Diversion 1 - Diversion (5 page)

On the steps of a Starbucks outside of Orlando, Florida, Lucky fell in love. It wasnt a gradual thing, slowly building over time. Instead, it slammed into him like a two-twenty current, stealing all conscious thought. He stopped mid-sentence, hypnotized by the sight before him.

The day being hot and their duty done, the three men had abandoned their suit jackets and ties, loosening their collars. The lack of coat afforded Lucky a grand view at what had to be generous handfuls of firm butt, tucked into a pair of suit pants. Bo stopped walking to open the door, and Lucky nearly slammed into him, too busy appreciating the mans noteworthy backside to watch where he was going.

I have to hit that. At least once. If Ive ever done anything right in my life, I hope my reward is two hours alone with rookie boy.
Gazing at the pair of firm globes again, he amended,
Better make it three.

“You were saying?” Wa lter and Bo turned inquisitive expressions his way.
“Oh, forget it.” Lucky waved his hand, brushing away the remnants of thoughts long gone. Hed earned a reputation for always speaking his mind, but didnt consider it wise to enlighten either of these men about what currently crawled around his brain, seeking an exit. Some things they were better off not knowing.
The three approached the counter, and his inner coffee purist turned up its nose at Walters choice of caramel macchiato with soy milk. Sure, Lucky noticed frou-frou drinks on the menu, but had never been curious enough to try anything he needed a running start to pronounce. As usual, he received a “youre joking, right?” scowl from the nose-pierced kid behind the counter when he ordered, “Black coffee with enough sugar to choke a horse.” Over the years, hed occasionally run across a smartass who tried to be funny, claiming they didnt offer plain coffee.
But Walters choice paled in comparison with Bos. “Decaf green tea, please. No, I brought myown sweetener, thanks.” He waved a little green pack under the clerks nose. “I use stevia.”
“Shall we take these outside?” Walter asked once theyd received their drinks. “I spotted an empty table out front.”
Lucky made it a point to beat the other two men to the round metal table, grabbing the seat facing the parking lot. Sitting with his back to the world gave him the willies. Hed spent too much of his life glancing over his shoulder. Better to see whatever came at him.
Walter took the chair to his left, Bo pulling out the one to his right. “Crap, what a mess,” Bo huffed, bending to wipe crumbs away from the chair seat. That gloriously round and firm ass stared Lucky in the face, daring him to get better acquainted. Damn, what an ass!
Baby got back! If you say youre not gay Id be happy to help you test the theory.
Walter cleared his throat. “At least pretend youve been taught how to behave in public.”
“What?” Bo asked, taking his seat and facing Lucky and Walter, wearing a slightly bemused expression.
“Oh nothing,” Lucky replied. “Im simply reminding Walter that I shouldnt be let out of my cage too often.” He smiled sweeter than his four-sugared coffee.
Bos gaze volleyed back and forth between Lucky and Walter, but he didnt speak. Smart man. The muscle jumping in his cheek said he might be biting his tongue, though.
Walter, not one to dawdle or drag matters out, laid the cards on the table. “Nicely done this weekend, Lucky. As usual you went over the top with the stealth and theatrics, but Bo wasnt able to track you.”
Not surprising. No wonder Walter had ordered Lucky to go all out. He reckoned it said a lot about his skills when his boss used him for a training exercise. “Whod you put him with?”
“Keith.”
Partnering Newbie with an imbecile like Keith reduced the likelihood of skill alone rendering Lucky untraceable. “The jerk off cant tell his ass from a hole in the ground. Youd have done better to saddle the kid with…I mean, assign him to someone else. Maybe Art.”
Walter sniffed, perhaps at Lucky for taking a potshot at a member of “the team” he took such pride in. Teams were for sports. Lucky worked alone.
“Actually, his methods were pretty thorough.” Bo blew into his cup at a light green liquid; a fresh-mown hay odor drifted across the table, causing Lucky to wrinkle his nose. Real men drank coffee—black.
“Uh-huh, and exactly how much experience do you have to compare it with?” Lucky gleefully rubbed in Bos wet-behind-theears-job-wise status.
“You have to excuse Mr. Lucklighter,” Walter interjected. “Hes not known for playing well with others.”
“Only because others dont play well with me. Its not my fault if half the
team
thinks Im an ungrateful wretch who should wake up every morning kissing your boots and making up for past sins.” Lucky shifted in his seat, directing his muttered comment to Bo. “Keith believes I should be ashamed of my mistakes. Why should I? Especially when Bossman here,” he hiked a thumb at Walter, “uses my
mistakes
to full advantage.”
“Now, Lucky.” Walter rolled his eyes, heaving out a dramatic sigh. “Your teammates have your best interests at heart. If you made more of an effort to get along with them, you might discover theyre pretty decent people.”
Lucky snorted, Walter ignored him. “Bo graduated top of his class from Virginia College School of Pharmacy, and he completed his first assignment in record time.” Walter gave his best “Proud Papa” impersonation.
Luckys hackles rose. A guy on the job for less than two months already had Walter eating out of his hand? “Well, tell me about it, since Ive been out of the loop this past month, babysitting idiots who deserve the reaming theyre gonna get.”
Another fucking month of my life gone.

