Missing Ch. 41-50

"It would be easier if my back got hurt doing something more exciting than putting my paddleboard on the rack," I said. "I hate getting older."

"You look good," he replied smoothly. "Care for lunch today?"

"I came to say goodbye," I told him. "I'm being sent downtown for the rest of the week."

"That's... unfortunate. I was hoping to get a spar or two in this week."

I just shook my head. "I'm on desk duty and doing rehab for two more weeks. I won't be in the dojo until I finish with my physical therapy appointments."

I could see his disappointment. I'm sure he thought maybe we could be more than workout buddies, not understanding why he'd never be more than a fling. I'd warned him I couldn't give him more than friendship, but guys don't want to hear that. "I'm glad I met you, Thomas. If you're ever in Maine, look me up."

"The same for you, Bonnie. Good luck."

I felt like I was making a mistake as I walked away, but I kept going. I had my desk cleaned out and was heading downtown thirty minutes later.

Ch. 46

Detective Sergeant Bonnie (McDonald) Woods' POV

Drug Enforcement Agency- Minneapolis Field Office

Monday, March 9^th, 2020

I checked in at the reception desk, showing my identification to the security officer. The FBI called ahead, and they had a visitor badge waiting by the time my contact showed up. "Bonnie McDonald," I said as the thirty-ish Asian-American woman, her DEA badge on her belt, walked out to get me.

"Keiko Kintani. Nice to finally meet you!" She was about five-foot-nothing and maybe a hundred pounds after a big meal. "Come on back to our area. The others want to meet you."

"Others?" I followed her through the doors into the typical government-office complex. Supervisors and senior agent offices along the outside walls, managers in the corner, and your seniority and unit assignment reflected in your proximity to a view. Her group was next to the computer room, inside a dedicated space with a big lock on the door that said, "INTELLIGENCE DIVISION."

"My team. We've been working on your idea for two weeks already, and it's opened some eyes." She typed in the code and the door unlocked. There were four desks on the right side of a conference table and multiple large monitors covering all the wall spaces. The room lighting was dim to cut down glare on the computer screens in front of them. "Guys? Meet Detective Sergeant Bonnie Woods, Penobscot County Sheriff's Department in Maine."

The other three people stood up and introduced themselves. Christopher Torken, Amanda Byrnes, and Erica Toda were similar to Keiko, recruited for intelligence and computer skills and not as field agents. That was fine; the team needed both. "I'm sorry for your loss," Amanda said as we finished introductions.

"Thank you," I said. "I haven't found the killers yet, but I won't ever give up."

"We won't either," Christopher replied. "They killed one of ours as well."

"Let's bring up the presentation," Keiko said as we sat at the conference table with Erica running the computer. The screen on the wall had to be a hundred inches of high-definition excellence. Leo would be jealous. "Your idea was brilliant. We'd always assumed drugs smuggling, so we never paid much attention to the cooks' chemical composition as a 'fingerprint.'"

"To limit the data to the most relevant, we've only gone back one month," Amanda added. "We also limited the data plotted to the first appearance each week. Instead, the dot size represents the number of busts of that run of meth. The simple tests give us an idea of purity; we've divided it into zones every five percent and color-coded it with that."

I looked at the screen; the data was all over the place. "Our cook was 87% pure. Did you find a match?"

Amanda punched a few buttons, and most of the dots disappeared, leaving only purple ones reflecting an 85-89% purity. They were all in cities from southern California to Texas and as far north as Denver. "We did, but this product is all smuggled in from a major Mexican lab. It's been a struggle for us to shut down the routes, and the hits go back months."

It wasn't from a lab in the Maine woods, not with that amount of product. "So we found nothing?"

"I wouldn't say that," Christopher said. "Although we didn't find the guy we wanted, it gives us information about other labs and smuggling routes are. The purity data helps us separate the backyard lab cooks from the professional product. We can spot when the shipments arrive and from where."

We spent the next hour going through the data and what they had learned about the smuggling routes. It was good stuff, even if it didn't tell me where the cook was now. I looked over the data from the Lower 48 states when it hit me. "Is all your data from the United States?"

"Yeah," Christopher said. "Oh, Canada!"

"There are hundreds of miles of unguarded riverbank between Maine and Quebec," I said. "One of my theories is he headed to Canada to avoid the manhunt."

