“How can that be,” Gonzo asked, “when people know it’s so lethal?”

“Believe it or not,” Merrick said, “that’s part of the attraction. People describe the total brain-numbing high of fentanyl as far superior to the quick high they get from coke or heroin, and the dealers brag about how many people their drugs have killed. It’s like a badge of honor in their world.”

“What the fuck?” Sam asked. “How does that make sense when they’re killing their own customers?”

“There’re plenty of others,” Merrick said. “It makes no sense to people who aren’t addicted to it, but people describe the brain fog that comes with fentanyl as highly addictive. There’s a false sense of security for addicts, too, because of the prevalence of Narcan, which can quickly reverse the effects of the drug. Our officers have brought the same people back from the brink three or four times with Narcan. Some of them are furious after we give them Narcan because it kills their high.”

“That’s crazy,” Matt O’Brien said.

“It is,” Merrick agreed. “The kicker is that the street form of fentanyl has made it harder for people who really need it—like cancer patients in hospice—to get it. Doctors are very reluctant to prescribe it for its intended purpose.”

“We’re finding pills with a distinctive S20 stamp on them,” Sam said.

Merrick nodded. “The street pills have become much more sophisticated with markings like the ones you describe that make them look like they came from a pharmacy. That provides a false sense of security for people buying them on the street.”

“This has been very helpful, Sergeant,” Sam said. “And horrifying.”

“I hear you. It’s the most lethal street drug I’ve seen in my career and getting worse all the time.”

“Thank you for the info, Sergeant,” Malone said. To Sam, he asked, “What’s our plan for tonight?”

“I’m waiting to hear back from the owner about whether he was able to convince Lawton to come in for dinner,” Sam said.

“How long are we waiting?” Cooper asked, checking his watch.

“Do you have something more important to do, Lieutenant?” Malone asked, sounding annoyed.

“In fact, I do. It’s my twentieth wedding anniversary, and I’m supposed to be taking my wife to dinner at eight. I intentionally made it later so it wouldn’t interfere with work.”

“You should go do that,” Sam said. “Lawton knows you and all your people. My team is new. We can handle this.”

Cooper glanced at Malone.

“Go ahead,” Malone said.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be mad.”

“It’s fine,” Malone said.

“Thank you so much. Both of you. You’re saving my ass with my wife.”

“We do what we can for the people,” Sam said as Cooper beat feet out of the conference room.

“I swear to God,” Malone said, sighing as he took a seat. “No one wants to work anymore.”

“I don’t think that’s true, sir,” Sam said. “It’s just that people are trying to do a better job of balancing their work with the rest of their lives.”