Chapters (57)
- Cover
- Dedication
- PROLOGUE
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- CHAPTER 37
- CHAPTER 38
- CHAPTER 39
- CHAPTER 40
- CHAPTER 41
- CHAPTER 42
- CHAPTER 43
- CHAPTER 44
- CHAPTER 45
- CHAPTER 46
- CHAPTER 47
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Reader’s Guide
- INTRODUCTION
- TOPICS & QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
- ENHANCE YOUR BOOK CLUB
- More from the Author
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Now that there’d been four more oxy overdoses in the last two days, it had become a priority to find out why there’d been such an increase on the streets, who was distributing it, and how fentanyl had gotten introduced into the mix. Nate had to deliver an update on Santiago Martinez’s murder and how it fit into the wider drug distribution in the area. If only he had something new to tell her.
Nate unwrapped his eighth Bit-O-Honey. He savored the honey-flavored taffy, enjoying the tug and pull on his teeth. He let it dissolve in his mouth before slugging it down with a mouthful of lukewarm coffee. Ahhh, sugar and coffee. The breakfast of champions.
When Nate was a kid, his dad used to keep a bag of Bit-O-Honey in his police car, sneaking them to Nate whenever he’d come on a ride-along. He felt horrible that he hadn’t kept his recent promise to his mom to visit. He didn’t want to tell her how difficult he found it.
His dad had been a good man, a larger-than-life father and husband, an honorable and noble cop. Once Nate remembered seeing Matt coming out of a motel parking lot in Seattle. Matt had told him he was checking on a woman and a little girl after a domestic. Nate had felt proud that his dad went the extra mile for victims. That he cared.
Seeing him the way he was now, a shriveled ghost of his former self, sickened Nate. Self-loathing howled inside his head.
You’re a bad person.
You’re cowardly. Weak.
Nobody can trust you.
Nate looked at his bloodied fingernails and longed for the familiar sharp thorn of the toothpick. The phone on his desk rang.
“Detective Sweeney, this is Dr. Kathi Morris at Cascade Regional.”
The pathologist. “Yes, hi, Dr. Morris.”
“I received the tox screen back from Violeta Williams. I’ve emailed you the results, but thought I’d give you a call as well. The cause of death was ruled combined toxic effects of fentanyl and cocaine. The chemical structure of this particular type of fentanyl is quite unique, however. The precursor chemical is something called NPP, N-phenethyl-4-piperidinone, but there’s also a small amount of MDMA mixed in.”
Nate flipped through the files on his desk and pulled out the autopsy report he’d received on Santiago Martinez a few days back. He shuffled to the tox screen page, and there it was.
Martinez’s cause of death: toxic effects of fentanyl. The chemical structure included N-phenethyl-4-piperidinone and MDMA.
Santiago Martinez and Violeta Williams had been killed by the same chemical structure.