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to know what is going on.”

      “Exactly.”

      “Little things, like hiding corpses and that.”

      Jack smiled. “Sounds like you’re a natural for this work.”

      Laura massaged her forehead with her hand and then looked across the room at the waitress and yelled, “Leisa! Another round, please!”

      It was late Monday night in Mexico when the RCMP liaison officer met with the police officer and showed him pictures of Jack and Natasha. Yes, he was positive it was them. There was absolutely no doubt.

      Communications in Third World countries are not up to the standards of other places on the planet, but the LO’s report would still arrive on Isaac’s desk before noon tomorrow.

      chapter twenty-nine

      Early Tuesday morning, Jack embraced Natasha warmly before reluctantly pulling away.

      “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “Everything will be okay.”

      Natasha used the cuff of her sleeve to wipe away her tears. “I’m scared,” she said.

      “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything. If you’re questioned, remember what happened.”

      “But details,” she said, “what if I’m asked about little things?”

      Jack faked a smile and said, “That’s where the tequila comes in. How can they expect you to remember anything about our honeymoon? Other than that I was the best lay you ever had!”

      Natasha smiled in spite of her fears. “You’re such a turkey!”

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      Jack arrived at work and listened to his voice mail. Louie had a doctor’s appointment and would not be in until later. He had barely put the phone down when he was approached by Staff Sergeant Legg from the Anti-Corruption Unit.

      “Come with me,” said Legg.

      “Why?” asked Jack. “I haven’t had my coffee yet.”

      “My instructions come from Isaac. Forget having coffee!”

      Jack was taken to an interrogation room consisting of a small table pressed against a wall and three chairs seated in a semicircle around the front of the table. Randy Otto was already in the room.

      “Bosses from I-HIT and Anti-Corruption,” said Jack. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

      “Take a seat,” said Randy.

      Jack grabbed a chair and swung it around, then sat facing over the back of the chair. Randy and Legg exchanged glances, then sat down facing him.

      “I take it you want me to assist you with something important?”

      “Drop the act,” said Legg. “You know why you’re here!”

      “Actually, I don’t,” replied Jack. “I did, however, spot one of your cars following my wife Saturday afternoon. Would you care to explain? Is she a Russian agent?”

      “Jack, this isn’t a game,” said Randy. “It’s serious. Isaac has taken a personal interest. Do yourself a favour — drop the comedy act.”

      “Sorry, Randy. Bad habit. I use humour to alleviate stress.”

      “Have you been meeting Damien?” asked Legg.

      “You know I have. He was with me in the park on Saturday when you followed Natasha.”

      Legg looked frustrated and said, “Just for the record. I wanted you to say it.”

      “Sorry. Yes is the answer.”

      “Why?” continued Legg.

      “It’s highly confidential.”

      “Believe me,” said Randy, “Isaac has given us full authority to hear about anything you’re involved in.”

      Jack nodded, looking pensive as he reflected upon this information. Then he answered, “I’m trying to turn him into an informant.”

      “Yeah, right,” said Legg sarcastically. “Why was your wife meeting him?”

      “She was picking something up from him. In the cooler he handed her.”

      “Which was?” asked Legg.

      “He had been to her clinic a few days ago. He was told to come back and give her some sort of specimen. When he mentioned that he knew me, Natasha told me about it. I didn’t like the idea of him meeting my wife alone. I made him hand the specimen over to her when I was around.”

      “What kind of specimen?”

      “You would have to ask my wife about that. She wouldn’t tell me. Doctor-client privilege was all she would say.”

      “You were seen looking in the cooler,” said Legg.

      Jack sighed, then said, “You’re right. I did.” He paused and said, “I know I’m in trouble.”

      Legg hid his satisfaction. He’s folding already.

      “Please don’t tell my wife,” continued Jack. “I was just curious. I think it was a stool sample, but I’m not sure. She’ll be mad as hell if she thinks I was snooping into her business.”

      Randy let out a soft chuckle, bringing him a glare from Legg.

      “I used the park as an excuse to talk to him while waiting for Natasha. It was a good opportunity to build trust and get him to confide in me.”

      “Bullshit!” said Legg. “You don’t turn the top guy of Satans Wrath! That’s who you want to nail! You turn informants to catch him!”

      Jack looked surprised, then said, “Oh! Is that how it’s supposed to work?” He pointed his finger at Legg and said, “Perhaps you would think that. Not coming from an intelligent background ... oops, Freudian slip ... I mean from an Intelligence background.” Jack paused when Randy frowned, then said, “Sorry. I do understand how you might think that.”

      “I think that because it’s true!” said Legg, harshly.

      “If it’s true, then why was I meeting with him?”

      “You’re working for him!”

      “Working for him?” said Jack, as his eyes widened. “I’m shocked that you would jump to that conclusion. Absolutely aghast! Mortified to think that you would accuse me of that! There is no way that —”

      Legg pounded his fist on the table and said, “Think I haven’t seen this routine before? Act surprised, show concern, deny, deny, deny!”

      Jack leaned back and slowly shook his head while staring down at the floor.

      “Think about it, Jack,” said Randy, “do you really expect us to believe that you could get the national president of Satans Wrath to turn on his own club?”

      “His own club? Damien would never do that!” said Jack.

      “Precisely!” said Legg.

      “It’s the Indos he’s concerned about,” said Jack. “I was suggesting to him that it’s in our mutual interest for the police to arrest them.”

      “That’s enough,” said Legg. “I tried to be good to you. Give you a chance to come clean. A chance to use your head and make yourself look a little better. Maybe even show some remorse. Hell, who knows? A murder beef could even be dropped down to manslaughter if you played your cards right.”

      “Murder? What on earth are you talking about?”

      “We’ve got a surprise for you,” retorted Legg. “Mexico! You’ve

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