Chapter 20
Terry rubbed his temples as he stared at the whiteboard covered in names, dates, and connecting lines that looked like a spider's web of youth stupidity and adult enablement.
The DTF bullpen smelled like stale coffee and the lingering scent of breakfast burritos that one of the receptionists brought in, but Terry had learned to ignore worse during his years in narcotics.
"Alright," Terry said, his voice carrying the weight of command as he turned to face the assembled group. "Let's see what we've got."
Jeremy shifted in his chair, his notepad already filled with his precise handwriting. Pete leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed, while Colt sat at the head of the table with his own detectives, Mark and Brad, flanking him on either side.
"Four of the five renters lawyered up, but before then, all five claimed that they had no idea how the drugs got into the house. They claim it wasn’t there when they arrived, so someone else must have brought it in," Jeremy began, flipping through his notes.
"The bad news is Madison Hartwell's daddy opened his checkbook faster than a slot machine in Vegas. "
Terry's jaw tightened. Money always complicated things, especially when it came from the kind of family that could make problems disappear with a phone call.
"Attorney Richard Hartwell is representing all of them except Claire Smith," Pete added, his voice edged with frustration. "His own daughter, Madison, Robert Whitman, Theodore Travers, and Bill Manderly. Claire Smith was more forthcoming."
Colt leaned forward, his weathered face grim. "What are we looking at for charges?"
"The commonwealth attorney will look at possession with intent to distribute if it looks like we can make it stick," Mark said, consulting his notes. "The property destruction charge is solid. That house took a beating."
"About that," Brad interjected, his pen tapping against the table. "Attorney Hartwell's already claiming the lease clause about tenant responsibility will be honored. Says Robert Whitman is already planning on restitution to Harrison Blackwood."
A frustrated chuckle burst from Terry’s chest. "What about the drug charges?"
"If we can make the case," Jeremy said, his voice cautious. "The problem is proving intent to distribute. So far, no fingerprints were found on the drug bags. With high-powered attorneys..."
"They'll argue it didn’t belong to anyone there," Pete finished, disgust evident in his tone.
Terry paced over to the whiteboard again, staring at the names, his hands propped on his hips. "What about Claire Smith?" Terry asked, turning back to face the group.
"That's our best lead," Mark said, his voice gaining strength. "Out of the original five staying there, she was the one who seemed the most upset at what was happening."
Terry nodded slowly. "Have we reached out to her attorney?"
"Called this morning," Jeremy said. "Benjamin Walsh. Defense attorney out of Richmond. He's willing to set up a meeting, but he wants to know exactly what we're offering in exchange for cooperation."
"Smart lawyer," Pete muttered.
"Another rich family?" Terry asked.
"Her father owns three car dealerships in the area," Brad confirmed. "Smith Automotive Group. Not the level of Hartwell money, but enough to hire quality representation."
Terry returned to his seat, his mind processing the information. Claire Smith was their best shot at unraveling the bigger picture. Someone didn't just stumble onto a party location with that kind of drug supply. Whoever brought it had plans with at least one person there… maybe more.
"Set up the meeting with Walsh," Terry decided. "I want to hear what Claire has to say. Even if she doesn't want to cooperate, her reactions might tell us something."
"What about the other kid? The one from the Shore," Colt asked. "He might be more willing to talk without high-powered lawyers whispering in their ears."
Terry considered this and nodded. The local teenager who'd been at the party was probably scared, confused, and looking for a way to distance themselves from the situation. Fear could be a powerful motivator for honesty.
"The Garcia kid might be worth talking to," Pete suggested. "Jose Garcia. His parents were upset with him. I know him a little and think he’s a good kid. He might give us more information."
"Good," Terry said, making a note.
Jeremy cleared his throat. "There's something else. The drug evidence we collected... it's higher quality than what we usually see on the street. This wasn't some kid dealing dime bags behind the school. This was professional-grade stuff."
Terry's pulse quickened. Professional-grade drugs meant professional-grade dealers, which meant this college party might be connected to something much bigger than they initially thought.
"What kind of professional grade?" Colt asked, his voice sharp with interest.
"Pure cocaine and some pills that the lab says are pharmaceutical quality. Not the homemade stuff we usually see," Jeremy explained. "This came from a serious operation."
The room fell silent as the implications sank in.
Terry felt the familiar tingle of a case that was about to explode into something much more complex.
"I think we're looking at the tip of the iceberg here.
This wasn't just a party that got out of hand.
Someone used that location as a drop point. " Terry’s voice carried new urgency.
