All it would take for his suppliers to divert the shipment elsewhere was one whiff of danger—and local customers wouldn’t be happy if a delivery didn’t arrive within the expected window.

Not a position he wanted to be in.

Unhappy customers in this business tended to express their displeasure in unpleasant ways.

“No. The timing is a bit short, though.”

“We were alerted to a possible raid on our end and had to move the merchandise quickly. You understand.”

Only too well.

“We’ll be ready.”

“Same arrangements as on the previous trip?”

“Yes.”

“A pleasure doing business, as always.”

The line went dead.

Wolf slowly lowered the phone. Pressed the end button. Eased back into the chair. Tried to apply logic to the situation.

Zeke Martinez was a federal agent. That much was clear. And if he’d been sent to Ivy Hill undercover, the Feds were aware of the school’s connection to the cartel pipeline. Perhaps had even observed deliveries and pickups.

Yet they hadn’t moved in—because they wanted to identify the leadership first.

A goal not yet attained.

So far, so good.

The man Razor had tapped to mentor, however, was proving to be a loose cannon—and Martinez’s agency was going to dig deep to try and identify him . . . along with his connections. If they linked him to Razor, they’d have one of the two key people in the St. Louis distribution organization.

And while Razor had vowed never to betray him, Wolf knew history—and human nature.

Even the most loyal of friends could turn their back on you if they felt threatened.

But what could he do? The delivery was scheduled, and he couldn’t cancel it.

In fact, he ought to alert his Ivy Hill contact of the timetable ASAP. The preparation window was short.

That didn’t mean he was without options on a personal front, however.

He rose and hurried toward the bedroom, where he kept his most important documents in an envelope taped behind the dresser.

It was best to be prepared to move fast.

Just in case.

Not again.

Will groaned as his so-called savior passed on the next delivery and pickup dates.

A mere five days away.

“That’s short notice.”

“On our end too. You’ll want to assign yourself to night duty on those days so you can handle the evening patrol and take care of other details.”

“The schedule’s already done for next week.”

“You’re the boss. You can change it.”

“Not without raising questions.”

“Find an excuse. And here’s an incentive to guarantee there are no glitches—after next week, we won’t require your assistance again.”

Will’s pulse stuttered. Was the nightmare really coming to an end?

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Do what has to be done once more, and you’ll be a free man—as long as you keep our arrangement to yourself.”