Page 4 of More Than a Hero (Baytown Heroes #12)

Pete sat at his desk, facing his partner across the cluttered space of reports and half-empty coffee cups.

The Eastern Shore Drug Task Force had its own section within the North Heron County Sheriff's Office.

They were close to the large area where the local detectives had their desks.

The setup allowed easy collaboration, especially since cases often bled into one another.

Right now, Pete was knee-deep in paperwork, his focus drifting as he slogged through the tedious report on the discovery of drugs taken from a routine traffic stop. The endless documentation was a necessary evil, but today, his mind refused to stay on task.

Across from him, Jeremy’s phone buzzed, and his partner grinned before answering. “Hey, Mom. Yeah, I got the birthday cake. I can't believe you ordered it from Bess's bakery. You know she’s the best in the area. She dropped it off at the station yesterday, and we destroyed it.”

Pete half listened as Jeremy continued chatting, his face relaxed, his voice filled with easy warmth as he talked to both his parents.

He could practically hear his partner’s mom fussing over him, reminding him to eat, asking about work, probably slipping in a not-so-subtle hint about wanting to visit to meet Jeremy’s new girlfriend, Cora, the local medical examiner.

Pete was happy for his friend. But he was also honest enough to admit to himself that there was a dull ache beneath his ribs, a flicker of envy curling through him like smoke.

Birthdays hadn’t been a thing in the Bolton household.

No cakes. No presents. No halfhearted attempts at singing Happy Birthday.

Just another day on the calendar, ignored or forgotten.

Except for him and Sally. They had celebrated each other, scraping together what they could, even if it was just a piece of candy they’d saved or a promise of a wish on a shooting star.

Until he was fourteen—then, everything had changed.

“You ready for lunch?”

Pete blinked, surprised to see Jeremy was off his call and looking at him.

“Sorry. Mind was miles away, I guess.”

Jeremy laughed. “I’d say you were. Let’s hit up Stuart’s.” Jeremy stood, stretching his arms behind his head. “I’m dying for a burger and fries.”

“I was there last night. They had a sign up for cherry and apple fried pies,” Pete said, pushing back his chair. “I’ve been craving one ever since.”

“What’d you go in for?”

Pete chuckled. “Queenie’s pills.”

Jeremy let out a booming laugh. “Damn, I forgot about your new pet.”

“She’s just the latest one.” Pete shrugged as they made their way to their DTF vehicle. “Her owners passed away, and she ended up at the shelter. Older, sick—practically unadoptable.”

Jeremy gave him a sidelong glance, all traces of humor gone. “You know, man, I really admire that about you. Most people wouldn’t take that on.”

Pete shrugged again, not needing to explain. Jeremy already knew. A few years back, over beers and a crackling fire at Pete’s place, he’d opened up about his past—at least as much as he ever did. His partner understood him probably better than anyone.

The drive to Stuart’s was quick, and soon, they were perched on the swivel stools at the diner’s counter.

“I haven’t seen you two in a while,” Charlene called out from behind the grill. “Burgers and fries?”

“You know it, darlin’,” Jeremy replied with a grin. “And Pete here tells me you’ve got fried pies.”

Charlene chuckled, flipping a burger before turning to them. “Marcy’s been experimenting with those, and we can’t keep ’em stocked. Apple and cherry. Pick your favorite, and it’s on the house.”

“Apple,” Jeremy said without hesitation.

“Cherry for me,” Pete added.

He twisted in his seat, absently scanning the street outside. His gaze landed on the pharmacy in the back, and just like that, Angie was in his head again. Bright and colorful, her laughter still somehow echoed in his mind.

And then, like he had conjured her out of thin air, there she was. His pulse kicked up as he spotted her walking out of the pharmacy, pushing a man in a wheelchair toward a waiting van. Without thinking, Pete shot to his feet, moving toward her.

She jumped slightly at his sudden approach, but the moment her gaze met his, a slow, radiant smile spread across her face.

“Pete! Twice in two days?” Her voice was light, teasing. “How lucky can I get?”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, watching as she expertly maneuvered the van’s wheelchair lift. She had things under control, but he still stepped in, offering his assistance. He noticed the faint hitch in her step, the way she favored one leg.

Still, she moved with practiced efficiency, ensuring her patient was secure before returning to him. “Thanks,” she said, her eyes warm.

He wanted to linger and find an excuse to keep talking to her. But she sighed, glancing down at her phone.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to get Mr. Jackson home. His regular driver couldn’t come, and he was completely out of his meds.”

Pete nodded toward the pharmacy. “You sure you don’t need a hand? Jeremy can grab my lunch, and I can follow. Make sure you’re good.”

She reached out, placing her hand on his arm. His breath stilled, his skin burning where she touched him. “That’s really sweet, Pete, but I just got a text. His son is home now. He has a ramp, so we’ll be fine.”

