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“Sonofabitch. Casper knew. Had proof they greased the rungs.” Dane’s heart pounded as adrenaline flooded his veins. He fisted his hands. It was a damn good thing Casper was dead. After seeing this, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have killed the man himself.
Koa squeezed his shoulder.
Dane closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath and then eased it out.
“I’m sorry, Dane. I didn’t think.” Mac started to reach for the pictures, but he stopped her with a shake of his head.
“I asked to see them at the time. Now I know why he wouldn’t show them to me. I’m okay. I’m glad I’m seeing them. Proof that I wasn’t making it up. This shit wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t an accident.”
“No,” she agreed, “it wasn’t.”
The next group of pictures were shots of the deck from different angles. He let his gaze roam over them, but nothing stood out to him, but then he took another steadying breath and made himself focus. He went back over each picture again. “Holy shit,” he said and leaned over one of the pictures.
“What?” Cass said.
He pointed. The picture showed containers on the top of the cargo ship. One of the doors was open, and inside, a set of hands was loading a black square package, with a skull and crossbones surrounded by the sun, into a backpack.
“Sonofabitch,” Koa said. “They did it right there, and he took pictures.”
“Casper wasn’t stupid. He knew he had them. Knew he had proof. If he was a gambler like Sinclair said”—she blew out a breath and pointed to the image—“this was his meal ticket.”
“So, who do you think killed him? Someone from Owens’s team?” Cass asked.
“No. I think whoever runs the whole operation saw him as a threat and took him out. Casper probably got paid a bit here and there. Not enough to make a serious dent in the profit but enough to keep him happy. They needed him to make sure no one was on to them. I’m coming around to the idea that Casper killed Owens, too. It makes sense. Use one asset to kill the other. This stinks of someone cleaning house.”
Dane stared at the picture, and another piece of the puzzle snapped into place. “Cain, how come we haven’t practiced on the ship before the other day?”
Cain ground his teeth. “I’ve been asking since I got here, but the other day was the first time they said yes.”
“Who? Who said yes?”
“The people in Cross’s office.”
“Why would Cross have anything to do with it?” Dane asked.
Cain shrugged. “Because he is the one who set up the relationship. Or, at least, it goes through his office. Why all the questions?”
Dane paused before answering, and did a fast gut check, but got the same result. He knew he was right. “Because that’s how they get the drugs, and now weapons, here,” Dane said. He was sure of it. “When I was on Owens’s team we used the cargo ship to train all the time. At least once a month. We’d go out and train and while no one was looking, they take the opportunity to move the drugs and weapons into their bags to take it off the ship. No one is the wiser. Even me. Anything Owens and his people bring into port is just their gear on their boat. They can walk it right out to their cars or his boat or whatever, and no one thinks twice. It’s fucking brilliant.”
Koa grunted. “Shit.”
“Yeah. So Sinclair was right, but he thought it was just random searches. Training makes a much better cover.” Cain narrowed his eyes. “They let us use it this time because the ship was held up an extra day. A crane broke down in the port, and they had to wait. Owens and his people had it first. That’s why he had the drugs and the motherboards. He picked them up that day.”
“Exactly,” Dane continued. “It also means the ships’ captains are in on it too. They aren’t going to let just anyone open a container. Even if we are the Coast Guard, there’s no way they wouldn’t be suspicious after a time or two.”
Mac said, “Should we call Rut… Sinclair and tell him what we know?” She tapped her fist to her forehead, as if trying to beat Rutledge’s real name into her memory banks.
Dane shook his head. “Not yet. We only have this picture, and you can’t tell who it is. I think we go talk to one of them.”
“Yeah, but which one?” she asked.
“Ben Hestman,” Jace said over the earbud. “I cracked the code last night. You were right, Dane. The first column was dates. The second was the amount of drugs and the third was money. The dashes had initials after them. Ben Hestman had the fewest entries. He had some at the very beginning, and then they stopped altogether. I think he probably wanted out.”
“Wait, what code?” Mac demanded.
Dane had forgotten that they hadn’t shared finding the little black book with Mac. “We found a book in Owens’ safe. It was written in code. We’ve been trying to crack it.”
“What do you think? Should we go with Ben Hestman?” asked Cain.
