37

Avery entered the precinct, needing to hear Mitch’s loud voice spouting off some stupid bit of trivia or a witty Marvel quote.

Apparently you really are the one with the knack for getting into trouble, Mitch.

A dose of Tylenol had taken the edge off her headache, but had done little to ease the roller coaster of emotions as the reality of her partner’s death began to close in around her.

Carlos and Tory sat at their desks, working silently, while Avery stood in the middle of the room for a moment, searching for something to say. Anything that might help ease the haunting reality of what had happened.

Tory spoke first. “Hey. The captain called us in, but I thought you were supposed to be off until tomorrow morning resting.”

She caught the concern in Tory’s eyes, the same worry she’d seen in her father’s and Jackson’s eyes, but being back at the station had only proved to remind her that she wanted—needed—to be here working this case. “The captain wants me to be in on the interview with Mrs. Sourn.”

Tory dropped her pen onto her desk. “How are you feeling?”

Avery fought back the tears. “Like something’s missing. I’m ready for Mitch to walk through that door and say something crazy that makes me laugh.”

Carlos let out a low chuckle. “He was always good for a laugh.”

She studied Mitch’s empty desk. An unfinished pile of reports lay stacked haphazardly on the edge. The dirty Spider-Man mug with a coffee ring around the top sat beside the computer keyboard. In front of it was the half-empty glass jar of Milk Duds he kept especially for her. Nothing here had changed since the moment he walked out of this office the last time.

For the rest of them, everything had changed.

Tory pushed her chair back from her desk a couple of inches and pressed her palms against her thighs. “Avery?”

Avery tried to ignore the lump swelling in her throat. It was either that or start crying again. “I’m just trying to process the fact that he’s really gone.”

“We . . . we all are.” Carlos’s voice broke. “Have they settled on a date for the funeral?”

“Yeah, I talked to Kayleigh this morning. It’ll be Wednesday morning, in order to give family time to get here. My father will deliver the eulogy.”

Tory shook her head. “I hate funerals. They always make me wonder why we don’t say all those nice things to people while they’re still alive.”

“You’re right, you know. It’s too easy to take each other for granted.” It was hitting each of them differently, but it was up to her to keep them focused. “We were . . . we are a good team. And if Mitch were here, he’d want me to tell you both that.”

“And he would want us to close this case before anyone else died,” Tory added.

Carlos stared at Mitch’s desk. “He’d tell us that there’s a hero in all of us, that keeps us honest, gives us strength, makes us noble. And finally gets us to die with pride. May Parker. Spider-Man 2.”

The quote struck a chord. Honest, strong, and a hero. Mitch had been all those things. “I guess Mitch rubbed off on us more than I realized.”

Movement in the doorway caught Avery’s attention. The ache threatening to engulf her morphed into irritation. “Mason?”

“The captain called me in.” Mason walked slowly into the room, as if he knew he was stepping into enemy territory. “Listen, I haven’t had the chance to tell you how sorry I am about Mitch’s death. I know that all of you were close.”

Just like you and my brother used to be.

She squelched the thought.

She dug for a grain of forgiveness, but came up lacking. Sometimes it was just so hard. “It’s going to take some time to realize that he’s really not coming back.”

“And,” he continued, “I know that you’re only letting me work with you on this case because of Captain Peterson’s orders, but I really think I can help.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Carlos and I were planning to go get some coffee.” Tory signaled to Carlos. “Can we get either of you anything?”

“I’m fine.” Avery nodded her thanks. No matter what she thought about the situation, she was going to have to include Mason in the investigation. But before they got started, there were things that needed to be said.

Tory looked at Mason.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Avery waited until Carlos and Tory left the room. “I guess it’s time we attempted to clear the air between us.”

“Your feelings toward me since Michael’s death have never been a secret, and I’m going to assume that nothing has changed in the past twenty-four hours. So let’s get it out in the open. Ask me whatever you want, and I’ll give you an honest answer.”

“Okay. Let’s start with why you were working undercover in the Sourns’ business, and what you know that might help my case.”

“I was working on the case in conjunction with an ongoing FBI investigation.” Mason caught her gaze. “We were looking for evidence that would bring down a major arms network working primarily out of Asia and the Middle East that we believe has connections to Sourn’s business. My role as an undercover employee was to tape conversations, track the guns, collect whatever evidence I could, and eventually help to take down as many as we could.”

