“And unofficially?”
“We believe some of those containers move more than electronics and machine parts.”
“Drugs?”
“Sometimes. Also, weapons, counterfeit electronics, illegal vapes… Whatever turns a profit.”
Coop shifted, the worn vinyl creaking. “You got proof of that?”
“Not enough to stick yet.”
“What about violence?”
Morgan went quiet, weighing how much to say, even to a fellow cop. “People around Kedrov have a habit of ending up dead,” he said. “Business partners, rivals, debtors…”
“Let me guess. He’s conveniently not around while it’s going down.”
“Always somewhere else,” Morgan confirmed. “On a yacht in the Caribbean. On a ski trip in Zurich. Pick your postcard.”
“Rock-solid alibis, I’m sure.”
“Every time.”
Coop pictured Debra Wilson on her living room floor, days-old blood congealed into the carpet. Vacant stare. Left ring finger missing. “Does Kedrov lend money?”
“Does he,” Morgan grunted. “Six-figure minimums. Short terms. Usurious rates to make it worth his while. And he only lends to people who can’t go to a bank.”
“And when they miss a payment?”
“You already know the answer to that.”
Yeah. He did.
He glanced at the Wilson file. A quarter million dollars gone. A severed finger delivered like a message.
“Appreciate the background,” Coop said.
“Information’s a two-way street, Lieutenant. Tell me why you’re asking.”
“One of his borrowers missed an installment.”
Another stretch of silence.
Then Morgan’s voice dropped. “Careful, Lieutenant. If Kedrov’s involved, you’re stepping into deeper water than you think.”
“I understand. Thanks for the words of caution.”
Coop set the phone down slowly.
Ninety-nine percent sure of the players and the script. But suspicion wasn’t evidence.
Somewhere between Alexander Kedrov and Thomas Wilson, a quarter million had vanished. His instinct said, find the money. Find the girl.
He pushed away from the desk and grabbed his hat. He hated what he was thinking, but there was one person who might see something the rest of them couldn’t. And she kept surprising him.
Chapter 5
Coop released the yellow tape on one side. It fluttered across the entryway as he unlocked the door. Before he pushed it inward, he glanced at her and repeated, for the third time at least, “You don’t have to do this, Erica.”
