Chapter 2 - The Dead InformantSix years earlier, Noah Keene had burned to death inside a warehouse outside Sparks.
At least that was what Jude Barrett had been told.
Jude sat across from him in an interview room at Reno Police headquarters at 1:13 in the morning and stared at a man whose memorial photograph still existed in an old case file downstairs.
Same eyes.
Same scar.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
Noah wore handcuffs.
He hadn't requested a lawyer.
That alone made Jude suspicious.
“You died.”
Noah leaned back.
“Apparently not.”
“This isn't funny.”
“I wasn't laughing.”
Jude put both hands on the table.
“Six years.”
Noah looked away.
“You let me think you were dead for six years.”
“I needed you to.”
“Why?”
No answer.
Jude's jaw tightened.
Noah Keene had been twenty-eight when he became a confidential informant in one of the largest stolen-vehicle investigations Jude had ever worked.
Noah wasn't innocent then.
He cloned VINs.
Moved stolen motorcycles between Nevada and California.
He got caught.
Then offered information.
Names.
Lots.
Routes.
One location repeatedly surfaced.
The Blue Yard.
A vehicle storage property in north Reno.
Noah promised to take Jude there.
Two days before the meet, the warehouse Noah used as a temporary garage burned.
A body was recovered.
Noah's wallet.
Noah's jacket.
Dental comparison later described as “consistent.”
Case closed.
Jude had carried guilt for years.
He believed Noah died because he talked.
Now Noah sat three feet away.
“You know who identified the body?” Jude asked.
Noah's eyes shifted.
“Do you?”
“Captain Shaw signed the final informant report.”
Everett Shaw.
Jude's mentor.
The man who taught him how to work gang cases without treating every criminal like a lost cause.
Noah gave a bitter smile.
“There's your first problem.”
Jude felt something cold move through him.
“Careful.”
“Still defending him?”
“I'm asking you a question.”
“No.”
“You're trying not to ask the question.”
Jude leaned closer.
“What question?”
Noah looked directly at him.
“How did a body that wasn't mine become mine?”
Silence.
Jude didn't answer.
A knock sounded.
Detective Amara Cole entered.
“No prints yet.”
Jude frowned.
“What?”
“System is getting partial mismatches.”
Noah smiled.
“I damaged them.”
Amara looked at his fingertips.
Old chemical burns.
Jude remembered Noah worked around stripping solvents.
“You did that deliberately?”
“Some.”
Amara put a folder down.
“Tanner Beck identity is fake.”
No surprise.
“Cassidy Wynn is talking.”
Noah's eyes sharpened.
Jude noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What does Cassidy know?”
Noah shook his head.
“Less than she thinks.”
Jude stood.
“Keep him here.”
Noah spoke.
“Jude.”
He stopped.
Noah's voice lowered.
“The men tonight weren't waiting for a random biker.”
Jude turned.
“They were waiting for you.”
The room seemed to narrow.
“How do you know?”
“Because Rafe described the bike before Cassidy ever saw you.”
Jude's black Indian Scout wasn't unique.
But his had a custom silver scratch across the fuel tank after a training accident.
Noah continued.
“Black Scout. Silver scar on the left side. Rider leaves downtown around eleven-forty most Thursdays.”
Jude stared.
Tonight was Thursday.
“You knew?”
“Not until I saw you.”
“Then why didn't you warn me?”
“I was trying to figure out who gave Rafe the route.”
“You could've walked away.”
“And gotten shot later.”
Jude didn't like the answer because it sounded plausible.
“What were they supposed to take?”
“Bike.”
“Anything else?”
“Your phone.”
“Why?”
Noah looked toward the mirrored window.
“That's what you should be asking Cassidy.”
Jude left him.
Cassidy sat two rooms away wearing a police-issued sweatshirt over leggings. The fake pregnancy belly lay bagged as evidence.
She looked smaller without it.
Less theatrical.
More tired.
Amara sat beside the wall.
Cassidy stared at Jude when he entered.
“Is his name really Noah?”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“You first.”
She laughed nervously.
“I'm the one in cuffs.”
“You're also the one who waved me down.”
“I didn't know you were a cop.”
“You knew my motorcycle.”
Her face changed.
There.
Noah had been telling the truth.
Cassidy looked at Amara.
“I want a deal.”
Amara said,
“You're not at a flea market.”
“I'll tell you everything.”
“Then start.”
Cassidy swallowed.
“Rafe said tonight was different.”
“How?”
“Usually we pick someone.”
“Tonight?”
“He picked.”
Jude sat.
“What exactly did he say?”
Cassidy thought.
“He said a black motorcycle would come through between eleven-forty and midnight.”
“Anything about the rider?”
“No.”
“Phone?”
“Yes.”
Jude's heartbeat changed.
“What about it?”
“He said if there was a phone mounted on the handlebars, take it before anything else.”
Jude pictured his phone.
It had been mounted there until three blocks before Cassidy appeared.
He'd slipped it into his inside pocket because the temperature dropped.
“What did he want from it?”
“I don't know.”
“Cassidy.”
“I swear.”
Her eyes were frightened.
Not performatively.
Really.
“He said somebody was paying extra for the phone.”
“Who?”
“Never said.”
“What about Noah?”
She shook her head.
“Tanner joined three weeks ago.”
“Did Rafe trust him?”
“No.”
“Why keep him?”
“He knew engines.”
That fit.
“What happened when he saw my badge?”
Cassidy leaned forward.
“He didn't look scared of police.”
“I noticed.”
“He looked scared of you.”
Jude said nothing.
Cassidy continued.
“Rafe didn't know who he was either.”
“Did Noah ever mention Captain Everett Shaw?”
No recognition.
“Roman Barrett?”
This time something happened.
Tiny.
Cassidy looked down.
Jude's chest tightened.
Roman Barrett was Jude's older brother.
Owner of Barrett Recovery.
Their father's towing company.
“What do you know about Roman?”
Cassidy whispered,
“I don't know him.”
“You reacted.”
“I've heard the name.”
“Where?”
“Rafe.”
Jude leaned closer.
“What did he say?”
Cassidy stared at her cuffed hands.
“That if a bike ever had to disappear completely…”
Pause.
“…it went to Barrett.”
Jude sat back.
“No.”
Cassidy looked at him.
“I'm telling you what he said.”
“My brother runs a licensed tow company.”
“I don't care what he runs.”
“You're saying stolen motorcycles went through my family's yard.”
“I'm saying Rafe said they did.”
Jude stood too quickly.
Amara watched him.
Cassidy looked frightened again.
Then she added,
“There was another name.”
Jude stopped.
“Who?”
“Blue Yard.”
His blood went cold.
Six years earlier.
Noah had promised to take him to the Blue Yard.
Jude had never found it.
Cassidy whispered,
“Rafe said Barrett still owns it.”
And for the first time since Noah sat across from him alive, Jude understood something worse than a dead informant returning.
May you like
The case Noah supposedly died for may never have ended.
It may have been hiding inside Jude's own family business the entire time.
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