Bo sat his cup on the table, the better to have both hands free to gloat with. “Nothing much to tell. In fact, I found the whole exercise pretty unremarkable.” Did he have to wave his hands around when he talked?

“You look obvious as hell when you do that.” Lucky nodded toward Bos airborne fingers.
Bos hand waving came to an abrupt halt, his expression crossing from shock to raised-eyebrow defiance. Smoothing the eyebrow with an extended middle finger expressed his sentiments loud and clear.
Walter, fumbling with his vibrating cell phone, missed the exchange. Lucky mouthed, “When and where?”
Bo mouthed back, “In your dreams.”
Inwardly Lucky crowed, distracted by the little bit of personal info Newbied unwittingly given away. He didnt figure too many straight men would get what hed meant. He certainly doubted “poster-child for macho” Keith or “relic from a bygone era” Art would. Right now, he put the odds of Bo being gay at eighty percent.
“Dont mind him,” Walter said, glancing up from his phone in time to catch the glower on Bos face. “After this morning, Luckys coming down from an adrenaline rush. It always makes him touchy. Please continue.”
A captive audience, Lucky listened, but not because he wanted to.
“Cut and dried. Turns out a little Mom and Pop drug store wasnt doing checks or properly documenting pseudoephedrine sales. „Customers cannot purchase more than 3.6 grams of pseudoephedrine in a single day.” Was the guy quoting a textbook? “Not only did a single customer come in four times in one day, he boughtsix boxes each time, and the tech didnt bother to check his ID.”
Walter, who never stayed quiet for long, took over the telling. “The local boys in blue tracked the customer to a small time meth lab.”
“Well, good for them!” Lucky spat. A single lab hardly made a dent in the local supply. Why the hell did Walter even waste their time with such small potatoes, unless the whole thing had been a test for Newbie, a nice safe assignment that only a moron could fail.
Okay, maybe hes not a moron.
In Luckys eyes, the guy was still guilty of being both a slacker and a jerk until Lucky himself found acquitting evidence.
“As a registered pharmacist, Bo can be our man on the inside, obtaining information not easily accessible to the rest of the team.” Walters “Proud Papa” act grated on Luckys nerves.
Lucky gulped down a mouthful of coffee.
Uh-huh. And we need a hoity-toity pill pusher why?

“Ah, cube, sweet cube,” Lucky groused, pouring on the sarcasm. He eased down into a chair more likely than not to throw him on the floor if he leaned back too far. He kept the chair for entertainment value, whenever coworkers deigned to occupy his space. Hard to remain dignified while squealing and windmilling your arms to try and stay upright. Lucky didnt doubt hed been given the chair from hell for the very same reason, and wouldnt give his
benefactors
the pleasure of victory. The ruthless piece of furniture reminded him of the office pecking order, and he took the time to learn its nature and how not to piss it off. He and his chair made a good match, in his opinion.

And good, bad, or ugly, it was his, damn it, and in a few months hed be chuckling about the poor sap who got stuck with it.
Heh. Maybe itll be Newbie.
Visualizing Bos glorious butt cradled in Luckys own ass print caused things to stir where they ought not be stirring at work.

A sudden appearance by Walter, and imagining him in a Speedo, put an end to Luckys budding erection. Worked every time. Tragically, Walter suffered what southerners called “Dunlaps syndrome”, as in “Belly done lapped over his belt.”

Walt ers chest swelled with a deep breath, which he slowly let out like a balloon leaking air. The chair opposite Lucky gave a startled squeak when Walter sank into it, and the mass of wrinkles on his forehead brought to mind a sharpei. “Im afraid theres been a further complication in the Regency Pharma case.” He waved a half-eaten doughnut in the air before dunking it in a cup of something foamy and popping it in his mouth. The mystery cup might have held coffee, with a healthy dose of whipped cream and powdered sugar from the donut. Luckys stomach surged.