"So what's our next move?" Pete asked.
Terry stood, his mind already racing through the possibilities. "We talk to Claire Smith and see what she's willing to tell us beyond the initial questioning. We’ll interview the Garcia kid. And we start digging into where those drugs came from."
He paused, looking around the room at the faces of men he trusted with his life. "And we do it fast, before Hartwell's money makes all our evidence disappear."
The meeting broke up with a sense of urgency that hadn't been there an hour before. Terry remained in the room, staring at the whiteboard with its maze of connections. Somewhere in that tangle of names and relationships was the key to a much bigger operation.
He picked up his phone and dialed Sandra's number, then stopped before hitting send. She was probably busy with her clients.
Terry pocketed the phone and headed for his office.
He had work to do, and the clock was ticking.
His phone vibrated before he'd even settled into his chair, and grinned to see Sandra's name appear on the caller ID.
Despite the weight of the investigation pressing on his shoulders, he felt his mood lift slightly.
"Hey, beautiful," he answered, leaning back in his chair. “I was just thinking about calling you.”
"Hi." Sandra's voice carried a tension he recognized as the careful tone she used when mixing personal and professional concerns. "I know you're probably swamped, but I need to talk to you about something work-related."
Terry straightened, his detective instincts sharpening. "What's going on?"
"I know this is an active case, and I'm not asking for details," Sandra said quickly. "But I wanted to make sure you know that I work with Jose Garcia's parents. They came to see me today, and they mentioned Jose might need a criminal defense attorney."
Terry's pen paused over his notepad. "Jose Garcia. He was at the party."
"According to his parents, yes, but not the way you might think.
" Sandra's voice grew more animated, the way it did when she was advocating for a client.
"Terry, this kid isn't one of the entitled ones with lawyer parents.
His family are good, working-class people who are scared out of their minds. "
"Sandra—"
"I know you can't discuss details, but I need you to understand what kind of family we're talking about here.
Manuel Garcia is an electrician who works his ass off to provide for his family.
Carmen cleans houses and takes care of other people's kids.
They're not the kind of people who can afford attorneys to make problems disappear. "
Terry rubbed his forehead, feeling the familiar tension of cases where good people got caught in bad situations. "We’ve heard his version initially. We’ll talk to him with his parents in attendance since he’s a minor."
"They said he was just delivering pizza to the party." Sandra's voice carried conviction. "He works two jobs plus keeps his grades up in high school. This is a seventeen-year-old boy who was trying to do the right thing and got caught up in something way over his head."
Terry stared at his whiteboard, at Jose Garcia's name written in the corner under "witnesses to interview." The kid had admitted to delivering the pizzas, but Terry wanted to talk to him again.
"The parents are terrified," Sandra continued. "They don't understand the legal system, and they're watching their son potentially get lumped in with kids whose parents can buy their way out of trouble."
"Sandra, I appreciate you calling, but—"
"I'm not asking you to go easy on him if he broke the law," Sandra said firmly. "I'm asking you to remember that not every kid at that party was there for the same reasons."
Terry closed his eyes and chuckled. "I hear you. Trust me… I got it.”
Sandra was quiet for a moment. "Thank you… I just… I… oh hell, Terry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make your day worse than I’m sure it already is."
“You calling for any reason makes my day better,” he vowed. “And I promise to keep an open mind. Believe me, I have lots of angles to look at.” He glanced at the case files stacked on his desk, now glad that she had called. Just hearing her voice made him smile.
"Thank you." Sandra's relief was audible.
“By the way, I wanted to ask you to dinner. A real date.”
“Ooh, I like the sound of that. Although you hardly need to wine and dine me… I’m a sure thing.”
“Not going to take advantage of that, babe. We’re getting dressed up and going out to dinner. The kids will be fine, and I want to spend more time getting to know you.”
They settled on a free evening, and he hung up reluctantly, wishing he had more time to just talk to her… and not about a case.
Walking back to his detectives’ room, he looked at the board and made a note to prioritize the interview with Jose Garcia.
The kid's story might help separate the innocent bystanders from the actual players in whatever operation had been using that house.
But he also needed to understand exactly what Jose had seen and when he'd seen it.
The phone call had reminded him why he'd fallen for Sandra in the first place. Her fierce advocacy and her ability to see past surface circumstances to the human beings underneath. It also reminded him why dating a Legal Aid attorney sometimes made his job more complicated.
Terry looked over at Jeremy. "Set up that interview with Jose Garcia as soon as possible. And Jeremy? Treat him like a witness, not a suspect. At least until we know more."