Clearwater Double Cross

By Al Rennie

Business is booming; Joe is asked to back channel to the dark side, to help the CP find a drug dealer selling lethal Ecstasy and to assist Bob Morse in defense of a trial judge accused of killing his wife. Mia is having another change of heart; Frank faces a moral dilemma; CHIPs is involved with Family Court, again;Billy and Natalie ... who would have guessed? Another fun time in Clearwater Beach!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Al Rennie
• Release date: Aug 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310785276

Al Rennie

I was born and raised in Toronto. I attended Upper Canada College before taking a degree at Queen's University. I have worked as a lifeguard for the Toronto Harbour Police, a youth worker for the Toronto YMCA, and an English teacher in Lakefield. I am married with two great daughters and an extended foster family. My interests include Maple Leaf hockey - this is our year - New England Patriot football and writing.

Book preview

Clearwater Double Cross

By

Al Rennie

Dedication

For my wife – Marsha

And to all the kind and supportive readers

of the Clearwater Series.

Copyright © 2015 by Al Rennie

All rights reserved.

Cover Credit: Rita Toews – probably the most caring, patient and inventive cover creator ever!

Photo Credit: www.flickr.com/photos via photopin (license)

Formatting Credit: Lucinda K. Campbell – as always, just great … thank you!

Ellen’s Amendment: One of the Clearwater Series faithful followers recently wrote to tell me that, ‘no offense’, but she didn’t like reading all the verbiage at the beginning of the book, and it would be great just to open the book cover and be right back in Clearwater Beach with her favorite characters. I carefully explained that the verbiage was there as one of the book publishers, either Amazon or Google, required that the first twenty percent of the content be provided as a free preview. I believe 10% is more than enough to get a sense of what you are in for, but as I told the reader, ‘I am nothing if I am not flexible’. So the verbiage is gone for this book … which just happened to turn out to be a little longer than most of my titles anyway. Thanks Ellen and I hope you enjoy Double Cross! No offense … Al

A very few Reader Responses to Clearwater Series:

On the advice of critics, and Ellen, I have limited the number of reader responses. The suggestion was that no one reads them anyway. I know that I do. Apologies to those cut.

Al: Just keep them coming! Clearwater is a great series. The Characters are becoming part of the family!—Edd Jenkins

Love the books, can’t put them down and I even find myself slipping into some of the phrases!!! Not sure that will always be a good thing though! —Carol

I found you first on Smashwords; after that, I kept hitting the buy button in iTunes. I laughed, cried, and told my patients how I almost went to You Tube to look for your video. I see patients in long term care facilities. I have shared your stories and with my patients living on the seawall in Galveston, Tx. You have brought life, love and a bit of silliness into the lives of my patients and have made me a better practitioner. I am forever in your debt.—Katherine

Thanks Al for another chapter (Clearwater Hustle) in the lives of my favourite imaginary friends. I'll go and put some stars and comments on iBooks which is where I get my copies.—Graham Templeman

This series is the best!!!! I read each one as soon as it is published. Al Rennie, you rock!!!! 5 stars!—Marianna Smith

Clearwater Double Cross

Chapter 1

Saturday, April 25, 2015 … Boston … The Bijou Nightclub – 11 p.m.

Great care had been taken in setting up this sting operation. Too much was at stake for this deal to go wrong after all of the time and money that had gone into it. The main player, Don Rimes, was a ten year veteran of the NYC narcotics squad on loan to Boston P.D. He had been in deep undercover for the last six months. His first task had been to try to infiltrate a new drug op that was just beginning to spread across the entire east coast. The final stage of that assignment was still a work in progress. Rimes had done his part of the job well. He had uncovered as many of the players in the distribution system as was believed to be possible. He had been told that the clean-up operation with SWAT raids and arrests would begin before the end of the month. The long process of getting this into court would then be the job for the lawyers.

Detective Rimes was almost giddy at the thought that his risky undercover life would all soon be history. The life he had been living these last months was way past dangerous. Even the tiniest slip-up with this gang and he would have been toast. He knew that fact as did the people who he had allowed to place him in harm’s way.

