Blurred Lines

Chapter 16 - A Hard Sell

The precinct buzzed with the kind of frenetic energy that only came during a high-stakes investigation. Officers shuffled in and out, some exchanging hushed whispers, others focused intently on their tasks. Riley stood beside Luke at a table cluttered with evidence from the Warehouse Club recon operation, her heart racing with anticipation.

Luke scanned the documents and photos spread out before them. "These crates are too big just to be moving drugs. Look at the dimensions." He gestured to a diagram of the storage area. "We're talking about heavy machinery or..."

"Guns," Riley finished, her stomach dropping. "You think they're trafficking firearms too?"

"Exactly," Luke said, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "This goes deeper than we thought. If they're moving both, we need to ramp up the investigation."

"We need answers," Detective Jackson chimed in from the other side of the room. "And we need them fast. We've been sitting on this for too long. Whoever's running this, they're getting sloppy, but we won't have that advantage for much longer."

Donnelly nodded. "That's why we're going deep cover. We've got to embed someone in there who can get close to these people without drawing attention."

The room went silent for a beat. Luke, sensing where this was going, straightened up, his gaze narrowing slightly.

Donnelly turned to him. "Maddox, you're familiar with the Warehouse Club. You've got experience with this kind of op. I'm assigning you to the deep cover position."

Luke gave a curt nod, already expecting it. "Understood."

Detective Jackson frowned, though. "We know Maddox can handle it, but there's one problem—we don't have the luxury of time. We need intel fast. It could take months for him to get deep enough inside this operation to find out what's really going on."

The room fell silent again, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. They all knew the risk—if they couldn't get answers quickly, the whole operation could fall apart, and more lives would be at risk.

Riley, who had been standing near the back, listening intently, glanced up at the evidence board. Her mind raced, piecing together the puzzle. The club was busy most nights, filled with people—bartenders, bouncers, regulars. Everyone overlooked the staff. She stepped forward, the idea forming in her head.

"What if..." she started, her voice breaking through the silence. All eyes turned toward her, and she swallowed, forcing herself to keep going. "What if we had someone in the background? Not someone going in as a buyer or a client, but someone who can listen in on conversations without raising any alarms?"

Donnelly raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What are you getting at, Torres?"

Riley glanced at Luke, then back to Donnelly. "The club has a bar, right? People talk when they drink, they get comfortable. If someone were working there, blending in with the staff, they'd hear things. Things people wouldn't say out in the open."

Donnelly's eyes narrowed slightly, considering the idea. "You're suggesting we place someone undercover as a bartender?"

Riley nodded. "Exactly. They wouldn't suspect someone like that. People always overlook the bartenders. I could listen in on conversations, get a sense of who's running things, and report back without drawing attention. It's a position where I could move around freely, overhear things without them realizing. I could blend in. I know that world. I grew up in it."

Luke's gaze snapped to hers, his expression instantly darkening. "Absolutely not."

"Why not?" she pressed, refusing to back down. "I've been on recon shifts with you and Detective Jackson. I know the drill. I can blend in!"