“I know Donnelly hand-picked you and you have a strong sense of loyalty to him, but we need to be cautious and careful. Because Donnelly is a good agent, he has made a lot of enemies, and I don’t want to be the one to tell your family that you’re dead.”
She tried to justify her decision to sit outside the SAPD waiting for Nate Dunning to emerge as not actually violating a direct order so much as not asking for permission. She’d done everything she could in the office, and they were waiting for the digital recordings from the warehouse to see if it showed anything that would be useful in tracking Donnelly’s kidnappers.
She didn’t want to get Zach in trouble, but she had been communicating with him, and he seemed to want to help. He’d been told to steer clear of Sean and Lucy, but given no orders related to Nate, so they were playing the “better to ask for forgiveness than permission” approach. He sent her photos the crime scene investigators had taken of the drugs on site. Nate’s vehicle had been impounded and the drugs were at the crime lab pending verification.
Most work sent to the lab on a Friday wouldn’t be dealt with until next week, if then. The Bexar County crime lab handled multiple different law enforcement jurisdictions and was one of the best in the state, but like any lab, they were backlogged. Nate was going to be without his truck for at least three days, if not longer.
It was after four that afternoon when Nate emerged from the facility. Aggie watched in her mirror as Nate listened to Rachel Vaughn, his direct supervisor. Nate wasn’t speaking. Rachel was clearly emphatic about something, but Aggie couldn’t read lips. A minute later, Nate turned and walked directly toward her small truck. He looked angry. Aggie froze as Rachel watched him approach her pickup. Had he told her that Aggie was picking him up? Did Rachel remember who she was? Would she think it was weird? Aggie had only met her twice, but she didn’t want her to call Martin and rat her out.
Nate opened the passenger door and got in. “Thanks,” he mumbled. When she didn’t immediately drive, he said, “Go. Now.”
She turned the ignition and sped off. She always drove too fast, but she’d been taught by her oldest brother, the cop, and she had to keep up with her siblings. She, at least, had only gotten one ticket—each of her brothers had more than three before they were twenty-one. She certainly wasn’t the one who forced their parents’ auto insurance rates to go up.
Truth be told, she had talked her way out of many more tickets. Was it her fault she was young, cute, and sassy?
“What do you know about Donnelly?” he asked. “Zach told me he was grabbed outside DEA headquarters four hours ago. I’ve been fucking fighting with SAPD all day to let me leave.”
“What do I need to know?”
He glared at her, then looked back out the window.
“You don’t know me well, but Brad asked me to help him with your case. No one else. Brad trusts me, you need to trust me.”
He turned to her and almost looked … amused. “Need?” Maybe if he hadn’t just spent most of the day being interviewed by SAPD he would have laughed.
“How about, you should trust me. I’ve been talking to Lucy—she’s the toughest person I know. Considering what she’s dealing with right now, she had a lot of great information.”
“Like?”
She realized Nate wasn’t going to trust her until she proved herself to him. So she told him what Lucy said about Elise Hunt, what Brad had wanted her to do, and that Zach was helping on the q.t.
He was thinking. He had a blank face, but he looked just like her brother Dave—who was career military—when he was deep in thought.
“Did you get the security footage outside DEA?”
“We looked at everything on our cameras, but Brad was grabbed out of range. We’re tracking down private security now. If Salter calls, I’m going to have to hightail it back to the office. But so far, nada.” She glanced at him, told him the rest. About the Merides brothers and the Saints and the shooting. “Mitts Vasquez had been a member of the Saints before it collapsed.” She explained why that was important, and that the Saints had worked for Nicole Rollins when she was still DEA. That it could be the connection to Elise Hunt that they needed.
“You have proof?”
“I have a theory based on the evidence. I see connections where other people don’t. I look at all the data and things just move into place. And my gut tells me the drugs stolen ten days ago are the same drugs that were found in your truck.”
“And you want to track down Vasquez.”
“Yes, but I really want to track down the Merides brothers because they have a greater incentive to talk.”
“Why the Merides?”
“They lost sixteen kilos of coke, and looking at the pictures from SAPD it hasn’t been cut yet—which means it’s probably worth a helluva lot more than a quarter mil.”
“They’re not going to talk to a couple of feds.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“You’re not going to waltz in and have them eating out of your hand because you bat your eyes or flash your dimples. You’ll get yourself killed. I can’t let you do that.”
“Let me?” She laughed as she smoothly passed a minivan that was doing a turtle’s pace. Damn driver was going to get rear-ended one of these days.
