25. Levi

Chapter twenty-five

Levi

T he marine supply store smells of salt and old wood, the kind of place that's seen decades of weather-beaten fishermen coming through its doors. I've been here more times than I can count, so the shelves of boat parts, fishing gear, and weathered nautical charts feel like familiar territory. The owner's radio hums quietly from behind the counter, playing a static-laden oldies station, and the low murmur of voices from another aisle blends into the background as I make my way to the back where they keep the engine parts.

I'm rummaging through a bin of spark plugs, half-focused on finding the right size, when the conversation from the next aisle catches my attention. The voices are low but intense, the kind of tone that makes your instincts prick up. I don't think much of it at first, just another customer arguing over the price of a part or maybe complaining about a fishing trip gone wrong. But then I hear something that sends a chill down my spine.

"This isn't what I signed up for, Moore. We're screwed after that raid," the voice says, sharp and panicked.

I freeze, my hand hovering over the spark plugs as I process what I just heard. The voice is familiar, and the name Moore hits me like a punch to the gut. Could he mean Officer Moore? One of the Fish and Wildlife officers who came to investigate after we were shot at on the island? My breath catches as I slowly move closer to the end of the aisle, careful not to make any noise. I quickly pull my phone out of my pocket and start recording a video in hopes of getting enough evidence for Detective Goodwin to arrest both men.

"You think I don't know that Manny?" Another voice snaps back, cold and commanding. It's unmistakably Officer Moore. "But panicking won't solve anything. We've still got one more shipment lined up, and if you keep your head, we'll make up for the lost cargo."

I glance around the edge of the shelf, just enough to see them without being seen. They're near the far end of the aisle, close to where the store's small office is tucked away. Moore is standing with his back to me, tall and rigid, while the other man—Manny, a scruffy-looking guy in a faded baseball cap—looks like he's about to bolt. His eyes dart nervously around the store, but Moore's presence keeps him rooted to the spot.

"Moore, I'm telling you, it's getting too hot out there," Manny says, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Half our guys are in custody, and the ones that aren't are spooked. We lost a ton of product in that raid, and now the cops are sniffing around even more. How are we supposed to pull off another delivery with everyone watching?"

Moore takes a step closer to Manny, his voice dropping even lower, but I can still catch the edge of his words. "We've got one more shot at this. One big haul, and then we can lay low until the heat dies down. You just need to keep the men in line and make sure nothing goes wrong with this delivery. I've already arranged for a new route that'll bypass the authorities. But if you screw this up, there's no coming back."

My heart pounds in my chest as the pieces start to click into place. Officer Moore is more than just corrupt—he's the one orchestrating the entire poaching operation, using his position to shield his crew and keep the authorities off their backs. The raid might have put a dent in their operation, but it hasn't stopped them. And now, they're planning something big—something that could make up for the losses and keep the poaching ring alive.

Manny looks like he's on the verge of breaking. "You're asking for a miracle, Moore. The guys are scared, and they're talking about cutting their losses. If this goes south, it's not just them going down—it's all of us."

Moore's eyes narrow, his voice turning icy. "If anyone tries to back out, they'll regret it. I've covered for you, Manny. Made sure the evidence pointed away from you and the others during the raid. But I can just as easily make it point right back. You want to talk about who's screwed? Try explaining your way out of a federal indictment without me protecting you."

Manny swallows hard, his bravado crumbling under Moore's threat. "Fine," he mutters. "But this is the last time. After this, I'm done."

"Good," Moore says, satisfaction creeping into his voice. "We finish this delivery, and then we can lay low for a while. But remember, Manny—if anything goes wrong, you won't just have the law after you. You'll have me."

Manny nods once, then quickly turns and heads for the door, his pace just shy of a full-on sprint. I shrink back into the aisle, holding my breath as he passes by, and don't dare move until I hear the bell above the door jingle.

When I finally do peek around the corner again, Moore is standing alone, his back still to me, typing something into his phone with a look of utter control on his face. I can feel my hands trembling, and I force myself to stay calm. I need to get out of here before he notices me. I've heard more than enough to know that we're in serious danger if Moore finds out I overheard this conversation.

I grab the spark plug I need and head to the counter, keeping my head down and my pace steady. The old man behind the register barely looks up as he rings up my purchase, his radio still mumbling in the background.

"Thanks," I mutter, taking the bag and heading out the door, the bell jingling again as I push it open.

Outside, the fresh air feels like a slap to the face, but it's what I need to clear my head. I need to call Detective Goodwin and tell Maya and rest of the team. Moore isn't just corrupt—he's the mastermind behind the whole operation. This should be what the authorities need to bring him down.

We will need to be very careful. If Moore gets even a hint that we're onto him, there's no telling what he'll do to keep his secret buried.

As soon as I'm out of the store, I climb into my truck, slamming the door shut behind me. My heart is still racing, and my hands are trembling as I pull out my phone. Thank God I thought to record the tail end of their conversation, the video is shaky but clear enough to make out their voices. I quickly save the recording to a secure folder, then dial Detective Goodwin's number.

It rings twice before I hear his gruff voice on the other end. "Goodwin."

