Shattered Edge(72)
“I’m sorry honey. I should think before I talk sometimes.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered brokenly. I knew she hadn’t meant anything by it. I had a hole inside of me that would always be there, never shrinking but expanding ever so slightly every day. There wasn’t anything in this world that would make it go away. Well, there was, but that was like reaching for a star and then finding it was only an illusion after all. I prayed that one day, that hole would swallow me up and put me out of my misery.
********
Most of the drug smuggling was taking place on the Mexican border states. That didn’t make sense for the East Coast. I knew there was something else going on, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. How was the stuff getting here? Someone had to be helping it.
I started looking at all the big importers. I called Preston.
“Hey, I know what you’re probably gonna say, but your guys have checked all the importers, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the drugs are getting to the East Coast somehow. But how is the question. I know the border thing. But there has to be an alternate route. So, have you all checked everything that comes in from Mexico? You know, like produce. We get an ass load of our produce from there.”
“Right. I’m pretty sure it’s been checked.”
“Can we check it again? Can I check it? There has to be something to all this.”
“Let me see what I can do.”
I kept working this angle and for some reason something kept nagging me. It was probably nothing, but it was worth a try.
“One other question. Imported produce from Mexico is usually shipped by truck, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“How is it inspected when it arrives?”
“Supposedly, like looking for a needle in a haystack. Dogs, you name it, they’re used. But you never know. I’ve learned not to believe in any system as perfect. There are flaws everywhere.”
“Okay. One last question. Is there a main distributing company that handles this stuff before it gets parceled out?”
“I’ll have someone check on that. But I’d have to say yeah. Then it goes into the grocery store warehouses.”
“All right. Let me know what you find.”
Preston and I went back and forth on this a couple of times a week. He’d only call when he could because he had to use disposable phones. Since my “death,” he’d been accepted into the loop, but not close enough to get the meaty information. I had to settle for what I could get, when I could get it.
Two weeks later, the phone rang and it was Preston.
“Pack a bag, enough for a week.”
“Why?”
“You’re going to El Paso. To EPIC.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. The director likes your thought processes and he wants to look into this a little further. Caroline, it may pan out to be nothing. Just sayin’, so you don’t get your hopes too high. And don’t forget, that other person is dead and gone.”
“Gotcha.”
“A car will be picking you up this afternoon around three. Government issue. Driver’s name is Dan. Ask for ID. Always Caroline. Never forget that piece of info. When you get his ID, call the number on it to verify. Okay?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll see you there.”
“You’re going?”
“Yeah. Or at least I’m trying.”
“Be safe.”
“Always. You too.”
********
Mom wasn’t happy at all. I called her at work to let her know I’d be gone for a few days.
Tomorrow I was supposed to have become Mrs. Justin Middleton. I dared not let myself even think of it for one tiny second, or I would lose myself to my grief. Instead of getting married, I would be in El Paso, trying to uncover links to a drug cartel. At three, there was a knock on my door and Dan presented his ID. I looked at the phone number and shut the door. I quickly called in to verify he was the real deal. When I was in the back seat and we were on the way, he said, “You’re a pretty intense girl, aren’t you?”
I shrugged and said, “Guess so.” You have no idea.
“I never had anyone question my ID before.”
“You never picked me up before Dan.”
He nodded and said, “No, I haven’t. So where you headed today?”
“Where ever this car is taking me, Dan.”
He laughed. “Man, they’ve trained you well. You’re a cryptic one.”
“Uh huh. Do you always talk this much Dan?”
“Yeah, I think so. At least that’s what everyone says.”
“I see. So what do you do at the DEA?”
“Well, I guess I’m basically a gopher.”