Thirst for Justice by David R. Boyd

Author:David R. Boyd
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ECW Press
Published: 2020-10-27T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Abby called Cassie immediately.

“Abby, I’m at the reservoir—what’s up?”

“Another break!” Abby relayed the details of his conversation with the anonymous caller, trying not to let his excitement overwhelm him. After all, the 1-800 tip line had received hundreds of calls. A handful of publicity-seeking wackos had even confessed.

“He sounds legitimate,” Cassie responded. “I’ll get a lift back to the office right away. Great job, Abby.” The only solid information they’d received from the tip line was from the two old fishermen who’d seen a cyclist at the reservoir. Their description matched this anonymous caller’s story. But if the informant was a creep, or if he was involved in the poisoning, Cassie didn’t want to meet him alone. She called Mitch Friedland, the EPA’s regional head for the Pacific Northwest.

“Friedland here. What’s up?”

“Can you go to the Starbucks at 2nd and Seneca for me?”

“You need caffeine so badly that you’re asking me to be your coffeewallah? You should join Narcotics Anonymous.”

“Shut up, Mitch. We might have caught a big break. Abby just talked to a guy claiming to know at least one of the perps and the location of some key physical evidence.”

“Such as?”

“Topographical map, a mountain bike, and a motive. He wants to meet me at that Starbucks at one. I need you to go there now and hang out, backing me up in case things go off the rails.”

“I’m your backup? I’m wearing penny loafers, have string bean arms, and only run to catch the bus. You want any uniforms? Suits? Men with guns? Muscle?”

“No. He wants to meet me alone, and I don’t want to take the risk of scaring him off.”

“Then I’m perfect.”

“I’m sending Abby ahead of me as well.”

“Great. A schleppy Jew and a Somalian refugee. Quite an intimidating posse you’ve got.”

“Abby survived the anarchy on the streets of Mogadishu while he was growing up. Should be able to keep a source in a Seattle coffee shop under control if things turn ugly.”

Friedland grunted his grudging agreement.

“Text me if you see anything suspicious,” Cassie said. “I’ll be there soon. And don’t let on that you know me. I’m supposed to be alone.”

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