"And if he did, he might set up shop there!"

"Exactly. The Cartels want to make their money, so the cook can't hide forever. The DEA in Maine thinks the precursor chemicals might be coming in from China via the ports along the St. Lawrence Seaway," I said. "How tough would it be to have a freighter dump some barrels off the back for a waiting boat to pick up? They do that in Mexico all the time."

Erica was thinking. "We'll need to kick this upstairs. Our liaison officers should be able to get that from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and Canadian Border Patrol Agencies." DEA had people at the American Embassy in Ottawa, plus the American Consulate in Vancouver.

"If they aren't forthcoming, tell them we are only interested in purities above seventy percent," I added. "See if they can do mass spectrography of the most promising samples to cross-check against the product we found in Maine."

Thursday, March 12^th

I entered the DEA offices on Washington Avenue for the last time just before eight o'clock. I had a flight to Boston at eight tonight, and I'd convinced Leo it didn't make sense to drive down to Miesville after work and then turn around to go back to the airport. Instead, I asked Leo to bring some people downtown for dinner. They could drop me off and take my borrowed car with them.

I'd ridden the elevator up with Erica. We'd had our first hit yesterday, with a Quebec City bust of some 87% pure meth. "We should get lab results this morning," Erica said with a smile as she opened the Intelligence Division door for me.

"It's a match!" Keiko waved the printout of the data she'd just received from our DEA representatives in Ottawa. "Not only that, but they got three more hits overnight. One more in Quebec City, and two in Montreal!"

"He's in Canada," I said as I let my breath out.

"Yep. The DEA office in Maine is turning over everything they have to Canadian authorities."

"Dammit." I sat down heavily in the chair.

"This is GOOD news," Erica said. "Why do you look like someone just ran over your cat?"

"I wanted to be there when we catch this fucker," I said. "There's no chance of that if he's in another country."

"Canada will extradite the people if they catch them. They face two first-degree murder charges, including one of a Federal Agent, during an escape. The Felony Murder Rule applies to the cook, too." The Felony Murder Rule says that because the murders took place during a separate felony, the escape attempt, anyone involved can be charged with First Degree Murder. "They could face the death penalty."

"Not in Maine; Capital Punishment has been abolished there since 1887," I replied. "And Canada won't extradite them if the death penalty is on the table. The best we can hope for now is life without parole."

Christopher patted me on the shoulder. "I just want to catch these bastards before they hurt anyone else," he said. "This is a good thing. Your idea tells us he's now in Quebec, probably in the woods near Quebec City. It's more than we had last week."

"Yeah," I said. "Good news." We spent the rest of the morning plotting the new information and updating our Northeast DEA offices. Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, and New York all shared a border with the region of Canada where our cook was operating. Although it wasn't likely they'd smuggle large quantities into the United States, individuals might bring it over.

I had a different idea. On my lunch hour, I took a walk in the forty-degree weather along the Mississippi River walking trail and called Luna Adrienne. I passed everything I knew about the case to her since I'd be busy in New Hampshire. "I want these people to face our justice," I said. "I know our friends in Canada will hold them for me."

"I'll inform the Council."

I growled a little, still pissed at any mention of their names. "What will those idiots do?"

"They better send their best people up there," my Luna said.

"Are they better than the ones I met in Augusta?" Council Enforcers were on my shit list for how they'd treated me.

"I'll make sure Clyde Lassiter is on the case. He led the effort earlier, and he's a good one."

"Fine." I watched the river flowing by. "We still on for tonight?"

"Yep. Me and Leo, Susan and her three, Mike and Anita, Brent, Olivia, and Vicki. You sure you want to take that big a group to dinner at a fancy place like that?"

It would be eight adults and four kids. "Sure. They'll be too busy eating to misbehave." I was looking forward to their faces when they walked in. I said goodbye, then picked up a sandwich before heading back to the office.

I thanked everyone before leaving at five. I drove a few blocks west before heading south on Hennepin Avenue to the place I'd picked for my thank-you dinner. I parked at the Marriott Hotel, then went to street level. My group was waiting for me at Fogo de Chao Brazilian Steakhouse, and one girl could barely contain herself. "MEAT SWORDS," Sharkbait yelled as she pointed at the entrance and hugged my leg.