She squeezed his arm, lingering just long enough to make his heart thump, then stepped back, giving a little wave before climbing into the driver’s seat.

He stood on the sidewalk, watching her drive away, before finally turning back inside. By the time he slid onto his stool, his plate was in front of him, and Jeremy was giving him the look.

“What?” Pete muttered.

Jeremy crossed his arms. “Please, for all that is holy, tell me you asked her out.”

Pete groaned. “It wasn’t the right time.”

Jeremy huffed. “Man, you are clueless.”

“You just started dating Cora,” Pete shot back. “Don’t act like you’ve got all the moves.”

Jeremy smirked. “I have enough to know Angie’s into you. And I know you’re into her. So what’s the damn holdup?”

Pete grumbled something unintelligible before taking a massive bite of his burger.

Jeremy just shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

They let the conversation drop, focusing on their food, but Pete knew his partner wasn’t wrong. The real question was, what was he going to do about it?

They’d barely finished when they got a call. Heading out, they drove about twenty minutes north on the main highway, then turned off and traveled several more miles out into dense woods at the back of an old dirt lane.

“Who owns this?” Jeremy wondered aloud.

“I don’t know. The farm hasn’t been worked in years.

Probably, the farmer died off, and there are no relatives to give it to, or they are letting it go to seed,” Pete said, looking down at their GPS.

They soon came upon many county vehicles, including state police.

The firemen were in hazmat suits and moving carefully in the vicinity of an old trailer.

Climbing down, they approached Elizabeth Perez and John Sullivan, two detectives for the county. “What do you have?” Jeremy asked.

“Two men were crabbing in the marsh just behind here. They unwittingly discovered an old meth lab.”

“At first, the men thought the bad smell just came from the boggy mud. They had moved as close to the shore as possible and were digging for clams as well as having their crab pots away from the shore. They didn't even notice there was a trailer here right away."

"They must be new to the area," Pete said, glad he wore a mask. "The sulfur smell we sometimes get from the water is nothing like the ammonia coming from that rat trap."

Jeremy had walked over to speak to the firemen and the state police hazmat team. Pete looked up as he approached. "What did they say?"

"It doesn't look like anybody has been out here for ages," Jeremy reported.

"I wonder if it's safe enough for us to check for prints?"

John spoke up. "I already asked about that. The chief will let me and two of our deputies inside to see if we can snag any fingerprints or anything else that would help discern who might have been out here."

Pete nodded. "Let us know what you need."

Elizabeth said, "I hate to say it, but you know more about this than I do.”

“What were they using?" Pete asked.

“There are still plastic cat litter containers inside and scattered behind the trailer. It's an off-brand, so I'm unsure who carries it around here."

Jeremy exhaled, shaking his head. “Cat litter means they were likely using the ammonia method. We’ll want to check for bottles with tubing, camping fuel, cold packs, and lithium batteries—common household stuff but deadly when put together.”

John glanced at the hazmat team, who were still scanning the site.

“Yeah, and if they were using the red phosphorus method, we need to see if there’s any iodine or matchbooks around.

If they cooked inside, the walls are probably coated in residue.

We’ll swab and test for methamphetamine, but I bet hazmat’s already getting high readings from their sensors. ”

Elizabeth frowned. “Best case, we’re dealing with a dump site. Worst case, this was an active lab, and they left in a hurry.”

Pete looked toward the rotting trailer, its windows coated in a sickly yellow film. “You’ll need to find out where they got their supplies. Hardware stores, farm supply places—hell, even gas stations sell some of this stuff. If someone bought in bulk, we might get a lead.”

Jeremy nodded. “I’ll reach out to the local stores, see if anyone’s bought a shit ton of pseudoephedrine or drain cleaner lately.”

John looked toward the evidence team, who had just finished setting up a collection station near the entrance.

“We should also check the ground for burn pits. They probably ditched the used lithium strips somewhere close. And if they were shaking bottles instead of cooking over heat, they could have dumped them in the water.”

Jeremy cursed under his breath. “Take care and warn the others. Have some deputies check the marsh for discarded bottles, but treat them carefully. They might explode if you handle ’em wrong.”

“Fuck,” John said grimly.

One of the deputies approached, holding up a clear evidence bag. Inside was a scorched, rusted canister. “Found this near the back. Could be an old anhydrous tank.”

Jeremy took a step back. “Shit. That means they were pulling ammonia from fertilizer. We need to see if any local farms had thefts.”

Pete turned to Elizabeth. “See if you can cross-check recent reports. Anhydrous ammonia is too dangerous for some backwoods cook to be hauling in bulk. If someone stole it, it’s gotta be on record.”

Elizabeth nodded, already pulling out her phone.

Having gathered all they could at the site, Pete and Jeremy returned to the station. Even with Elizabeth and John taking charge, Pete and Jeremy would stay active in the case, especially if it seemed as though the meth cookers had just moved to a new location.