Page 58 of Dichotomy

Harbor Crest Holdings

Blue Meridian Imports

Kestrel Finance Holdings

Ironshore Transit Services

North Dock Capital

Cloverline Risk Solutions

Something about the list niggled at me. I didn’t recognize any of those names. I didn’t think so, at least. I ran a quick search through the Archers’ database. None of the companies came up. So why was something picking at the edge of my brain? I took a breath and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes. Was it from a case? No, I would have written it in the case notes. Was it from SDS? I didn’t think so, but it was worth a look. I opened my eyes, and my gaze landed on one of the pictures from the judge’s office I had hanging on the glass wall. It was a picture of his office wall, where several framed pictures hung. Most were of family or friends, but there was one of a bird. The bird was bright blue with an orange chest and a long black bill. It was swooping over a small stream.

I blinked slowly. It was a kingfisher. Kingfisher. KF. Kestrel Finance. A kestrel was a small colorful bird of prey.

“Liam.” I straightened in my seat, urgency hurrying my words. “Search for any emails from Kestrel Finance Holdings or any email address that could use those words or the letters K or F. I think Kestrel Finance is a shell company for Kingfisher.”

“On it, Boss Lady,” Liam said, his gaze focused on his screen. Emails started flashing up on the screen. “Found it. There’s another email attached to these messages a lot.”

“I bet it’s the director,” I murmured. The director, the judge, and Kingfisher connected? This was what we were looking for.

“I’ve got something as well,” Sebastian said. “Something bigger.”

What could be bigger than finding out the three of them were connected?

“The burner email address gave me an idea,” Sebastian continued. “A man like the judge would keep evidence in case anything ever came to light.”

“Evidence that implicated him?” I asked.

“Yes, and others. I searched through his files again for any folders named something really boring. Or mundane. Something like Old Bench Memos.” Sebastian grinned, and it was a beautiful sight. “It was encrypted but not well enough. It’s enough to bury him and the director.”

“And I think I know what it says,” Liam said.

“What?” I asked.

“The emails between the judge and the director’s burner accounts talk about shipping goods through the freight lines at the old rail line. The director is arranging the routes, while the judge is helping keep the local eyes off the rail yard. There’s an email from the judge saying that the new development of the rail tracks could be problematic, but the director assured him thattheir mutual friend will make sure their business isn’t disrupted. I think they’re talking about the Kingfisher.”

“What goods are they shipping through?” I asked. “Drugs? Weapons?”

Sebastian frowned as he hunched over his screen. “I’m not sure. I’m working on decrypting the files now. There are definitely manifests in here, but it’s all coded. Nothing concrete.”

“What do the emails say?” I asked Liam.

He studied the screen. “There’s one here that says: Processing team flagged a Fresh Intake arriving ahead of schedule. Allocate space and expedite sorting. And another one that says: Shipment marked Condition A requires immediate clearance. Partner wants them moved within the hour.”

I frowned. That language was familiar. But from where?

“Hey, boss.” Maya stood over Liam’s shoulder, their face pale. “I know that language. Or what they’re talking about.”

Liam looked over his shoulder at them. “What?”

“The Miller case. Stephen Miller. We got him arrested for drugging college women at the bar and…”

“Trafficking them,” I breathed.

Fuck, I remember that case. It was bad. We still hadn’t found all the women who had disappeared. We turned over everything we knew to a contact we had in the?—

“Fucking hell!” I stood up and started pacing. “We turned over everything we had on that case to the FIA. The fucking FIA!” I whirled and looked at Sebastian. “The director—Fuck!”