"Detective, it's Levi," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I'm calling because I just heard something—something big. You remember Officer Moore from Fish and Wildlife? The one who came out after we were shot at?"

There's a pause on the line, the kind that tells me Goodwin is already piecing things together. "Yeah, I remember him. What's going on?"

"I think he's the head of the poaching ring," I say, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I was at the marine store just now, and I overheard him having a heated argument with one of his guys. It's all about the raid that busted part of their operation. They lost a lot of product, but Moore's planning one more big delivery to make up for it."

The line goes quiet, and for a moment, I wonder if we've been disconnected. But then Goodwin speaks, his voice low and intense. "Levi, are you absolutely sure about this?"

"Positive," I reply, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. "I recorded part of their conversation. It's not the whole thing, but it's enough to prove Moore's involved. He was threatening the guy—Manny, I think his name was—telling him they had to go through with this last delivery or else. I'm telling you, Goodwin, this is the break we've been waiting for."

There's a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Send me that video. Now."

I nod, even though he can't see me, and quickly text the video over. "It's on its way. But listen Detective, Moore is dangerous. If he gets wind that we're onto him, he won't hesitate to cover his tracks—no matter what it takes."

"Trust me, I know the type," Goodwin says, his tone grim. "This explains a lot—how they've been able to operate under the radar for so long, why our leads keep hitting dead ends. If Moore's been feeding us misinformation or deliberately steering the investigation away from the real players, we're dealing with a serious breach of trust. And it makes him even more dangerous."

I swallow hard, the reality of the situation sinking in deeper. "What do we do now?"

"First, we confirm what you've got," Goodwin says, his voice all business now. "I'll need to get this video to my superiors and loop in Internal Affairs. We can't make a move on Moore until we have everything locked down. If we tip him off too soon, he could disappear, or worse, take out anyone who could implicate him."

I glance around the parking lot, suddenly hyper-aware of my surroundings. "You think he'll come after us?"

"He might, if he thinks you're a threat," Goodwin says bluntly. "But don't worry—we'll move fast. For now, stay low. Don't confront Moore, and don't do anything that might make him suspicious. I'll get back to you as soon as I've reviewed the video and talked to the right people."

"Got it," I say, exhaling slowly. "And Goodwin... be careful. This guy's not messing around."

"Neither are we," he replies, the steely determination in his voice giving me a small measure of comfort. "I'll be in touch soon. And Levi—thanks for bringing this to me. It might just be the break we need to shut this whole operation down."

We end the call, and I sit in the truck for a moment, the weight of everything settling on my shoulders. Moore is the mastermind behind the poachers, and now we have the evidence to bring him down. But it also means the stakes are higher than ever.

I start the truck and pull out of the parking lot, my mind racing with the next steps. I need to warn Maya and the team, but we can't afford to act rashly. One wrong move, and we could blow the whole thing. But if we play our cards right, we might just take Moore and his entire operation down for good.

As I drive away from the marine store, I can feel the tension in my muscles, coiled tight like a spring. I need to talk to Maya, and fast. I take a deep breath and hit the speed dial on my phone, calling her number. My heart pounds as it rings, each second stretching out longer than the last.

"Hey, Levi," Maya answers, her voice bright and warm, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in my mind.

"Maya, listen—something's happened," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just ran into Officer Moore at the marine store, and I think he's the head of the poaching ring."

There's a brief pause, and when Maya speaks again, her tone is serious. "What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," I say, gripping the steering wheel as I navigate the winding road. "I overheard him talking to one of his guys—Manny—about how they're planning a big delivery to make up for what they lost in the raid. Moore was giving orders, threatening him if they didn't go through with it."

"Levi, this is huge," Maya says, her voice trembling slightly. "What did you do?"

"I called Detective Goodwin. I managed to video part of the conversation, and he's looking into it now. But we need to be careful. If Moore finds out we know, he won't hesitate to protect himself."

Maya is silent for a moment, then she says, "Okay, what do we do?"

"I'm on my way to your place," I tell her, my mind already racing ahead. "I want to be with you to keep you safe. Call Sarah and the others, make sure they know what's going on and tell them to lay low and I'll be in touch as soon as I hear from Goodwin. It's Saturday, so hopefully, they're all reachable. We need to make sure everyone is extra careful until Moore is arrested."

"I'll call them right now," Maya says, the resolve in her voice reassuring me. "But Levi... what if he comes after us?"

"I won't let that happen," I say firmly, pushing down the fear that's gnawing at the edges of my mind. "We've been through too much to let this guy win now. Just make the calls, and I'll be there soon."

"Okay," Maya agrees, her voice softer now. "Be careful, Levi. And hurry."

"I will," I say, my foot pressing down a little harder on the gas. "I'll see you soon."

We hang up, and I focus on the road ahead, the urgency of the situation driving me forward. The thought of something happening to Maya—or any of the others—sends a jolt of adrenaline through me. I can't let that happen. Not after everything we've fought for, not after everything we've been through.

As I speed toward Maya's place, I know we're in the final stretch. The pieces are falling into place, and the end is in sight. But until Moore is behind bars, we're all in danger. And I'm not taking any chances.

I make one stop before going to Maya's, to get my handgun from the boat. I will not be a sitting duck.