“It’s evidence, now,” he told them. “But we have to stop this pair before they cause any real harm.”
Tex jumped right in. “In that regard, I actually had somebody do some…snooping aroundyourproperty.”
Not her brothers’ property, but hers.
Tex didn’t sound bothered to admit he’d sent someone to trespass. He actually seemed pumped. “I won’t elaborate on who I got to have a look, but let’s just say that beer isn’t the only thing your brothers are brewing up in that barn of yours.”
Buck knew it took Bobbie a second to understand that the barn was, indeed, hers.
Which fucking blew Buck’s mind, because it had been, all along.
“What are they doing in there?” Bobbie finally asked. This time her voice sounded far less sure.
“They’re cutting MDMA with fentanyl.”
“Ah, shit.” The chief, who’d been silent up until this point, let out a swear that Buck knew was antithetical to how the man presented himself.
Mason just growled.
“MDMA?” Bobbie repeated, clearly the only one in the dark.
Buck expounded on Tex’s terminology.
“You probably know it as Molly, a psychoactive street drug.”
“That’s correct,” Tex confirmed.
Understanding dawned on Bobbie’s face, and she grew irate all over again.
“And my brothers? They cut it with fentanyl, then…sell it?” she glowered.
Her eyes suddenly went wide and her mouth fell open. “Oh, my God.Oh, my God!That’s what I’ve been bringing to Canada every week.”
That realization hit Buck at the exact same time, and he didn’t know what had him angrier. That the pair were dealing out of Bobbie’s barn, or that they’d used her as a mule.
Buck hated that she’d been duped.
Bobbie continued. “That’swhat those rich people are taking after they eat that make them all…giddy and out-of-it.” Her face twisted up in fury. “Damn them. I thought I was bringing beer to Monsieur Provard, when all this time I’ve beensmugglingdrugs.”
Buck didn’t want Bobbi thinking about that too hard; about her imagined culpability. He chose to shift her perspective, get her thinking about what she could do from here on out to mitigate her misplaced feeling of guilt.
“So, we’re going to stop them, right?” he asked Tex. “What’s Bobbie’s next move?”
“I’m glad you asked. Everybody listen up, because I have a plan…”
Twenty minuteslater they’d hashed out almost all the details, and Buck didn’t like it. The scheme revolved around Bobbie being central to a sting, and there were so many ways it could go wrong.
Buck’s skin crawled. He couldn’t deny her involvement, though, because Bobbie was eager and one hundred percent onboard with the plan. The quickest way to alienate her was to tell her she couldn’t do something. He knew that well, from the past.
Fuck.
What choice did he have but to keep mum, even though it was killing him.
To give Tex his due, the scheme was a good one, but nothing was foolproof. It would be up to Buck to make sure nothing went sideways. Even if he couldn’t be with Bobbie at certain, crucial moments, he could make sure, somehow, that he was nearby. In that regard, a call to Spence would be taking place as soon as Tex hung up.
Tex’s idea was for Bobbie to make her Canadian trip next week, per usual. But this time her boat would be tagged with a tracking device, and she’d be closely monitored by the Canadian Coast Guard in joint operation with Border Patrol, the US Coast Guard and the Canadian Royal Mounted Police—dubbed the Shiprider Program. The various agencies would watch from afar, wait for the product to be offloaded from Bobbie’s boat and into Monsieur Provard’s house, then they’d conduct a raid on the mansion.
Tex speculated out loud that the substance Bobbie was bringing up was most likely a drop in the bucket for the drugs Provard would have on hand.
