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Skipper paled. “I don’t know anything about that. I only help with the drugs.”

Will stiffened. “But you know something.”

“No. Nope. I don’t know anything about that stuff. I swear.”

“Five minutes ago you knew nothing about the drugs.”

“Please. I’ve told you everything.”

“I want to know about the people that are being shipped in containers like these.”

“I—No. I don’t know.”

“I could shoot you in the knee if it would help jog your memory.”

Skipper’s body sagged. “Please don’t do that. Please.” He groaned. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“No one will know it was you. Just tell me what you know.”

Skipper shook his head, and Will dropped onto a knee, grabbing him by the shirt. He pressed the gun to his head. “Tell me!”

“No,” Skipper sobbed. “Please. If I say anything, they’ll know.”

“No, they won’t.”

“They will. They know everything. And you know what they’ll do to me? Those guys are nuts. This drug stuff is a walk in the park.”

“You’d rather go to prison?”

“At least I’ll be alive in prison. If I tell you about that stuff, I’m as good as dead. I don’t want to die.”

Police sirens broke the still night air, and Skipper let out a moan of relief.

“I’m sorry, man. I’ll take my chances in jail. And if I were you, I’d leave it alone.”

“I can’t.”

Will’s phone rang as the first police car pulled through the gate. It was his boss.

“Sir?”

“Where are you?”

“Nowhere important, why?”

“It’s about Agent Rochedale. There’s been an incident.”

“Maddy?”

“Yeah.”

“Is she hurt? I called her. I couldn’t get through.”

“She’s alive, but she’s in the hospital. It’s bad.”

Will’s stomach squeezed in guilt. She’d needed him, and he hadn’t been there for her. “What happened?”

“I’ll debrief you when you get here.”

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