Three weeks earlier
Cameron sat back and released a deep sigh. The day was finally done. She’d been poked, prodded, bled, X-rayed, stressed, and peered at through strange instruments. No part of her body had escaped. It had been one of the longest days she could remember in years. Even her mind had been invaded with question after question.
“Well, sweetie, feeling better now that you’ve eaten? Do you want any more of anything?”
Cam looked across the table at her best friend, her mentor, her psychiatrist and, most of all, her “control.” Maggie was the woman who supervised her actions as a deep-undercover federal agent. More important at times, Maggie was also the person that everyone thought was Cam’s lover. Everyone, that is, except those few who knew the real truth. They had first met when Maggie had been assigned to be liaison when Cam went undercover as a convicted felon into a women’s prison.
Cam was always amazed at how unruffled Maggie looked. Never was any of the short dark hair, sprinkled with gray, out of place. There was never a wrinkle in the sleek, colorful, natural fiber clothes or even a scuff on either of the expensive leather pumps. There was never a smudge in her makeup. But then, Dr. Margaret Thomason was supposed to look that way. She just was.
Dr. Maggie had impeccable taste. And, she had a very successful private practice so the cost of the items she wanted didn’t seem to matter. The fact that Dr. Maggie was a respected psychiatrist and was also employed by the Federal Justice Department in the capacity of overseeing, evaluating and supervising undercover agents of the CIA and the DEA did nothing to tarnish her charisma.
“I’m exhausted, Maggie,” Cam answered, running her fingers through her short dark hair. “Thank you for this marvelous dinner. You definitely know how to treat a woman. Are you sure you’re not a lesbian?”
“If I were, you’d be the first to know, darling.” Maggie smiled at her. She placed glasses in front of each of them: Cam’s scotch and spring water; and hers, vodka and tonic. Then she sank down into the chair across the table from Cam. “The doctor says you’re fit again for another year. How do you feel about that?”
“Is that a personal question or the beginning of a professional evaluation?” Cam retorted.
“Ah! Starting to answer questions with questions again.” Maggie chuckled. “Yes, you’re ready to go back to work.”
“I’ve been ready for months. I don’t know what the problem was,” Cam groused.
“We just wanted to be sure that there are no lasting effects from your last injuries. I still worry about you, you know.”
Cam sat forward as she sipped her drink. She smiled at Maggie. “Is that a concern for the person or for the agent?” She chuckled.
“You stop that, young lady! I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking questions here!” Maggie shook her head as she sat back.
“Well, I’m sure there’ll be other injuries in the future.” Cam sighed.
Maggie watched her with a look that straddled the line between concern and despair. “Yes, and telling you to be more careful seems to be an exercise in futility. You’ve been very lucky so far.”
She looked back up at Maggie. “I don’t go out looking to get hurt. It’s just part of the job.”
“Yes, sweetie, I know. That’s what makes me worry even more.”
Cam smiled across the table at her. “But we haven’t had the chance to talk in so long,” Cam complained. “Don’t I get a chance to find out how you are?” Cam picked up her drink and walked to the large picture window overlooking the bay. It would be dark soon and the lights across the water were slowly coming on. That window was one of Cam’s favorite views of Chesapeake Bay. It faced west, across one of the fingers of the bay and caught all of the afternoon sun. She felt ultimately at peace here. She never felt that at any other place she knew. The early evening sunset glistened off the tides, creating sheen off the placid water that looked like folds of silk. It had a visceral effect that soothed her no matter how stressed she’d been before coming here.
Cam turned back to Maggie. “When is Dickie going to be here?” she asked ignoring Maggie’s silence
Maggie looked up at the big wall clock.
“In about an hour,” she decided. “We still have time to talk, unless you want to rest until he gets here. You can lie down upstairs if you want.”
Cam smiled. Maggie was always making things easy for her.
“No. I’m too wired to sleep. I’ve been resting too long this time.” The restless feeling had been creeping up on her for the last two or three weeks.
“Even after all your travails today?”
“Even after all my travails.” Cam glanced once more out the window, then turned her attention to Maggie.
Maggie sank into her usual spot at the end of the couch, next to the oak end table. She turned on the lamp and arranged the stoneware coasters so that she and Cam could rest their glasses. She plumped up the throw pillows and patted the spot next to her.
