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protecting someone else.”

      “Your informant didn’t know the narc’s name?” asked Connie.

      “No. The narc was recruited by a biker in the club who goes by the name of Pussy Paul. Runs lots of hookers and strip joints. We’re looking for someone new. Someone who connected with Satans Wrath within the last two years.”

      “Speaking of the earlier labs,” said Laura, “we tried to locate the lab rats from the other six labs that were busted. One is an unsolved homicide in Vancouver. He was found tortured and dropped in an alley.”

      “Who would do that to a guy connected with Satans Wrath?” asked Connie.

      “Satans Wrath would,” replied Jack. “Maybe they thought he was an informant, or perhaps got caught with his fingers in the till.”

      “What about the other lab rats?” asked Connie.

      “They’ve disappeared, as well,” replied Laura.

      “Meaning?”

      “Meaning they’re likely running labs someplace else,” said Jack. “Makes you wonder how many other innocent people are breathing in fumes from something they aren’t even aware of.”

      “Then how can you be so damned calm?” asked Connie, as she glared at Jack. “Think about Gabriel’s kid —”

      “You don’t have to remind me about Faith,” said Jack, quietly. “I think about her every day. If I hadn’t busted Varrick, she wouldn’t be sitting in a hospital with her hair falling out.”

      Connie looked at Jack and caught the sombre reflection in his tone. I was wrong to think he is calm — cold and calculating is more like it …

      “Don’t you have any other leads except Varrick?” interjected Laura. “Seems like we are putting all of our eggs in one basket.”

      Connie sighed as she picked up a pen and unconsciously started slapping the edge of the desk. Staring blankly down at the pen, she didn’t look up to reply. “Nope. I’ve tried to get a description from anyone in the neighbourhood about what these other two look like. Nobody had anything of value. Talked to neighbours, delivery people … nothing.”

      “What about the winos?” asked Laura. “If they were hanging around they might have seen people coming and going.”

      “Already tried,” replied Connie. “I identified seventeen and we located all but three so far.”

      “Pretty good, considering most of them are homeless,” noted Laura.

      “Tell me about it,” continued Connie. “I found one who was asked to leave by Father Brown. He said Father Brown was a nice guy and wasn’t mean about it. I think the wino, as much as his soggy, drunken brain would allow, did his best to help. Unfortunately, he couldn’t even remember what day or even what week he had been there. He only knew it was Father Brown in the photo because of the small birthmark on his forehead. He never saw anyone else connected to the house except when a kid came out and threw some garbage in the can.”

      “Probably Noah,” said Jack.

      “You used to have an informant in the Satans Wrath,” said Connie, as she looked up and tossed the pen down. “Can’t you get another one? Or maybe talk to whoever used to help you?”

      “That person repaid the debt owed to me. His loyalties are back with the club. All we would be doing is exposing our interest in Varrick. As far as getting an informant goes, it is rare to get one in the club. Our chances of getting one in The Brotherhood would be good, providing we can find someone connected with Varrick that could help us.”

      “So we keep doing what we’re doing?” asked Connie. “I feel like we’re spinning our wheels and going nowhere.”

      “If the bikers were going to cut Varrick loose, they would have already done so. They plan on using him, but are being unusually cautious.”

      “Hope you’re right.”

      The morning of April 1 arrived and Jack and Laura were on surveillance at Headstones. When Varrick left in the usual black pickup, he started driving aimlessly around some of the side streets in White Rock.

      “He’s doing heat checks!” said Laura.

      “Something’s up,” replied Jack. “See if anyone is around to help us. No use following him around in the residential area, we’ll only get burned. If he doesn’t come out, we can start a search later to see where he’s parked. Let’s set up on 152nd Street. That’s the usual route for him to take if he’s heading out. See if anyone is available to give us a hand. Get them to set up on 148th and 16th Avenue, as well.”

      Laura grabbed the police radio and a marked police unit pretended to work radar while watching for Varrick’s truck.

      Twenty minutes later, Jack and Laura saw Varrick driving northbound on 152nd Street and they followed. Minutes later, a couple more cars from Drug Section answered the call for assistance and joined in on the surveillance. They weren’t needed. Varrick believed he had cleansed himself of any possible police surveillance and drove directly to a small strip mall in Port Coquitlam. He parked his truck and got in the passenger side of a white van. The surveillance team followed the van as it left the mall.

      Jack radioed in the licence plate and the registered owner turned out to be a young woman who did not have a criminal record and lived in a house in Abbotsford.

      “Anyone get a look at the driver?” asked Jack, as he drove several cars behind in traffic.

      “Ten-four,” replied a female voice. “Late twenties, bull-dog neck, bald, and wearing a gold fertility horn around his neck. Thought those things went out in the seventies,” she muttered.

      Jack smiled and said, “Is that you, Tina?”

      “Ten-four.”

      “I owe you one. You just turned a cold investigation into a hot one.”

      “Hey, they don’t call me the Asian Heat for nothing,” replied Tina.

      Jack chuckled. Tina was an undercover operative who was good at her job. She didn’t look like a cop and was someone who could walk right past a target without them getting suspicious.

      “He sounds like the one in Gabriel’s basement who called himself John,” said Laura.

      Jack nodded and smiled with satisfaction. “Get the camera ready.”

      The van was followed to a small, older-style home and Jack got his first glimpse of the driver as both men walked up to the front door.

      “Know him?” asked Laura.

      Jack shook his head and said, “He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him yet.”

      An elderly woman answered the door and the van driver introduced her to Varrick. She handed a key to the driver and closed the door. Both men walked around to the rear of the house.

      “Another basement suite,” noted Laura.

      “There’s an alley in the back … limited parking, want us to risk it?” radioed Tina.

      “Negative,” replied Jack. “Don’t want to heat them up. Everyone keep their distance. There is a third guy that we still need to identify so keep your heads up.”

      Seconds later, both targets returned to the van while Laura discreetly stood between two houses across the street and snapped pictures. The van returned to the strip mall and Varrick went back to his truck.

      The surveillance team followed the van to an apartment building where it pulled into a secure underground parking lot. It was not known which suite he went to and there were no names posted on the intercom system at the front door.

      Later that afternoon, Jack called the surveillance off and returned to their office. Laura sent Connie the photos she had taken while Jack pulled out his laptop

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