Sadie reached for the door again. “Just one thing.” When both Falco and Devlin met her gaze, she continued, “Anyone associated with the Osorio cartel is utterly ruthless. I mean, the kind of evil you don’t even know. Those people will do anything to protect themselves. You should watch your backs.”

“Got it,” Falco confirmed.

As they filed out the door, Devlin paused. “You should watch your back as well. We may not be the only ones who know Walsh came to you.”

Sadie was well aware. This was yet another reason she had to find a way to put all those pieces together.

Whatever was happening, it was no doubt prompted by her past.

5

3:00 p.m.

Office of the Jefferson County District Attorney

Richard Arrington Jr. Boulevard North

Birmingham

Kerri sat behind Deputy District Attorney Asher Walsh’s desk and surveyed his office. The usual government-issued furniture. No upgrades for the wealthy Bostonian. The only concession to his prestigious background was the framed diploma from Harvard Law School. Nothing else.

The bulletin board was plastered with newspaper articles about drugs and human trafficking that had captured Walsh’s attention since he’d landed in Birmingham. So far, the contents of his files and his desk drawers were immaculately organized if lacking in any useful revelations.

One by one Falco moved through the books—mostly law books—filling the shelves along the opposite wall. He opened each one, looking for anything that might be hidden. Then checked the shelf before sliding the volume back into place.

Walsh’s assistant, Louisa Allen, eyes red from a recent bout of tears, had unlocked the desk and left Kerri and Falco to do the necessary search. The press conference had happened at one thirty. The district attorney, with the sheriff and the chief of police as well as the mayor, had announced the somber news. Because of Walsh’s strong and well-known antidrug agenda, the mayor, Emma Warren, was calling for a joint task force that included the DEA. Though she was well aware of how capable the BPD’s Major Investigations Division was and the wider jurisdiction, she felt the death of DDA Walsh was a message, and the city needed to respond to that message with a show of force and unity in a much broader fashion.

Until this proposed task force was set in motion, Kerri and Falco were to carry on.

Warren didn’t seem to be satisfied with the knowledge that the MID was made up of good cops from Birmingham as well as the surrounding communities—including the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department. She understood their jurisdiction was all-inclusive. The former mayor, the chief of police, and the sheriff had spent years developing this division. It was a fairly new concept, yes, but it had worked well so far. Being new to the office of mayor, Warren obviously wanted to prove she was not only paying attention but engaged and more than happy to ensure her predecessor’s legacy still met the needs of the community.

However much she disagreed with the decision, Kerri had to admit it was refreshing to have a woman—especially a minority woman—in the city’s most powerful office. With a law degree as well as one in psychology, Warren had spent her entire career working hard and supporting the community. Rarely a day passed without one effort or the other putting her face front and center in the news. Even at sixty, her sophisticated beauty had captured the media’s attention. Her rhythmic and appealing ability to articulate her message made any audience want to join her cause. The candidates who’d run against her hadn’t stood a chance.

Emma Warren was an inspiration to all women despite being on Kerri’s shit list at the moment.

Shifting her focus back to the matter at hand, Kerri considered that she had executed a thorough search of the desk drawers. No hidden alcohol or drug stash. No porn. Just the usual pencils, pens, notepads, erasers, paper clips. The guy was over-the-top well organized—almost as if he didn’t actually work at this desk. One drawer contained files. These, Allen had explained, were his current working files. Oddly, none were related to the Osorio cartel or any other for that matter. In fact, none were related to illegal drug activity at all.

This didn’t surprise Kerri any more than it suggested Cross had lied about Walsh’s interest in the Osorio cartel. Frankly, there was no readily identifiable, logical motive for Cross to try to mislead them. But what it did illustrate was that Walsh’s research into the cartel was off the record. Not exactly what Kerri would expect from someone with a burning desire to prove himself in a professional capacity. Why the secretiveness—even with his colleagues?

On the other hand, nothing they had discovered suggested the loss of a friend or loved one to drugs or human trafficking, which might imply a personal mission. And yet, based on what they knew so far, this—whatever it was he’d gotten himself into—was in all likelihood personal.

Maybe there was no particular event that had lit a fuse under his personal mission. But that wasn’t the norm. When someone went about an undertaking like this in such a secretive and aggressive manner, there was typically a very personal motive.

She and Falco had only to find it.

They hadn’t interviewed the DA yet. Lockett was in a meeting. Allen would see to it that they got a moment of his time as soon as he was available.

She scanned the notes written on Walsh’s blotting pad once more. The few scattered words didn’t provide anything useful. There was a phone number jotted in one corner, but it was his dry cleaner’s. The in- and out-boxes stationed at the front of his desk were empty. Allen said he stayed on top of the paperwork.

The one framed photo on the desk was of him and some of his law school buddies—this, too, was according to Allen. There was no photo of his parents. He had no siblings. Allen was developing a list of friends and colleagues with whom he associated frequently and any particularly troubling cases he had worked since his arrival in Birmingham. Kerri wasn’t expecting anything useful since the woman had already stated that she couldn’t think of any such cases off the top of her head.

The door swung open, and DA Luther Lockett entered. Kerri straightened and rose to her feet. Lockett was a large man, tall and broad shouldered. Back in the day, he had been a quarterback for the University of Auburn’s Tigers. In Alabama, besides politics the one thing folks got extra hot and bothered about was the rivalry between the Auburn Tigers and the University of Alabama’s Crimson Tide. Football was practically a religion around here.