grabbed a man. Drake threw his uncle across the bed. Yeah, he had the Avery height and broad shoulders, but he was a walking poster board for the necessity of work-outs and healthy eating. The man looked like he’d eaten another human being since he’d last seen him.
“Drake, it’s not me. It’s your dad. I haven’t done anything. Your dad is the one who tried to have you killed. You know I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for you.”
Drake thought he might have thrown up a bit in his mouth. “Are you for real? You’re the one who beat Harmon and I with the buckle side of your belt when we were five because we were too loud in your house. You were the one who gave me a concussion when I was seven when I touched your new car. You were the one who let your pitbull off the leash when the girls came over.”
Huey whimpered.
“But you’re right about one thing. You were a hell of a lot nicer than my old man.”
“Now, you’re going to tell me about what the hell is going on in Jasper Creek.”
“I don’t know nothing.”
Drake pulled out his knife. Huey shuddered, it was like watching Jell-O. “What? What are you going to do with that?”
“Whatever the hell I want.”
“You can’t. You’re the law.”
“What is with you and Harmon? I’m not the law. I’m in the Navy. I’m on leave. And I’m just having a friendly talk with my family. I always use a knife when I talk to family.” He put a knee on the bed and got up real close with the knife.
“But you’re fancy Navy. You’re a SEAL,” he whined. The man in the suit coughed.
“That means I know how to cut you up all fancy like. So, tell me what’s going on in Jasper Creek. How many meth labs? Where’s the heroin coming from?” He let the knife tip dig into Huey’s triple chin, a thin trickle of blood dripped onto his shirt.
“Three, there’s three labs. One’s really big, it’s out near Harmon’s place.”
“Where are the other two?”
“One’s out near the Indian Casino. He knows where it is.” He pointed wildly at the man who pushed him. “His brother-in-law is the cook.”
“You son-of-a-bitch! I’ll kill you!” The man tried to get up out of the little motel chair. Mason shoved him back down.
“Sit down, and shut up,” Mason growled.
“That’s two, where’s the third?” Drake demanded. God, he wanted to poke harder with the knife. It was the incident with the pitbull. He still remembered having to jump the dog so it wouldn’t bite Maddie. He had a scar on his arm because of that dog.
“Harmon knows where the third one is. Lois, his girlfriend’s sister’s boyfriend’s cousin runs it.”
Drake had to shake his head, to try to get that sentence straight in his mind. It was no use. He’d have to just go question Lois. He sure as hell wasn’t going to sic the DEA on her.
“The heroin, tell me about the heroin.”
The suit coughed again. All of the SEALs looked at him.
“I think you might have something to tell us,” Aiden said jovially.