About six weeks ago, when the success of his main undercover operation was virtually certain, against his wishes, he had been paired with a federal DEA agent named Grant Lewiston. Rimes had a low trust coefficient. He liked to work alone. His superiors had other plans and put the two agents on the scent of a new, smaller group who were just getting started in the upper-middle class urban area of Boston. For any of his East Coast drug pals who might get curious and ask, Lewiston was being played off as a former drug dealing partner who Rimes had worked with years earlier. The story was that he had just been released from prison in Florida. Any superficial check of their legend would prove that to be true. Grant Lewiston’s name was in the system as James Henwick, a mid-level drug criminal who had been doing five to eight years in Florida State Penitentiary East Unit in Raiford. After working with Lewiston for only a few days, Rimes found that he had a lot in common with the other man. The reticence that he had expressed earlier about having a partner to watch his back gradually diminished. The two cops were starting to trust and enjoy each other’s company.

After the follow-up to tonight’s meeting at the Bijou, and then the mop up operation, if everything played out right, the two men would each be free to return to their straight lives with their wives and kids. Detective Sergeant Rimes was also looking at the very nice promised pay raise to go with his certain promotion. Finally, he would be away from the constant danger that is the beast called undercover.

The target of this smaller Boston sting was a recently established drug dealership that had been started and then financially backed by a small group of local criminal lawyers. These three ambitious ‘young gun’ lawyers, who had been friends since their days together in university, had come to recognize, from the incredible wealth their often not too bright clients displayed, just how much money could be made pedalling drugs. They had been overwhelmed by the enormous profits that could be made in the drug trade if you played your cards right and you had the right connections. They also believed that it was only a matter of time before the sale of cannabis was legalized across the entire country just as it had been in Colorado, Oregon and Washington States as well as Alaska. They wanted in on the ground floor to that cash rich bonanza. Of course, the neat trick to obtaining that enormous wealth a few of their smarter clients displayed was not getting caught before the legalization happened and not using too much of the product themselves.

What these bent three lawyers had not remembered was how cops like to get the bottom feeders to serve up the ones higher on the food chain. The cops couldn’t go any higher than the three amigos, which is what the three Boston criminal lawyers had started calling themselves when they established their new drug ring. A low level snitch trying to avoid a return to complete his sentence had fed them up. And that was how this whole deal had started and then why it had been given to Rimes and Lewiston. They were both already ‘in the field’ and had made some important connections. The problem that the new three amigos crew had run into, was finding a steady supply of product to distribute to their on-street sellers who were, in most cases, also the clients they represented in court. The big bucks were just starting to really roll in, but to compete with the other bigger dealers they needed more product to be available on a consistently steady basis. They had done a check on this Rimes character and now believed that he and his fresh out of prison partner, Lewiston were the answer to their problem. They were so wrong about that.

Don Rimes and Grant Lewiston’s eye-candy for this important evening were two single female officers, Ramona Singer and Delaney Tripman. Both women were proven officers with more than four years’ experience with the Boston PD vice squad. As a result and if, for no other reason, were totally familiar with the entire concept of deception. Both of them were tiring of the streets and looking to fatten up their CVs for promotion. They had eagerly volunteered for this one night stand assignment when the brass had asked them to volunteer. Both were carrying small, 25 caliber Berettas in their tiny handbags. That precaution was just in case things went sideways in a hurry. Drug operations can be a little tricky. There’s more involved to this kind of transaction than just strolling into Wal-Mart to buy a new pair of under-drawers.

When the three buyers arrived, the two women would leave the table to go use the ladies room. In fact, the two of them would stay nearby to cover whatever happened at the booth where the five men would be meeting. They would also be watching the crowd for any other interested observers who might be present and watching the lawyer’s backsides.

This meet at the Bijou had been set up for late on Friday night. The location and time had been mutually agreed upon as an acceptable meeting site. The expressed purpose was supposed to be to discuss the quantity of the drug to be purchased, in this case a small quantity of cocaine and a lot of weed, as well as the method of delivery. The recently new cost for the cocaine might be contentious. The noise and activity of the club would cover the discussion that would have to take place as well as make it difficult for anyone wearing a wire. The three amigo lawyers were coming to this meet prepared for a cost increase, but perhaps they wouldn’t be prepared for the extent of the increase. Due to the recent apprehensions at sea, by the coast guards of USA and Canada where tons of the stuff had been impounded, the cost of ‘coke’ had soared off the charts. It was the simple law of supply and demand. Right now the supply of cocaine had taken a hard hit, but the demand for it had never been higher. The result was that the costs were out of sight.

The actual take down of the drug purchasers by a uniformed police squad would be done when the exchange of cash for product was completed. If all went according to schedule, that exchange would take place tomorrow evening in a downtown hotel. By Monday morning, Don Rimes and Grant Lewiston would have gone their separate ways until they were called to testify at the trial. They could expect to be back to new work with their respective agencies after a week or two of down time.

