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“I’m sorry, bud,”I told Taavi as I stuffed his bed into a giant tote bag. “You know I wouldn’t go if it weren’t a really fucking big deal.”
Taavi gave me a look that I swear he must have learned from my mother, it made me feel so guilty. He couldn’t have, of course, since he’d nevermetmy mother, but they were clearly channeling the same energy. He didn’t whine or growl or bark at me, just… gave me this baleful fucking look that made me feel like absolute shit.
I was packing him up in the car to take him over to Beyond the Veil so Doc and Ward could watch him while I went up to Spotsylvania, where Raj and a team of feds would be waiting for us. Raj had called this morning as they were getting ready to move out.
The DNA under Bettina Chisolm’s fingernails had finally come back. In a fucking miracle, the Senate had killed HB621, much to Mays’s delight, as he’d happily explained when he called to tell me what he’d figured out about the medical dispenser.
The DNA had led us to a man named George Bale, whose name also appeared on the MFM list taken from the Oldham house. And the tiny serial number Mays had found on the inside of the dispenser had been traced to a pharmaceutical supply company whose employee records had one name, Leonora MacCarroll, who also appeared on the Oldham list.
Shit never worked out that nicely, so I was absolutely waiting for the other shoe to come crashing down like a load of fucking bricks.
Raj and a team were heading to Spotsy because Bale’s name appeared on the lease of an old warehouse under the company name Cornerstone Virtues. And Cornerstone Virtues had several other company members and investors who showed up on our little list.
My phone rang, Tony the tiger lighting up the screen.
“Don’t tell me you went in without me,” I answered.
“There’s an old grain storage facility in Manchester,” Raj answered. “Also Cornerstone. I called Villanova, he’s sending over Maza and a team. I want you there.”
I felt conflicted.
“I need someone I trust there, Hart,” he said, before I had the chance to protest.
“Okay,” I agreed. If I stayed in Richmond, I could also get back to Taavi faster—in theory, anyway. The phone beeped, informing me thatanothercall was coming in. A quick look told me it was my captain. “Villanova’s calling,” I told Raj.
“Let me know how it goes.”
“Ditto.” I hit the button to switch callers. “Hart.”
“Parikh call you?”
“Yessir, on my way.” I hefted the bag onto my shoulder.
“Move your ass, Hart.”
I hung up, grabbed Taavi, who whined a little in protest, and was out the door.
* * *
When I pulledup to the gravel warehouse parking lot, the whole raid was ready to go, the guys with heavy vests and helmets already making their way across the shitty lot toward what had been a feed and fertilizer operation at least a couple decades back.
I swung out of the car, grabbing the Kevlar vest off my back seat and strapping it on as I hurried across the lot to join Dan Maza—also vested—behind a crumbling brick building.
“Nice of you to join us,” he remarked, although I could see the corners of his eyes crinkling over the top of his navy police issue mask.
“Had to drop off the dog,” I replied. “Or come back to a house full of shit.”
Dan snorted. “Seriously?”
“You got a dog, Dan?”
“I have a fish.”
“You talk to me about dropping off the dog when you have to take your fish out for a shit, okay?”
He let out a snort. “At least you showed up for the fireworks.”
“Fuck, I hope not.” I wanted this warehouse to be empty. Well, no. Abandoned. No people. No shifters. No bodies. Evidence, sure. We could have lots of chemicals or weapons or computers full of data. That would be great.
