“True, but not appropriate for a report.” Lily bent to stuff her phone back in her purse’s outside pocket. Bending hurt her arm. Everything hurt her damned arm. The purse was a problem, too. She needed it, but she had to wear it over her good arm, which hampered her. She could try using a fanny pack, but aside from the ugly factor, they didn’t hold much. Like her gun.
Not that she could shoot worth a damn left-handed. Maybe she should learn. “What else don’t I know about your wild and woolly youth?”
“All sorts of things. Like the time Abel arrested me.”
“Abel Karonski? He arrested you?”
“Yes, and no, I’m not telling—not until you tell me about this Cody Beck dude you’re going to see after you talk to the task force dude.”
“Why did you ask me that?” Lily demanded. “Who told you about Cody?”
“I know all, see all—”
“No, you don’t.”
Cynna grinned. “Maybe not, but you made a point of telling Rule you’d be tipping Beck off personally. You didn’t tell him the name of the task force dude you’re meeting with, but you told him Beck’s name in such a careful, casual way. Then there was the way he looked at you when you told him, as if—”
“That is deeply annoying.”
“Yeah, but you still want to know why Abel arrested me, so talk. Who’s Beck?”
“A good cop. And, yes, we had a thing years ago. But it’s the first part that counts.”
“That was a ridiculously skinny spilling of the beans. Don’t think you’re getting away with it, but first tell me why you’re tipping Beck off when you’re also passing that fat file to Task Force Dude.”
Lily drummed her fingers, hunting words for what was mostly a hunch, stringing together an assortment of conjectures.
The meet she’d set up with the DEA component of the task force wasn’t hunch. She’d take Mark Burke to lunch and tell him about a tip she had from a reliable informant, and she’d give him a dossier on Friar and his chief lieutenants. Because once Lily learned what Arjenie’s sister could do, she’d thought of the new, untraceable date rape drug with a magical component. The drug they called Do Me.
Friar was spending a lot of money setting up Humans First. The militia he’d co-opted, for example. Rule doubted they were working for free. Friar and his lieutenants did a lot of traveling, too. He had money, sure, but he was no Bill Gates. Maybe he needed deeper pockets. Maybe he got a kick out of selling Do Me to finance his operation.
To rescue Dya, they needed a reason to search Friar’s properties. Suspicion of the manufacture and distribution of a banned substance would do the trick, but they needed evidence, something to take to a judge.
Lily didn’t have that. She was on the multidepartmental task force coordinating the efforts of various agencies, but the actual investigating was done by the DEA and by local law enforcement … like the San Diego County Sheriff’s Office. Where Cody Beck was a deputy.
“The longer you’re silent, the more you get my imagination going,” Cynna said. “Like maybe you don’t trust Task Force Dude.”
“No, Burke seems like a good cop,” Lily said. “I think he’s committed to finding and stopping whoever’s making Do Me, but … I don’t know. He’s a careful sort, and he’s overworked, and I can’t give him a solid link between Friar and Do Me. That’s what I want him to find. I think he’ll check out my tip, but if he doesn’t find something pretty fast to hold his interest, it’ll go on the back burner.”
“He’ll listen, but he’ll grain-of-salt it. Beck’s your backup plan because he’ll believe you.”
“Pretty much, yeah.” She grinned suddenly. “Cody and I do have that history you’re so curious about. He’ll take what I say seriously.”
“Speaking of history, tell me about—”
“Just a sec.” Lily’s phone had beeped. That meant a text message, which she didn’t usually check immediately. But she didn’t object to an interruption right now, so she bent and retrieved her phone.
It didn’t take long to read. “Son of a bitch.”
“What?” Then Cynna’s phone dinged.
“That will be a message from Croft,” Lily said. “Looks like Jeff made it in to see Croft okay. The MCD is operating under Code 300 until further notice.”
THE next time Rule was summoned to Isen’s office, Cullen went with him. He’d just finished the charms they needed for tomorrow—and, being Cullen, he was curious.
Benedict was already there, leaning over Arjenie’s shoulder. “Good,” he said. “Take a look.”
Arjenie began explaining before Rule reached her. “I’ve been running searches of several databases using Friar’s name and those of his key people. Breck’s popped up because Paul Chittenden purchased it last year.”
“Friar’s West Coast lieutenant.” Rule peered at the screen, which showed another invoice. This one showed that Breck’s Disposal had purchased a high-end security system last April.
“Now, Breck’s is a pretty small outfit.” She brought up another window, which showed a tax return. “They grossed a couple hundred thousand last year, and, as you can see, they actually had a net loss. So it seemed odd for them to buy such an expensive security system. It took some digging, but I found the address where that system was delivered.” The next window she clicked on showed an aerial map. “Right there.” She pointed at the red marker Googlemaps put at the address. “It’s a small house in the middle of nowhere. According to county records, that house is unoccupied … but it’s the only structure on the western edge of the mountain bordering Friar’s property. Or hill,” she added. “I don’t know if you call that a mountain or a hill.”
“First clue,” Cullen said. “It’s in the mountains.”
“That makes sense,” Arjenie said, “Only the elevation isn’t …” She glanced up at Benedict, who’d rested one hand on her shoulder. “And that’s not relevant.”
No, it wasn’t. “Good find,” Rule said. “It looks like whatever Friar built under the guise of replacing his swimming pool, he’s got it wired against intruders.”
“So it seems. Naturally, I wondered what Breck’s Disposal disposes of. Turns out it’s medical waste. And in the past year, they’ve particularly focused on disposing of unused portions of an intravenously administered MRI contrast agent that, until recently, was used to enhance images in MRI and MRA procedures.”
He looked at her blankly.
Patiently she said, “When the government began phasing out the use of gadolinium in MRI imaging agents, it also regulated the disposal of existing stocks of such solutions. That is the type of medical waste Breck’s has been handling lately.”
Gadolinium. The key ingredient in … “Gado. The bastard is extracting the gadolinium and using it to make gado.”
She nodded and pushed her glasses up. “Yes, I think he must be. The question is, why?”
Rule’s eyebrows lifted. “Because gado renders us weak and unable to Change.”
“I know that. But why does he need it? Um …” She looked at Benedict.
He said it for her. “Why does he need gado if he’s got Dya to make potions for him?”
Rule thought a moment, then said grimly, “Quantity.”
Benedict got it immediately. “If Friar’s having Dya make the magical part of that Do Me drug the way Lily was talking about earlier, she probably can’t make a large amount of gado, too. Which brings up some interesting questions. Why does he want a large amount of it?”
“And how much might he have?” Rule looked down at Arjenie. “How much gadolinum has he been able to access?”
“I don’t know.” Her fingers sped over the keyboard again. “But I’ll see if I can find out.”