“Whatd they do now? And please tell me I dont have to spend another month in Raleigh.”
“The body of a twenty-year-old man was found in a Chicago hotel room along with over six hundred doses of assorted narcotics and anti-psychotics, traced back to the same manufacturer: Regency Pharma.”
The sheer amount inspired a whistle. “Thats a lot of shit for one person. Mustve been one hell of a party hed planned.”
Walter shook his head, blowing into his coffee or whatever it was before taking a sip. He wore a white foam mustache when he set the cup down. “He had prescriptions for five separate medications from the same prescriber. The pharmacy that filled them is not an Authorized Distributor of Record for Regency, nor did we find a single local wholesaler who admitted to supplying them.”
Damn.
Luckyd planned on riding into retirement doing busy work in his cube in Atlanta. He read the writing on the wall and sensed cruising into the twilight wasnt going to happen. “I reckon Im not gonna like where this conversation is headed.”
A flicker of an apologetic smile crinkled the whipped cream residue on Walters upper lip. “Regardless of your constant complaint about your job being a necessary evil and no more, you keep up with the news and must be aware of the unbelievable amounts of controlled substances purchased by entities in Florida.”
“Yeah. Ive never understood why nothings been done. And for the record, I only watch the news to see hot reporters.”
Walter rolled his eyes heavenward, but continued, “The laws are changing. Floridas recently initiated a campaign to crack down on pill mills.”
Luckyd read about some of those covert DEA operations, bearing ominous names like “Prescription for Death.” Pill mills handed out narcotics like candy, submitting fraudulent claims to government assistance agencies, costing US taxpayers millions and resulting in way too many deaths. Lucky may have walked on the wrong side of the law on occasion, but he had no use for whitecollar, glorified drug dealers—anymore.
No ones as holy as one whos reformed.
“Bout fucking time if you ask me.”
“Theres a statewide sweep in progress as we speak—a cooperative effort between the DEA, the FDA, the Florida Board of Pharmacy, and local law enforcement. As a result, manpower is stretched thin. Weve teamed up with various other agencies in the past, and weve been asked to join the latest task force.”
Luckyd been right. He wasnt going to like this.
“Well be assisting, gathering evidence. Already suspicious practices are closing shop and moving to states without proper laws in place to stop them. We have to strike now, before the madness spreads.” Walter spoke calmly, mild expression successfully hiding what simmered beneath a “business as usual” demeanor.
You totally get off on this shit, having the big boys invite us to play, dont cha?
“What? You mean the „you boys better stay out of trouble guys have come to us, hat in hand? Last month they were hissing and spitting about jurisdiction and calling the SNB „wannabes.” Even among his own coworkers Lucky heard such insults on a regular basis. “
Dont
wanna be” more summed it up. Hed be happy as hell to take his sorry carcass elsewhere.
“It seems theyve changed their minds.” Walter held up a hand to stifle protests. “And Ive offered our services.”
Years of scathing comments, and a formal inquiry into Luckys inclusion on Walters team, left him skeptical. “And they dont have a problem with your hiring practices?”
“I quote, „Who better to fight the war on drugs than someone who knows the enemy intimately?”
Whoeverd barfed up such a snide-ass remark didnt have to add the
intimately
part, in Luckys opinion. A scowling, holier- than-thou sneer, attached to a scowling, holier-than-thou official, parked itself in Luckys brain. “Sounds like old Stick-up-his-ass, and only if a camera were rolling. And he said a whole lot worse the last time I came face to face with the dick head.”
“Actually, your nemesis has been replaced. Shortly after making a rather unprofessional comment about another agency, it seems.” Walter donned his best predatory smile, hinting at whod orchestrated the assholes downfall. Lucky might not be Walters favorite person, but Walter had zero tolerance for others disrespecting his team. “His replacement is a little more open- minded, and fabled to breathe fire and eat drug lords for breakfast. Shes got a good head on her shoulders and doesnt mind a little creativity to get the job done.” A twitch at the corner of Walters mouth was the only indication of how amusing he found the whole situation.
Lucky huffed out a breath, resigned to whatever fate awaited. “What we gotta do?”
“Nothing youre not prepared for. As I said, theyre currently shorthanded; well be providing intel in cooperation with local law enforcement. Well start with stationary surveillance. Theres a small practice advertising itself as a pain management clinic on the outskirts of Orlando. Its quite possibly the tip of the iceberg of a much larger enterprise. Theyre the ones who provided the Chicago victim with his means to an end. Apparently, he was a regular patient. Why come all the way from Chicago to Orlando? And why would any legitimate facility prescribe hundreds of pills at one time?