“Come sit down. We haven’t talked in a long time. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
When Cam first became an undercover agent for the DEA, Maggie had delved and prodded, trying to find all of Cam’s trigger points so that Cam could be aware of where, psychologically, she was most vulnerable. This was in lieu of the usual training that The Company gave its agents. Cam’s undercover persona was too valuable to allow any “regular” agent to know about. As time slid by, they’d become close friends as well as colleagues. In many ways that made Maggie’s job harder. She watched as Cam sank down onto the couch beside her.
“First, tell me how you are,” Maggie began. “How’s your family? I know you called Lori a lot. I just got the phone bills.”
Cam could tell by the tone in Maggie’s voice that the warm smile forgave what must have been a lengthy list of calls on the bill. She’d spent hours talking to her little sister while she was staying at the beach house between assignments.
“She wanted me to come home.” Cam sighed, remembering her younger sister’s pleading. “Since Grandma Chris’s death Lori’s been at a loss. She was as close to Grandma Chris as I am to Gramma Anne. And I think maybe Aunt Carrie has been relying on her a lot, too.”
“Do you want to go up to Boston before you start this assignment?”
“I’d like it, Maggie. I…I just haven’t been ready to deal with all that.”
Maggie let Cam remain silent for a few minutes. She knew that Cam was still having a hard time handling the loss of another member of her close family. When Grandma Chris died last month that left just Gramma Anne, Aunt Carrie and Lori, although Lori’s husband and her two sons rounded out the clan. Cam’s parents had been killed in a car accident shortly after her brother Ben had died of a drug overdose. Therefore, it had taken quite a lot of strength for her to follow her dream and give up her career in the police department and take the job as an undercover special agent. It had been her life mission since her brother’s death to get as many drugs off the streets as she could.
“You miss her, don’t you?” Maggie said gently. She’d watched all the thoughts go through Cam’s mind.
Cam nodded. “Yes,” was all she said.
“And now,” Maggie asked, “how’s Lori doing?”
“Lori’s fine. Lori’s always fine. She has David and the boys to keep her busy. Gramma Anne is always there and Aunt Carrie’s just a few minutes away. She doesn’t say much to me about it but I know she’s still confused by my situation. I tried to explain it as best I could without telling her everything but I’m not sure she really understood that I’d do something so radical. It’s beyond her comprehension that anyone would give up so much of her life for a job.” Cam chuckled. “We’re so much alike in so many ways but so terribly different in how we prioritize our lives.”
Cam’s two grandmothers had refused to believe that their elder granddaughter was a drug dealer and had simply assumed that it must have been an undercover job she was working. Cam had not been able to confirm their assumptions and so it went unspoken until Christine’s death. But the tension had remained.
Finally, taking a deep breath and a long drink of her scotch, Cam sat back.
“Maybe I should call Lori before Dickie gets here,” she decided. “It’ll only take a couple minutes.”
“Take as long as you need, sweetie,” Maggie agreed. “I’ll just go put on another pot of coffee. This may go long into the night.”
Maggie got up to refill the coffee maker as Cam reached for the phone.
* * * *
Lori seemed ecstatic that Cam would come up to Massachusetts for the weekend. She immediately began making plans for things they’d do together and talking about what changes were taking place in their hometown of Lexington, Massachusetts, that she wanted to show Cam.
“And if it’s a nice day, we can take the boys out to Walden Pond for a picnic!” she enthused.
“Gosh! I haven’t been out there in years! I’d love that.” Cam thought back to all the pleasant times she, Lori and Mom had had out there. It had been a “girls’ picnic” spot when she was a youngster: and a time for Dad and Benny to go to a ball game or some other vehicle for their male bonding.
“Good, then that’s settled. David usually has a lot of work to do on a Saturday so we’ll have that time to sit, watch the boys, and talk.” Lori already had the weekend scheduled, it seemed.
“What’s David involved with these days?” Cam asked. Her brother-in-law was a rising attorney at a major Boston law firm but he always had some little project up his sleeve. He was one of the few people Cam knew who never seemed to tire. He’d finished his undergraduate work at Boston College in three years.
