Page 71

“We will, but it likely means they got the product out another way,” Tyler says, shaking his head in dismay. “The back alley is pretty dark, and there are tons of bushes in the yard. The nearest camera we’ve got on the back door is of questionable resolution at best.”

“Maybe they cleared the place out before we started sitting on it,” I surmise. “And that last move this morning was Dexter’s way of scrounging for scraps, not wanting to leave us anything substantial to find. He’s petty like that.”

“Or you have an inside man,” Patterson retorts. “Or woman.”

I know where she’s going and I refuse to entertain it. I shake my head and walk back to my car. I want to update Lucas personally on what went down. He would have heard it through the main radio, but I need him to hear it from me.

A voice in the back of my head worries me. I know it’s not Tassia, but what if we do have someone on the inside? Someone we don’t know about, feeding our enemy information?

18

TASSIA

Itake advantage of my lunch break to meet with Timothy. It’s been a couple of days since the stash house attack, and my nerves aren’t any less jittery. I need my friend’s comforting presence now more than ever.

The Terrazzo is a small but lovely Italian bistro with a wooden porch overlooking Lake Cole. Everything sparkles around the still, blue waters as the noon sun rises and warms my face.

“You should’ve picked a table with an umbrella,” Timothy says when he finds me seated close to the terrace edge. “It’ll get pretty hot in a minute.”

“Nah, we’re still good. Besides, after the winter we’ve had, I’ll take all the sunlight I can get,” I nervously chuckle.

He sits across the table from me, his eyes searching my face as he opens the menu. I try to present a cool demeanor, but Timothy knows me too well. He sees the signs before I say anything about precisely how scared I am.

“Tassia, you’re one of the smartest people I have ever met. Remarkably quick, self-educated, constantly sharpening yourmind. I swear, if you ever got a chance at college, I know you’d run circles around those guys at Harvard,” Timothy says.

That makes me laugh. “You give me too much credit. I’ve done nothing noteworthy. The investigation is currently bogged down by red tape and heaps of paperwork. Uncooperative judges. A possibly corrupt DA. And now, I’ve got the DEA breathing down my neck for no good reason.”

“I’m saying this to simply remind you that you can and will get above it. I could almost smell your despair the moment I set foot on the terrace,” he replies with a wry smile.

A waiter comes over with water and a bottle of their house wine.

“None for me, thanks. Just water,” I say with a smile. The server obliges with a soft nod, filling my glass with sparkling San Pellegrino.

Timothy’s eyes narrow into tiny slits of suspicion as he measures me carefully from head to toe. I’m pretty sure my pregnancy isn’t visible just yet, especially with the oversized, dark grey dress I’m wearing.

“What’s going on with you, Tassia? You don’t seem like yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, starting with our chat over the phone the other day. You were so full of self-doubt and shame just because some ignorant DEA agent was mean to you.”

“Ah, hence your empowering opening statement,” I reply with a nod.

“It’s the truth. And Lucas knows it too. That’s why you’re still working with the sheriff’s office, why you’re still an integral part of their team,” he says. “They trust you. They believe in you. You don’t seem to believe in yourself anymore, though.”

“Again, I ask, what gives you that idea?”

Timothy leans back into his seat and casually turns the page on his menu. “I think it has everything to do with Trevor’s return. His presence in town. Have you seen him yet?”

“No. And I hope I never see him again.”

“He used to make you feel small and useless. Like you were never worth much. Right?”

“That about sums it up.”

He nods slowly. “I recognized the self-doubt, like I told you. I could hear it in your voice, in the ‘what if’ scenarios you presented. You called it a venting session with your good friend Tim, but I saw it for what it truly is. A cry for help.” He smiles knowingly. “You need to be reminded of how strong and capable you really are. Just because Trevor Callaghan is on the loose and sniffing around doesn’t cancel any of your progress, and it certainly doesn’t change anything for you as a free and independent woman.”

“You should’ve become a therapist,” I giggle. “Pretty sure it pays better than social work.”