“Stake it out. I want a record of who visits, how long they stay. The basics. Weve managed a first interview for Bo under the name William Larsen, and hope to get him inside to gather solid evidence. From what weve already learned, it seems The Ryerson Clinic makes a habit of hiring those with slightly less than perfect records.”
“In other words, desperate sods who dont mind bending the rules a little in gratitude for having a job?”
“Precisely.”
“Sounds to me you already have enough evidence to make a raid.”
Walter shook his head, the harsh fluorescent lighting highlighting a smattering of gray in his hair. “We need to find out whos supplying them.”
Luckyd disagreed with his keeper many times over the years; this took the cake. “Youre sending in the newbie?”
“Hes a licensed pharmacist, and hell work in the clinics pharmacy, funneling any relevant information to you. He knows the meds and pharmacy laws, unlike you, who spends more time and effort testing rules.”
“Me!” Now was Luckys turn for a little eye-rolling. “Since when do I work with a partner?”
Walter spoke in no uncertain terms. “You did agree to train your replacement, didnt you?”
Oh shit. I did.But Im not going down without a fight.
“Under duress. I never expected you to hold me to that.”
“Lucky?”
“Yes?”
“Im holding you to that. Unless youd rather go back to Raleigh and spend the next few weeks in an office, reviewing each and every shipping record theyve ever produced.”
Newbie cleared his throat, and for the first time Lucky noticed him, propping a hip on the opposite desk. Given the overloaded box in his hands, he must be moving in to stay.
Double damn.
“Im standing right here, you two.” Eyeing Luckys “lived in” cube, with its array of piled papers and dirty coffee cups, Bo pursed his lips in disapproval. “There goes the neighborhood.”
Lucky reached out a verbal hand to yank the mans chain. “Dont sweat it, kid. I dont intend to stick around long enough to crash the community barbeque. Now, why dont you run along and fetch me some coffee while the two gruff alley cats hiss and spit a little bit. This aint for a PG audience.”
Bos protests were cut off by Walters irritatingly unruffled, “Well only be a minute.”
The newbie slammed the box down on the desk in a shower of ink pens, Post-it pads, and other evidence of a recent visit to the supply closet. With a narrowed-eye glare at Lucky he flounced off, in pursuit of more coffee, hopefully. “Four sugars,” Lucky shouted to a retreating back.
Once an appropriate distance separated Lucky from the pair of ears he didnt want listening in, he pled his case. “You cant do this to me. Hes too new. Hell get burnt within his first week. No way in hell does he have what it takes to rub elbows with the bad guys and come out unscathed. How old is he anyway?”
“Hes thirty-one, and prior to earning his pharmacy degree, he served in Afghanistan.”
“Marine?” Yeah, Newbie did have a straight-backed, jar-head aura about him, but he didnt appear anywhere near his age.
“Yes. He was a Marine.”
Lucky didnt like admitting hed misjudged the newcomer, or his deep respect for Marines. Hed once contemplated joining their ranks before making a career decision his high school guidance counselor definitely wouldnt have approved. “Lemme get this straight. We watch the place, he goes in, I babysit. Anything else?” While not promising much excitement, it wasnt the worst assignment hed ever been given.
Walter took a sip of the last of the creamy liquid in front of him, adding another layer of foam to his upper lip. Lucky scrunched his face. How in the world did the man drink that frothy shit? He should be ashamed of himself, desecrating a good cup of coffee with anything besides sugar.
Lowering his voice, though no one wandered close enough to hear, Lucky reminded his boss, “You only get until the end of December. After Ive paid in full Im outta here. Im not hanging around. The last youll see of me is ass and elbows on my way out the door.”
“Youve made it abundantly clear. Are you saying you cant get the job done before NewYears?” Walter goaded.
Somewhere a Broadway play is missing its leading man, cause Walter sure as hell should have been an actor.
“And here Ive been telling everyone you were the best. Have I boasted needlessly?”
Newbie waited in the hallway, a cup in each hand, about ten paces away. Lucky nodded, as much to Bo as to Walter. “Id hoped to end my time quietly here at the office, but if I gotta go stare at a building for a few days, I dont suppose itll kill me.”
“Good. Now, lets enjoy our coffee while I give you the particulars. Afterward, since hes new to the area, why dont you show Bo around Atlanta a bit? You have to be in place in Orlando by Monday.”
It started slowly, the insistent twitch of an upper lip, quickly joined by an answering lift on theopposite side of Luckys mouth as evil plans came together in his brain. “Good idea, boss. And I know exactly where to start.”