The two law officers were sitting with their vice squad companions quietly swapping stories while they were waiting for their three buyers to arrive. They were relaxed and putting on a show while enjoying their drinks, listening to the up-beat music, and watching the normal people just having fun. The place was really bouncing. That was when two middle aged men, who were dressed a little like mid-western bankers, suddenly arrived in front of Rimes and his friends. No one sitting in the booth had ever seen either man before. The older of the two new guys asked if they could talk to Rimes and his pal alone for only a minute or so. Both of the new men totally ignored the women ... didn`t even glance their way.

Sure, the ladies stay, but we can talk; what’s up? Rimes asked suspiciously. Was this a last minute change of plan by the lawyers? ‘Never trust a friggin’ lawyer …’

The relaxed atmosphere that they had been enjoying disappeared. Grant Lewiston was holding a cocked thirty-two under the table. This action was not in the script identified for tonight’s play. It might be anything or nothing. It might be a competitor wanting to take them out. These two guys could be ‘hitters’. Let it play and see where it goes.

Do you want us to leave? Ramona asked. Her hand had slipped into her small purse beneath the table top.

No, Rimes said. These aren’t the dudes we’re expecting. How can we be of help to you guys?

We are wanting to buy a large quantity of farm equipment … machinery … we were told by some mutual friends that you might be able to help us, the smaller of the two men said in a slightly British accent.

Someone gave you some bad information partner, Rimes said dismissively with a smile. We don’t deal in farm equipment. Try the John Deere tractor outlet on the outskirts of town … I think they’re in the telephone book.

I might know someone who can help you, Lewiston interjected quickly. What kind of farm material are you looking for?

This is not the place to discuss this matter.

I agree, Grant Lewiston said. Do you have a number that I can call later? We are meeting someone else here tonight on some other business. In just a few minutes, actually ...

The man rattled off a sequence of numbers that Lewiston jotted down on a cocktail napkin that he then folded and slipped into his jacket pocket. The two guests nodded slightly and backed away from the booth before turning and walking away quickly. They still had not looked at either of the women.

What was that all about? Rimes asked.

They were looking to buy weapons. The guys in ATF often refer to gun dealers as farm machinery salesmen because the weapons they ship are often listed that way on ship manifests, Lewiston said. One of us should follow them.

Who would have told them that you were selling weapons? Ramona asked.

Good question … I think we might just have tipped off the opposition. And why didn’t they even look at the two of you? You guys are pretty hot … a guy, any guy, is going to check you out … I didn’t get the gay vibe from them. Shit … there goes anything that looks like a promotion. I think we’ve been made.

Chapter 2

Thursday May 21st, 2015 … Joe Meets with Edd

So you are telling me that there is a guy … a known terrorist on the FBI’s Most Wanted List … in the States, right now, trying to buy weapons and that you didn’t realize that he was here until after last Saturday night when he and a friend, who you don’t know, messed up a drug sting in Boston … is that about it?

Close your mouth, Joe … my lawyer, Bob Morse whispered.

I was sitting with Edd Jenkins, the deputy head of Homeland Security and another Homeland agent named John Smith who, from the look of him, might really have been Jenkin’s personal bodyguard. I might add that I am constantly amazed by the number of Smiths and Jones who work at Homeland. I have met with Mr. Jenkins on one or two other occasions. I don’t think anyone would confuse us for buds, but I think the respect I had for him was mutual. In the event that wasn’t the case this time, my lawyer, Bob Morse, was sitting beside me. We were meeting in Bob’s law office by grudging mutual consent. I had been summoned to this morning’s chin wag with Mr. Jenkins yesterday in the late afternoon. The authoritative masculine voice, perhaps belonging to Agent J. Smith, had issued the invitation and suggested, in the strongest of terms, that attendance by me was not optional. It would be generally acknowledged among the people who know me at all that I do not do well with unknown authoritative voices… or even the known ones, most often. I had sent back an equally strong message stating that I would only be available if my lawyer was with me and the meet was to take place in his St. Pete’s Beach office. Surprisingly, after a few seconds of silence passed, the detached voice replied, in a more amicable tone, that Edd Jenkins would be willing to agree to that condition. That concession, by itself, told me that most likely I was not going to be leaving Bob’s office at the end of this meeting wearing handcuffs. But I’ve been wrong before.

At first the two undercover guys thought that these three Boston lawyers, who, get this … refer to themselves as the three amigos...

Edd took a pause at that point in his narrative to give Bob and me and chance to chuckle. Bob did; I didn’t.

"Anyway, the three lawyers, who