chapter 71
AFTER A LONG night of swapping Tam stories and celebrating his capture, the two Mississippi Drug Task Force officers rose from their beds at the Hilton early and started backfilling the story to their superiors. It was a glorious event in their careers, and both men were appreciative of everyone who had helped, especially the guys from Rascal Flatts. The last several months had been a strain on the officers’ lives and marriages. Many family events had been missed in an effort to put cuffs on one of Mississippi’s largest drug importers. They justified their extended stays from their families by knowing they were making Mississippi safer. It was a thankless job.
They walked out to their black sedan after a free continental breakfast and were due to meet an official transport van to haul Tam to Jackson at 11:00 a.m. sharp. They were nervous about the transport and had decided to have a decoy van also. Tam’s gang was notorious, and they would do anything to free their leader.
“You sleep good?”
“Not really. My son lost his retainer for the third time, and my wife was pitching a fit.”
“I bet he’ll find it.”
“I sure hope so. My wife was pretty upset. Hell, she’s been upset…mainly because I wasn’t there to help with the parentin’,” he said as he put the key in the ignition.
“At least we got Tam. That’s got to be a career-makin’ night for us.”
“And Alexa. Maybe we can learn something from her.”
As they pulled onto the road, the senior officer’s cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number but could tell it was local by the area code.
“This is John Wesley. Yes. What!”
The other officer strained to hear what was being said but couldn’t.
“How in the hell did that happen? Have you put out an APB? We’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said in disgust and ended the call.
“What is it?” the driver asked.
“They mistakenly let Tam go. They had another Vietnamese man about the same age, height, and build. Apparently they swapped clothes, and nobody could tell the difference.”
“That Mercedes that he was in last night—we need to put out an urgent APB on it.”
The officer searched through his notes for the tag number.
“Dammit. We should have picked up the driver too, when we had the chance.”
“What about Alexa?”
“I didn’t think to ask. Let’s just get to the police station. Shit! I can’t freakin’ believe this!”