Trusting Danger (Danger, #2)(2)
He’d spent the last three weeks hanging out with one of the ring’s lower-level members, a small-time drug runner named Darryl. While Grayson was making progress infiltrating the ring, gaining Darryl’s trust and meeting some of the other lower-level players, it was frustratingly slow. He’d hoped to be further along by now with more info on the higher-ups, starting with Darryl’s supplier, Rex Gibson.
“I still haven’t met with Gibson, but I’m going to see Darryl again this afternoon.” Switching gears, Grayson explained his aunt’s call, ending with, “If I drive up to Scranton tonight, I should be able to get back to DC by Saturday morning.”
Eli’s usual no-nonsense tone softened. “Why don’t you stay with your mother for longer than that? We can let Aiden continue to work the case.”
Grayson rested his elbows on his knees as he thought through his options. Ever since the DEA had turned this case over to Phoenix, Eli had been receiving daily calls from his DEA counterpart, asking for progress reports. Aiden Turner, a longtime Phoenix agent with a few years’ seniority on Grayson, had worked the case for the past six months from Baltimore. When Aiden got a lead that key players were operating in DC, Grayson had been brought in on the case to pursue the DC connection while Aiden continued running down leads in Maryland.
There was no way Grayson was going to lose the momentum he’d worked so hard to build with Darryl. Ignoring the regret that tied his stomach in knots, he said, “It’s best for all of us if I keep plugging away.”
His boss was silent for a moment. “All right then. Call me after your meeting with Darryl.”
After agreeing that he would, Grayson ended the call. He tossed his phone back on the nightstand and headed for the shower, pushing aside for the moment his worry for his mother and the nagging unease that remained from a restless night’s sleep.
Chapter Two
The low murmur of nearby hushed conversations was a soothing backdrop for Claire as she updated her notes of the case she was working on at the Georgetown Law Library in Washington, DC. A row of identical tables to the one she was seated at stretched down an aisle between walls of built-in bookcases filled with thick law books.
“Hey, Claire!”
She looked up from her laptop as her friend and classmate Leah plopped into the seat across from her, right on time for their meeting to discuss progress on their joint capstone project—defending a client in a criminal case. Although their professor acted as supervising attorney to oversee their work, in the end, their client’s defense was Claire and Leah’s responsibility. A failing grade on their project report would make it difficult for either Claire or Leah to graduate from law school this year . . . not to mention what it would mean for their client.
“I just got an email from Professor Moore,” Claire said as Leah pulled out her own laptop. “She thinks the prosecutor might offer a deal.”
“In exchange for what?”
“A higher-level dealer’s name.”
“It would be a lucky deal for him.” Leah frowned. “But Chris isn’t gonna give anyone up.”
“He’s got no choice.” Claire sat up straighter in her seat. “If he doesn’t, he’ll be convicted.”
Their client, Christopher Jones, had grown up in the foster system. After graduating from high school and aging out of foster care, he’d moved in with a friend and landed a job as a waiter. At some point, he’d taken a wrong turn—a textbook case of hanging out with the wrong people—and ended up dealing drugs to make ends meet.
The fact that she and Leah were responsible for Chris’s court case was keeping Claire up at night. Getting the nineteen-year-old boy out of jail wouldn’t be easy. There was indisputable evidence against him, including video footage of him exchanging drugs for money behind the restaurant where he worked. Too bad the boy didn’t realize his boss had installed a security camera outside the delivery door.
“Just don’t be surprised when he says no to the deal.”
Claire bit down on her lip. What if Leah was right? What if Chris rejected the deal?
She frowned, trying to picture Chris inside the prison system. Although an adult in the eyes of the law, he was just a scrawny teen, and at about five foot six, he wasn’t even as tall as Claire, who had a couple of inches on him and maybe ten to twenty pounds. Soft-spoken and ginger-haired, the boy had an honest face and a stubborn streak a mile wide. He wouldn’t stand a chance among the hardened prison population he’d be transferred to if convicted.
Leah drew a stack of papers from her tote. “I printed out the forms we’ll need when we visit the jail tomorrow.” She handed over the papers and Claire turned her attention to them, paging through the stack. “Are we done here?”
Claire glanced at the last page before setting the packet down. “Sure.”
“Great.” Leah stood, lifting the strap of her canvas messenger bag over her shoulder. “You’ll lead tomorrow’s meeting with the AUSA?”
In the District of Columbia, the justice system was set up a bit differently than other municipalities. Rather than a district attorney with a staff of assistant district attorneys working for him or her to prosecute cases, DC had a United States attorney who prosecuted both federal and local cases, and a staff of assistant US attorneys, or AUSAs.