“Oh!” Cam’s question seemed to light a fire in Lori. “Remember George Nelson? Benny’s friend?”
How could she forget the guy who had called her for her help when her brother was overdosing on cocaine and barbiturates?
“Of course I remember him. How’s he doing?”
“His youngest son just got diagnosed with leukemia. David set up a fund to raise money for treatment,” Lori told her. She was very proud of her husband for doing this.
“Doesn’t insurance pay for that?”
“George doesn’t have insurance. He’s trying to build his own construction business and just never got to the point that he could insure the entire family. This leukemia will wipe him out. He and his wife had just bought an old house, too. They haven’t even completed the renovations.”
“How many kids do they have?” Cam asked.
“Three. The first was a boy, then a girl, then little Tommy. George and his wife are devastated by this.” Cam heard Lori sigh deeply.
“How much do they need for Tommy’s treatment?” Cam asked.
“Several hundred thousand, I think.” Lori sighed.
“That’s a lot of money, but I’m sure something will turn up.” Cam’s mind was already churning.
Cam and her sister talked for another fifteen minutes before they said good night. Cam left Lori with the promise that she’d be there at the end of the week.
As Cam laid the receiver back in its cradle, there were car lights coming up the short driveway.
“Just in time.” Maggie smiled as she went to open the door.
Cam stood to greet the short, balding man who entered.
“Hi, boss.” She smiled.
“Andrews.” He nodded, acknowledging her presence. His communication was curt as usual. “I was glad to hear that you passed all the exams today.”
“Me, too,” was Cam’s response. “I hate these yearly things. I think I’d know if I was sick.”
“Just be happy you don’t have to pay for them,” Deems countered.
“All right,” Maggie intervened, “Before we get started, Richard, have you eaten?”
Maggie’s attention, the attention of a regular woman, seemed to relax Deems. He ran his hand over his balding head to straighten what little bit of gray hair that still remained there.
“Yes, thank you. I had something delivered to my office.” Deems smiled as he sat in the comfortable wing-backed chair near the window.
“Then can I offer you coffee? Or a drink? I believe you’re a bourbon drinker. Did I remember correctly?”
“Yes, I am a bourbon drinker,” he said, giving Maggie a small smile, the first time Cam had ever seen him do that. “But I think coffee might be more appropriate tonight, if it’s not too much trouble. We have a lot of work to do.”
“Well, just relax, Richard, and I’ll get coffee for everyone.” Maggie agreed as she went out into the kitchen.
Deems loosened his tie and turned his attention back to Cam, his smile disappearing. He took the files that Maggie had left sitting on the coffee table and, after checking to make sure the tabs on the top read Chameleon, Cam’s undercover name, opened them.
“Has Dr. Thomason told you about this assignment?” he asked Cam as she adjusted the pillows behind her.
“Not a lot,” Cam answered, sinking back onto the couch.
“I thought you wanted to have that honor.” Maggie smiled as she set a tray with a carafe of coffee and mugs on the coffee table. A sugar bowl and spoons had already been set there. None of them used creamer.
Deems chuckled at Maggie’s terminology, or at least Cam thought it was his version of a chuckle. With Deems, Cam never knew if he was making a comment or just clearing his sinus passages.
“Honor.” He shook his head. He never thought he’d be taking this much time and energy to brief an undercover agent. But this one was special, and effective, even if she was homosexual. Why did that fact always creep back into his mind? Maybe in a few more years…
“I think you might remember something about this designer drug that’s out. At first, we thought that it was cocaine laced with strychnine, but our scientists discovered recently that it’s a new drug entirely. It’s very close to cocaine and strychnine but it’s all man-made. Someone has done a lot of chemistry work with this. We don’t even have a name for it yet. It’s not coke. For lack of a better name, we’ve been calling it “croak” because the only thing we know is that it’s killed nine kids and one of our best agents. And we think it’s being made right here in Baltimore.”
“Nine? And it’s not coke?” Cam was surprised. She remembered her last case on the Baltimore police force and how the surviving teens hadn’t wanted to talk about anything.
Deems shook his head. “No. Nor crank or crack. It looks like cocaine and it’s ingested the same ways coke is, but the molecular structure is different and the effects are very radical. We got a sample of it from the last agent on this case, so we know what it looks like.”
