Especially in the limited time we have left.â
âMaybe by then we can prove theyâre setting up a meth lab and can get a new wire for that,â suggested Laura.
âDo you know the work involved to do that?â replied Connie. âBesides, proving itâs a meth lab wonât take long. If we keep a new wire running in the hope of getting evidence on a murder when the wire is for dope, then defence will claim we were on a fishing expedition and have it tossed out of court.â
âQuit being so pessimistic,â said Jack. âGet the bug in. I donât care if it is only for a couple of days. I think they will talk about the murder.â
âWhat are you?â she snorted. âOne of these guys who says the glass is half full?â
âNaw,â replied Jack. âWho cares if itâs half full or half empty. Itâs just beer. Slam it back.â
Laura caught a glint in Jackâs eye. She knew he had a plan.
* * *
The investigators were successful in placing listening devices in the basement suite late that night. Neither Varrick nor Zack returned or did anything of significance for another two days. It was nine oâclock at night before Varrick retraced his steps from Headstones and once more met with Zack at the strip mall before returning to the basement suite.
Connie stayed in the monitoring room to listen to the recorders. She had three hours before the wiretap would be disconnected. Jack and Laura were on surveillance and saw the men unloading boxes from the van. By the sound of glassware and a few comments she heard, Connie knew that they were setting up another meth lab.
âJack,â she radioed. âOne of âem said it was the last of the boxes. Also a comment about having a few days to set it up before they get the juice.â
âCopy that,â replied Laura in his place. âTheyâre likely referring to the chemicals they need.â
âThey could be leaving soon,â replied Connie. She waited a moment for a response, but there was nothing but silence. âThis is it,â she lamented over the radio. âTonight is our last chance. At midnight we have to pull the plug.â She waited for a reply, but didnât get one. âJack? You there?â she asked.
Laura answered and said, âJack left. You should hear his fist pound on their door any second.â
As if on cue, Connie heard a loud thump over the recorder, followed by Zackâs nervous whisper to Varrick, âWho the fuck is that?â
Connie let out an involuntary gasp as her stomach constricted. Her lungs froze and her mouth unconsciously dropped open as she strained to listen.
Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Several anxious seconds ticked past and Connie stared at the silent recorder. Is it working? Moments later, the sound of footsteps told her that it was.
âWho is it?â came Varrickâs voice. âWhoâs there?â
Dead silence was followed by the sound of Varrick slowly opening the door.
âThereâs nobody here,â he said. âWhat the fuck! Look whatâs hanginâ on the knob!â
âA gold fuckinâ cross?â responded Zack.
Connie heard the door knob rattle slightly before the door was closed again.
âThereâs a piece of paper tied to it,â said Zack.
âA fuckinâ gold cross,â muttered Varrick, sounding bewildered.
âSomeoneâs yankinâ our chain over that dead priest!â
âHis was real gold,â replied Varrick. âThis is painted wood.â
âWho the fuck put it on the doorknob? Read the note.â
Connie heard a rustle of paper and Varrick said, â God knows what you did and is waiting ⦠â Varrick started laughing.
âWhatâs so funny?â demanded Zack.
âCocktail is fuckinâ with us.â
âYou see him out there?â
âNo, but who else could it be?â answered
Tabatha Vargo, Melissa Andrea