Page 106 of The Fourth Option
“No shit.”
“Where’s he now?”
“Lafayette Cemetery No. 1. Killed in Afghanistan.”
“I’m not as smart as you Bureau guys, but I’d say that constitutes a clue.”
“Agreed.”
“You got video of this DEA visitor from the Federal Building?”
“Yes, but it’s not great. Back of his head. He wore a hat. We know he’s white, bearded, with long blond hair.”
“There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“There is. NOPD has a statement from a Staub neighbor saying they saw someone matching that description in the area the night of the murder.”
“And?”
“And we have Ring doorbell footage of a VW van parked a few blocks down arriving before the first calls came in and leaving before the cops arrived. Too far away for facial recognition.”
Mendez leaned back and interlaced his massive fingers behind his head.
“Is this where you tell me you don’t believe in coincidences?”
“I do believe in coincidences. I see them all the time.”
“And the dead cops? What were they doing there?”
“Department is hailing them as heroes. Rushing into a violent scene. Could be. We don’t know.”
“Somebody knows.”
“Somebody always knows.”
“And in this case, that ‘someone’ is skilled in the art of snatching souls.”
“It would appear so.”
“I need another burger. What’s your theory?”
Instead of answering right away, Stanton tapped his foot to the beat. The tourists were clapping. Stanton liked tourists. They were a sign the city was healthy.
“Do cartels ever hire people on this side of the border? Hitters?”
“They might. They’re very results-oriented, but they tend to keep that kind of talent in-house.”
“I see,” Stanton said.
“My gut is that there’s no cartel war here in New Orleans. Nothing’s come out of Venezuela since January. We’ve got the Gulf locked down. Coast Guard, DHS, and the Texas border’s tighter than it’s been in a long time. We’re shutting down fentanyl and precursor labs internationally. Now, if we were in El Paso or Brownsville, maybe I could see a cartel war shaking out, but here?” He shook his head. “This is Isaacson trying to shift blame so she can keep her hands clean on the way to the governor’s mansion in Baton Rouge.”
Stanton knew that Mendez had run ops in Mexico and countries farther south for years. If the man said there was no spillover, then he was inclined to believe him.
“There is something, though,” Mendez said.
“What is it?”
“You buying lunch?”