“And no one knows where the kids are getting it? That’s hard to believe.” Maggie said as she drew a chair up so she could observe both Cam and Deems.
Again Deems shook his head. “From what we’ve been able to glean, the kids thought they were buying cocaine. The sources are all different and it doesn’t show up all the time. We’ve followed dealers and have even gotten quite high up in the chain, but no one knows they’re selling this stuff or at least no one will admit it. I suspect that they’re all afraid they’ll be arrested on murder charges instead of just drug dealing. We haven’t found a pattern on who gets it, either.”
Cam thought it through as she reached for the pack of cigarettes that lay on the table.
“And the agent who was killed…how did that happen?” she asked, not looking into Deems’ face.
“Thomas Dealy. He said he had a lead on something but he never got to say what it was. They found his body in an alley over in the warehouse district, overdosed on the stuff. We’re not sure if he took it unknowingly or was injected forcefully. The autopsy favors the latter. They’re still working on that.”
“Then he must have been close,” was Maggie’s assessment as she pulled her chair closer to the coffee table.
“Did he leave any notes or anything?” Cam asked. It seemed unlikely that an agent wouldn’t leave notes for someone with info. They most likely were mailed to someone he trusted.
“Not that we’ve been able to find. We’ve had forensic experts going through everything he owned. There’s no trace of anything. He called his control to say he thought he had a lead and that was the last we heard from him.”
The three remained silent for a moment.
“Well, that doesn’t leave me much to work with, does it?” Cam sat back as she lit her cigarette and took a long drag.
Deems frowned. “All we know is that it’s coming from somewhere in the east of the city, near the inner harbor, probably near Fells Point or the Canton area. That’s where most of the cases are showing up. Patterson Park seems to be the dumping ground for drug-related murders, too.”
“Ah!” Cam exclaimed as a thought struck her. “The body of one of the women I was in prison with was found there. I remember reading it in the paper. Everyone thought I had blown the whistle about the drug connection within the prison. That is until her body was found. Then they started to assume it must have been her.”
“There have been quite a few murders there. Either people are too afraid to talk or else no one’s seen anything,” Deems continued.
“Probably a combination of both. Are there no leads at all?”
“They’ve been investigating for over three years,” Deems confirmed. “There’s something going on there, but nothing concrete. We know nothing, just hunches and circumstantial evidence. We have nothing on anyone. What we need is something that could be brought before a grand jury. That’s your job.”
Cam grinned as she bobbed her head.
“Well, we have some suspects, but nothing to make an arrest or even get a search warrant. And…well.” Deems hesitated. “The reason I’m giving this to you is that we know there’s a mole in the department. We don’t know where but a lot of information has leaked out. I have the feeling that it’s how Dealy was fingered. I hesitate to assign another agent who’s known in the department until we can clear that up. That’s why I asked Dr. Thomason if we could use this house for the briefing.”
Cam took a deep breath.
Deems stopped to take several photographs out of his briefcase. “There’s another obstacle.”
He spread some photos out on the coffee table in front of Cam. She looked at each photo.
“Isn’t this the mayor? And is this the councilman who’s making all the speeches about getting drugs off the streets? He’s the one that’s pushing that new anti-drug bill through. I’ve been keeping an eye on that.” She indicated the one photo of a handsome man in his late fifties. The thick, silver hair around the thin face gave him a very distinguished look. Many people thought he was positioning himself to make a bid in the next mayoral or gubernatorial election.
“Who’s the other guy?” The third man was slightly out of shape and had a very cherubic look to his young face. He was probably no older than Cam but his dark hair was thinning.
“That’s Nick Gardiner. He’s a media liaison and speechwriter. He works with both the mayor and the councilman.” Deems carefully pointed at the picture.
“Okay.” Cam continued on to the other pictures.
“But we’re thinking the drug problem may start somewhere in the mayor’s office or at least with someone close to his office. There seems to be a lot of stonewalling going on there. We don’t want it to look like we’re pushing that hard. If it is in the mayor’s office, that could force them to go into hiding. It may even be in the police department. We don’t seem to get much help from them. The only police chief we can count on at all times is your former police chief, Benjamin Shafer.”