"Not until we get our table," I said as I rubbed her hair. I'd miss her and Amy the most; they'd crawled into bed with me every night since I'd returned. Their wolves had coaxed mine out of her hiding place, even getting me to lead them on a few runs. Their love had done more for me than my Alphas could, and I know how bad they felt about what I'd experienced.

"This place is sixty bucks a person," Olivia whispered. "It's too much!"

"It's my treat, and I don't mind after everything your Pack has done for me," I said. "Did you notice that six and under are FREE? Do you know what that means?"

She giggled. "They haven't had Sharkbait here yet."

"It will be four and under by Monday," Leo said with a grin.

I insisted on sitting between Amy and Sharkbait as we got to our big table. Fogo was Carnivore Heaven. Nobody filled up at the salad bar since that is what FOOD eats. Instead, they displayed their coasters green side up, indicating they wanted the parade of meat swords to stop by them. Waiters walked around and would carve you a piece if you wanted. There were fourteen different fire-roasted meat cuts to choose from, plus sides.

The individual servers didn't notice the mass quantities consumed, but the waitress watched us in disbelief. I swear she thought we were shoving meat into a bag in our purses! Nope, we're trained professionals. We ate until we had meat babies.

I left eight hundred-dollar bills to cover the dinner and drinks. I excused myself to use the restroom before leaving. I'd never been pregnant, but I felt like it. My bladder didn't have any room to expand!

You could have bounced a quarter on our bellies by the time we waddled out of there. It felt like when we'd gorge ourselves on a fresh deer kill in wolf form, then shift back with twenty pounds of meat in our bellies. Who knows, maybe it was!

They'd parked next to me, and tears flowed as we said our goodbyes. "I'll miss you," I said as I knelt and hugged the two girls close.

Sharkbait kissed my cheek and hugged me back. "Can you see SHARKS with us next time? Please!"

"Next time I'm here," I promised. It might never happen, especially if I found Sean's killers soon. I said goodbye to the Betas and waved as they drove off. It was just me and my Alphas now. "Airport?"

"Let's go," Leo said. I sat in the back with my bag as we drove. "It wasn't your fault," I said when the silence got too long. "I made my choices, and I accepted the cost."

"It SHOULD NEVER HAVE COME TO THAT," Adrienne raged. "Why couldn't they wait until after the trial to deal with your punishment? I'm so fucking PISSED at Chairman Sanders even now. I felt like crawling through the phone lines and wringing his neck when I talked to the Council today."

"They did what they had to do. In a twisted way, they were protecting us. They didn't want you ordering the flogging I deserved."

"The Council has problems," Leo said as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. "It was their idea to fake my death. Keeping that from my Pack members, though well-intentioned, had significant consequences. They could have granted mercy, and they didn't."

"It's over now. Staying angry won't help anyone, especially the two of you. I can go back to Baxter, but you have to deal with them," I said. I needed to change the subject. "Could you believe Sharkbait's belly? I was waiting for the Oompa-Loompas to roll her out of there like Violet Beauregard."

"She's amazing," Leo said with pride. "The Kobiyashi of Kindergarteners."

"I'll bring her to Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest when she's older," I promised. "She'll be famous."

I was still laughing about the idea when I boarded the plane.

Ch. 47

Bonnie Woods' POV

Logan Airport, Boston, MA

Friday, March 13, 2020

I walked out of the still-crowded terminal just after one in the morning. I was still sleepy from the big dinner, and my wolf didn't like the smells of the airport. I heard a 'woof' to my left and turned to see a familiar wolf's head sticking out of the rear passenger window of a white SUV. I could see the light bar and spotlight hidden, but I recognized it as one of our unmarked Ford Police Interceptors. Since I'd changed my Pack affiliation to Miesville while guarding Luna Adrienne, I didn't have a Pack link with the warrior pair from Baxter. Christina Cotter was in wolf form with her duty vest, while Deputy Gabe Cotter was in full uniform.

I walked back to where Gabe stopped by the sidewalk. "How are you doing, girl?" I scratched her ears before placing my suitcase on the floor behind the passenger seat.

"Welcome home, Bonnie," Gabe said as I slid into the passenger seat and buckled up. "We were horrified to hear what happened to you. Anything you need, you let us know." Christina laid her chin on my shoulder, adding her support as a wolf.

