“You can do that . . . but we’ll be asking the same questions. And whether you choose to cooperate or not, we’ll find the answers in the end. It would behoove you to work with us.”

Sweat beaded on the man’s brow. “The Cate Sheppard incident . . . that was my fault. Indirectly.”

“Explain.”

“I mentioned to my contact that I’d seen a student wandering around near the barn. That she walked every day. They asked for her photo. Said they’d give me an excuse to restrict access to the woods.”

Zeke clenched his teeth. “You had to know what they were going to do.”

“No. Not exactly. But I . . . I was worried sick.”

“Yet you provided the photo.”

“Yes.”

“And Cate Sheppard was attacked.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. So sorry for everything.” The man’s voice broke. “I just wanted Suz to come back. I never meant to get involved in anything like this.”

“How did you get Cate’s photo to these people?”

“I texted it.”

“You have a phone number?”

“Yes. I can give it to you.” He pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and recited it.

Zeke jotted down the digits.

They’d check it out, but the number likely wouldn’t lead anywhere. Most people involved in the drug trade relied on untraceable burner phones.

“Do you have names for any of the people involved in what’s going on here?”

“No—but my contact did tell me during our last conversation that they wouldn’t be calling me again.”

In other words, they were changing the delivery/pickup location after this because they knew the Feds were on their tail.

Meaning the DEA had to move this week, round up the players they had.

Jones in particular.

But the ideal scenario would be to catch the man in an illegal act, hold the threat of prison over his head while they questioned him. That was far more effective in getting criminals to rat on their friends.

They’d have to go with what they had, though.

“Okay.” Zeke wrote his cell number on a slip of paper and held it out. “If you think of any more details, let me know.”

The man took the paper. “So . . . what happens next?”

“Continue business as usual until the delivery and pickup are finished. Follow the instructions you were given. We’ll talk later in the week. And do yourself a favor—keep this conversation confidential. If there are any leaks . . . or any changes in plans . . . we’ll know who to blame.”

“I won’t say anything.” Will rose, his face a study in misery. “For the record, if I had it all to do again, I’d find another way to deal with my debts.”

If the guy was hoping for sympathy, he’d come to the wrong place.

“That doesn’t bring Stephanie or her boyfriend back. Or heal Cate Sheppard.”