Nate’s phone buzzed against his leg, but he ignored it. He closed the folder and set it down, then leaned his butt against Dyson’s desk. He studied Hamilton and Greene. They were holding something back. Their posture, as if they were waiting on a knife’s edge, gave it away.

“Why me? There are four other detectives here, but you asked for me by name. What aren’t you telling me?”

Hamilton crossed her arms. “Do you know much about your wife’s brother?”

Nate straightened, suddenly alert. “Ben? Ben’s been in and out of jail for drug dealing, petty theft, did a few years for assault. Emma hasn’t heard from him in years.”

She nodded. “Mr. Martinez mentioned his name a few times.”

Nate gaped at her. He’d never even met Ben. From what he could tell, Emma was the smart, successful one, while Ben was the total fuckup.

“Ben Hardman might be linked to the head of this gang. Hell, he might even be the head, for all we know. Either way, we need to find out who’s running it before more oxy and fentanyl hit the streets. We want you to be the lead detective of our local task force. You’ll have additional search and seizure powers under your new federal authority, and you’ll liaise with us through occasional visits and calls.”

Nate gave a bewildered snort. “I can’t investigate my wife’s brother! That’s a complete conflict of interest.”

Agent Greene unfolded his arms, smoothing his fingers down a paisley-print silk tie. “We just want you to help us stop more drugs flowing into the area. Yakima’s just a few hours from here, and right now it’s the main drug distribution center in North America. We’ve got drugs being smuggled up in bodies, cars, trucks, children’s toys, paintings laced with narcotics. We have to get a handle on this before more people die.”

“All we need is for you to report back to us what you find when you’re investigating this case,” Hamilton added. “And if your wife has anything to say about where Ben is, all the better.”

“You want me to use my wife to get to her brother?” Nate was incredulous.

“We don’t know for sure Ben’s involved,” Greene said. “We’re just asking you to report back to us what you find. You saw Mr. Martinez’s place. This gang is cutting oxy with fentanyl. Do you have any idea how dangerous that stuff is?”

Dyson rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “I assure you, even out here in Hicksville, we know how dangerous fentanyl is.”

Hamilton and Greene exchanged looks. After a minute, Agent Hamilton dropped a card on the folder and stood. “Think about it and call me in the morning. Time is of the essence here.”