"It's over now," I replied. "I didn't expect you two for my ride-along."

"Well, Sheriff Ty was notified of the upcoming raid and volunteered the services of our Police Dog for support. You needed a ride, so here we are."

"I appreciate not having to rent a car and drive up there. I took the Miesville Pack leadership to Fogo de Chao as a thank-you dinner. I slept the whole flight, and I'm still sleepy."

Christina turned her head and whined, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. Gabe laughed. "She's chastising me for not taking her there while visiting Boston."

"They don't allow police dogs," I said as I scratched her ear. "It's not the same in Boston since Durgin Park closed down." The Fanueil Hall restaurant, famous for its prime rib and sassy waitresses, had closed last year after two centuries. It had been my favorite place in Boston and where Sean took me for several mating anniversaries. "I'm still stuffed. Nothing is open this late anyway."

"She's been fed well. Christina is just mad because the Alpha is making her stay in wolf form. He doesn't want any questions, and he knows the DEA is unlikely to turn down a police dog."

"At least we can get some sleep soon. I got a text before leaving Minneapolis from Manuel Rijos, the Supervisory Agent-In-Charge of the Manchester DEA office. They got the arrest warrant and the seizure warrants. We don't need to be at their office until one. The raid will be around midnight."

"Catch them when they are drunk and drowning in pussy?"

"Exactly. Since it's still too cold to ride much, the Clubs spend a lot of time partying. Midnight is late enough for everyone to arrive, yet too early for them to be heading home. We should be able to get almost all of them in one raid."

We crossed the border into the free state of New Hampshire, stopping for the night at the Park View Inn. The motel was clean and allowed pets. It was within forty minutes of Manchester while keeping us out of sight of the bikers. Gabe had one room reserved; he went out to get snacks while Christina and I got ready for bed.

It was four in the morning before we fell asleep.

I went wolf for the night, curling up next to Christina on one side of the king-sized bed. It wasn't a great sleep. My wolf was hyper-vigilant, waking with every car, voice, or footstep outside our door. She didn't like being so close to the people who had kidnapped and tried to kill her.

Checkout was at eleven, and we'd slept until ten-thirty. Gabe came out of the bathroom first. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Pancakes. Lots of pancakes," I said.

"And bacon," Christina added.

"I saw a sign for a Cracker Barrel not too far from here. That work?"

"Hell, yeah," I said. "I changed my mind. Biscuits and gravy, with bacon and cheese-covered scrambled eggs."

"We'll have to bring it out to you in the car since they don't allow dogs in there."

"What?"

He looked at his mate, then back to me. "We can't risk anyone recognizing you, so you get the police dog vest. Christina gets to eat with me."

I shifted into my wolf, and Christina adjusted the police dog harness to fit my lankier build. Christina dressed in the activewear she'd brought along, and Gabe was back in uniform. If nobody noticed the police dog's fur was now red, we'd be fine.

I stayed in the back with the windows down, enjoying the feel of the sun on my fur. Gabe brought my food out in a Styrofoam container. I didn't mind; I scarfed it down in minutes.

I was licking the gravy off the bottom when my phone dinged. I looked at it, sitting on the center console, and saw it was from SAIC Rijos. It had an address, followed by "GET THERE ASAP."

I didn't want to shift in a parking lot with people and cameras around, so I did the next best thing. I started to bark. I barked loudly, repeatedly, and the kind of bark that expressed alarm or emergency.

It only took a few minutes for Gabe and Christina to come out. I cursed my inability to link them as I motioned with my snout to get going. As soon as we were on the road, Christina took off the harness, then tossed a blanket over me. I shifted, sat up, and grabbed my phone. "I don't know what is going on, but the DEA wants me there now."

"I'll drive while you dress," Gabe said. "Christina, you get to play doggie again."

Thirty minutes later, Gabe parked by the side of a dirt road in a rural neighborhood of acre-sized lots. There must have been thirty vehicles there. I saw County Sheriff, State Police, FBI, DEA, and the Coroner. The press set up just outside the police tape, their cameras hoping to see the bodies coming out. I'd been at enough crime scenes to recognize a murder.

I didn't want to walk past the press when I was trying to keep my presence here quiet. Instead, I sent a text to SAIC Rijos. "I'm outside the crime scene tape. What about the press?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Rijos sent back. "Get in here."