"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.”
