“Well, maybe they’d hidden something really well.”
They couldn’t have hidden anything to the point Lucky wouldn’t find it. “Somehow, I’m not believing that.” He needed a reason, not just for his sake, but to save Bo and Johnson’s reputations. If someone had it in for him, he’d find a way to settle the score, and no one, absofuckinglutelyno one, messed with one of Lucky’s without paying dearly.
Bo closed the distance and wrapped Lucky in a firm hug. “Why is this bothering you so badly? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
As much as he hated to lose the comfort of Bo’s arms, he pulled back enough to make eye contact. “Just a sec.” Lucky pulled out his cell phone and sent Walter a text.“Can I tell Bo about retirement thing?”
Walter wrote back,“I didn’t mean you couldn’t discuss matters with your partner.”
Okay. Getting the boss’s permission didn’t make the words come any easier. “Assholes higher up are pushing Walter to retire.”
Bo’s mouth and eyes flew wide. “What? Why?”
“I dunno. They say he no longer meets the requirements.”
Bo threw his arms in the air and whirled around. “Walter doesn’t need to retire until he’s damned good and ready. Is there someone we can make our case to?”
Lucky clenched and unclenched his jaw, initial rage returning, fueled by Bo’s righteous anger. “If there is, I’d like to introduce the sumbitch to my fist.”
“There must be something we can do if Walter’s being forced out against his will. What does Walter say? Does he want to go, or does he want to fight?”
“I think he’s given up.” Defeat wasn’t a good look on Walter, either. “Legally, I’m not sure what they can do but make it clear he isn’t wanted.”
Lucky’s phone chimed again.“I received DEA report. Stop by my office in the morning.”
And didn’t that pretty much guarantee a sleepless night.
Chapter Six
In the boss’s office. Again. Lucky claimed his usual chair.
Walter pulled a few printed pages from a manila folder—a manila folder with a coffee cup ring on the front. Most in the department would have read off their laptop, or in Bo’s case, one of those fancy tablet thingies. Not Boss. Old school all the way.
Solid. Dependable. You knew what to expect with Walter.
Damn the Southeastern Narcotics Bureau for not appreciating him.
“I have the DEA’s report.” Walter’s stony expression gave away nothing.
“And?”
“In following up on an anonymous tip, they discovered a shipment of controlled substance raw materials from a company with a revoked DEA registration.” Walter’s eyes darted back and forth while he read. “They’ve cited negligence in due diligence and insuring Chastain only purchased from reputable sources.”
“Da fu…” Lucky cut off mid-“fuck”.
Walter passed the report to Lucky. Lucky filed away information. He’d seen Chastain’s methods, and met the people responsible for keeping the company compliant with state and federal regulations. While he normally scoffed at pharma companies, this one worked hard to do everything right.
Kinda like a company owned by Bo, run by Bo, and staffed with nothing but a bunch of Bo clones.
Lucky glanced up from reading. “Hey! This isn’t exactly a shipment.” Twenty-five grams. Merely a sample for use in setting lab testing standards. “Getting their registration yanked had me thinking kilos.”
“It doesn’t matter how small the quantity if the supplier isn’t properly licensed.”
“We found no evidence of this supplier in any of their records, nor did we find any shipments not properly accounted for.” Never lifting his eyes from the report, Lucky asked, “Walter, do you have a purchase order, DEA 222 forms, packing lists?”
When Walter didn’t answer, Lucky glanced up from the damning paperwork. “Boss?”
Walter missed three times before successfully placing his coffee cup on the edge of his desk. He clutched his shoulder, teeth bared in a grimace. “Lucky, I…” His face went slack. The chair tipped.