“No one else is helping?” Cam asked, shocked.
“Not all the time. Sometimes yes, other times no. Everyone seems to be playing his or her cards close to the vest. We’re not sure who to count on.”
Cam studied the other pictures.
“Who’s Gardiner talking to in this one?” she asked.
Deems looked at the photo before he spoke. “His uncle, Maurice Gardiner. He’s a restaurant owner in the Canton District of Baltimore. He imports food from South America. Coffee, mainly, mostly non-perishable items. He’s one of the people we’re trying to get a handle on. Everything looks fine but there’s just something that’s not right there. That’s part of your assignment, too.”
“Are you thinking I’d make a good waitress?” Cam smiled.
“Maybe,” Deems said seriously. “Well then, what do you suggest?”
* * * *
It was after midnight when Deems finally drove away.
“How do you feel about this?” Maggie asked as she picked up the empty coffee mugs to take back to the small kitchen.
Cam picked up her ashtray filled with burned-out butts and followed Maggie, her mind still on everything they’d talked about.
“Well.” She finally sighed, “it’ll be a challenge, but it’s all workable. I guess if I wasn’t ready, I never should have signed on for this.”
“All right. Then we’re set with everything; it all feels right to you?” Maggie confirmed as she loaded the mugs into the dishwasher.
Cam emptied her ashes into the waste can and handed the ashtray to Maggie to be added to the dishwasher.
“Yes,” she answered, her mind still focused on her tasks. “I think this will work.”
“Then you can start looking for an apartment when you get back from Boston.”
“Yes.” She forced her attention back to the present. “And don’t let me forget to transfer some money out of my account while I’m there,” Cam stated.
“You’ve spent everything?” Maggie knew that all of Cam’s pay went to an unidentified numbered account at a Boston bank and that Cam took out one lump sum every few months to pay for necessary expenses. Living the life of an ex-convict wasn’t very expensive and The Company expense account paid for almost everything while she was on assignment.
“No. I’m fine on that. But Lori was telling me about a friend who needs money. I may be able to help him.” She went on to explain George’s predicament.
“That’s very generous of you, Cameron. That’s a nice gesture.” Maggie was impressed by Cam’s generosity. “I can have the money transferred for you by fax if you want. It’ll save you having to go into Boston. That way Lori can pick you up at the airport and you won’t have to rent a car.”
“That would be a great help, Maggie. Are you sure it’s not a lot of trouble?”
“No.” Maggie brushed the thought away. “It’s just a phone call and a fax. I can do it before Allison gets in. I may donate a bit of my own, too.”
“Oh, Maggie,” Cam protested, “you don’t have to do that. David will raise enough money.”
“Nonsense. In cases like this, there is never enough money. Just write down the name of the fund and what bank it’s through and I’ll get the money transferred as soon as I can. Just leave it to me.”
“Thank you, Maggie. I know that you’re the one I can count on.”
“But do you trust me?” Maggie grinned, raising one eyebrow.
“Of course not! I trust no one.”
Maggie laughed. “I see that Charlie’s rules have made a lasting impression on you.”
Charlie Harris, one of Cam’s trainers, had made Cam memorize eight short rules to keep in mind so that she didn’t make any drastic mistakes.
“You can’t argue with things that save your life.” Cam nodded. “That was one rule that kept me alive in prison: Trust no one.”
They smiled at each other. Cam immediately ran through the rules in her head, One, Trust no one; Two, Be alert; Three, Owe no one; Four, Don’t divulge information that isn’t asked for; Five, Keep your ears open; Six, Stay in control; Seven, Stay detached; and Eight, Don’t show emotion. Those had been her mantra since she was in prison for her first assignment. Many times she’d broken them but never before calculating the risk. The one time that she hadn’t been alert, she’d gotten stabbed in the ribs. Knowing them kept her on her toes, and definitely kept her alive.
“I think we can help your friend’s son. It’s nice to know we can do something like that, isn’t it?” Maggie said.
“Yes.” Cam grinned. “Isn’t there a play that has the line, Money’s like manure. It’s not worth a thing until it’s spread around encouraging young things to grow?”
Maggie smiled. “Still, it’s nice of you.”