Operation Stronghold.

She’d spent a couple hours last night going over the files and reports she had, but she needed to hear things from Mason firsthand. “What were you doing at the warehouse yesterday?”

“We found out that there was a shipment of illegal weapons going out, and I was able to arrange to be one of the drivers. Two million dollars in M-16s, handguns, and ammo from India and headed for Mexico. I was planning to make the run in order to take down both the sellers and the buyers.”

“Why were the guns loaded?”

“An associate of the buyer showed up unexpectedly to inspect the guns to ensure that his boss was getting what was agreed on. He was in the process of doing that when you arrived. If I had known a raid was being planned . . .”

So Mitch’s death was reduced to nothing more than a series of unfortunate events?

Avery leaned back against her desk. Trust was something earned. Forgiveness a messy process. But what if everything about Mason’s story added up? What if she’d been wrong about what happened at the warehouse and Michael’s death?

For now, she had no choice but to shove the lingering doubts aside. Mitch was dead, and they had a job to do.

“As for Sourn,” Mason continued, “I’ve spent the past few months getting to know the players and getting them to trust me. I know who’s involved, which means you need me as much as I need you. We have a chance to take down this entire network if we work together.”

“What do you know about what’s happening right now?”

“A couple of hours ago, two uniforms pulled Mrs. Sourn over for speeding, about a hundred and twenty miles northeast of Atlanta on I-85 toward Charlotte. They realized that there was a BOLO out on her and brought her in.”

“Why was she heading for Charlotte?”

“She hasn’t said. She insisted on speaking to her lawyer first.”

“She could have been planning to meet her husband, or maybe just trying to get across state lines.”

Carlos and Tory stepped back into the office, coffee in hand.

Avery fought the nagging frustration gnawing in her gut. “The four of us are going to have to work together if we’re going to bring down Sourn and his people. Tory, I need you to try to track down any land or property belonging to the Sourns or their company.”

“I’m on it.”

“Carlos, what about the forensic evidence from the searches of the Sourns’ property? As of this moment, I’m walking in there with little or no solid evidence that will tie Mrs. Sourn to the crime. Follow up with the lab and see if you can get us some leverage—”

“I might have something.” Tory sat back down at her desk and clicked on a file. “When you came in, I was digging through some of the city’s surveillance videos. I’ve been waiting to hear back from a contact.”

Tory printed out something, then handed Avery a black-and-white photo. “This was taken Monday morning just after two.”

“This just might do it.” Avery smiled and stuck the photo into her file before heading toward the door. “Let me know if you hear from forensics. And in the meantime, we’ll hope this gives us the leverage we need to gain a confession.”

Avery walked toward the interrogation room with Mason, wondering how she’d come to the place where she was working a case with a man she’d been trying to convict for the past few months.

Mason strode down the hallway beside her. “I hope you know that I want to take down Sourn as badly as you do.”

Avery stopped to face him. “Why?”

“Because while I’ve been working undercover, I’ve seen what this man is involved in. You’ve got a dead girl, and a dead partner. Robert Sourn has figured out how to skirt the law, and up until now, no one has ever been able to gather enough evidence to convict him.”

Avery gauged his expression. “This is personal somehow, isn’t it?”

“I had a little brother killed in a drive-by with an illegal weapon. He was seven years old. They found the gun but never found out who pulled the trigger.”

“I don’t ever remember you talking about that.”

“It was a long time ago.”

Whatever she thought about him on a personal level couldn’t erase the reality that she understood the pain he felt. “I’m sorry.”

“Like I said, it was a long time ago, but even so, that doesn’t change the fact that men like Sourn have to be taken off the streets. Too many people have already been hurt.”

“Then let’s do whatever it takes to put this guy behind bars.”

Avery’s phone rang as she started walking again. She checked the caller ID. “Jackson. Hey, I hope you’ve got something for me, because I’m headed into an interview with Mrs. Sourn.”

“I’ve got exactly what you’re looking for.”

She stopped in front of the interrogation room door and waited for him to continue.

“A match on your murder weapon.”