“Those aren’t my drugs and I’m not going to prison over this. SAPD are just being assholes.”
“Technically, they’re doing their job.”
He growled.
“Look—we need to find these people not just to prove that the drugs were taken from them, but to find Brad.”
“Now you lost me.”
“The Merides brothers know who stole from them. They’re looking for Vasquez as well. Whoever stole the drugs are most likely the same group of people who grabbed Brad—because if this is all orchestrated by Elise Hunt, that means that her people stole the drugs, planted them on you to take you out of the picture while Sean Rogan is in prison. Maybe to get you fired or arrested or hell if I know. And Brad is high on their list because he killed Rollins. Revenge? Maybe all this was planned as revenge on everyone who messed with the Hunt family.”
“You are up to speed.”
“I told you.” She weaved in and out of traffic—she loved driving, but she hated slow drivers.
“Why not kill Brad?” he wondered out loud. “They could have easily assassinated him right there.”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I said as much to Lucy and she got all quiet, then mumbled, ‘There’s always a reason.’”
Nate didn’t comment.
She pulled off the freeway into Olmos Park, where Lucy and Sean lived.
“Why isn’t Lucy in Houston?” Nate asked.
“The lawyer said she can’t see Sean until tomorrow.” She glanced at him; Nate was thinking again. She said, “In addition to figuring out where the drugs came from, I’ve been looking at how they got in your truck. I drove by your apartment—”
“How do you know where I live?” Damn, he sounded suspicious.
“Brad told me.” Not exactly true, but she’d gotten the information from Brad’s office, and knew that he wouldn’t mind that she did. Nate lived simply. He had a one-bedroom apartment in a borderline sketchy area of San Antonio that was convenient to FBI headquarters. “I didn’t see any security cameras.”
“There aren’t any.”
“Which tells me they easily could have planted the drugs right there. I took some pictures of your carport, and there’s a couple of apartments that have a good visual of it.”
“I know when they did it.”
“How?”
“My truck has an alarm. No one could have planted the drugs at my apartment, not to mention they would have made noise and I’m not a heavy sleeper. The carport is right under my bedroom window.”
“So where?”
“Tuesday. Three days ago. I woke up and noticed a semi-flat tire and a nail in the tread. I took it to a tire place near my apartment, Lucy picked me up there b
ecause we had a case. They replaced all four tires because I was due anyway. I didn’t think anything of it, but I’d never been there before. Yet, they couldn’t have known that’s where I would take my truck.”
“They followed you.”
“I don’t get followed.”
“You said it was near your apartment. They wouldn’t have been on your tail long. They could have put in a tracker. And they probably put the nail in your tire.”
He didn’t say anything.
“After Lucy’s, we’ll go over there. And I have a couple ideas where Mitts might be hiding out.
“I’ll take care of this. You don’t need to be involved.”
Now she was getting angry. “I am involved. Brad tasked me with clearing your name, I’m not going to let him down. And by tracing these drugs, we’ll be on the path to find Brad.”
“And you want to look for the gangbanger? Don’t you think that the Merides brothers will know where to look for him as well?”
“No. Because I’m not going to the obvious places. His ex-wife, his ex-girlfriend, any of the former Saints. He’s going someplace where the Merides won’t even think of looking for him.”
Nate didn’t say anything.
“I know you don’t trust me yet, but you will.”
“Oh?”
She pulled up in front of Lucy’s place and didn’t respond.
He would. When she proved herself.
That shouldn’t take long.
“And where are you going to look for Vasquez?” he asked.
“Come with me, and I’ll tell you.”
“No way in hell am I letting an analyst go out into the field, not dealing with these people.”
“What the fuck makes you think I’m an analyst?” she snapped. Then inwardly winced. If she was swearing that meant he had really gotten under her skin.
He looked at her. Really looked at her for the first time, she realized. In more than a security assessment kind of way.
“I’m a field agent, just like you, Agent Dunning. I just happen to be really good at analysis, which is a bonus as far as I’m concerned, making me an even more valuable field agent. And honestly, I don’t need your permission to investigate. Brad is my boss, he gave me the intel, and I’m going to follow through whether you come with me or not.”
* * *
Jack was angry. When he got angry, he didn’t yell, which somehow made it worse—except that Lucy wasn’t taking it from him.
“You should have stayed put,” he said.
She was sitting at Sean’s desk, alone. Garrett Lee was in the dining room working; Nate had texted her twenty minutes ago that he was on his way. And when Jack called, she’d hoped he’d found Kane and was on his way to San Antonio; unfortunately, they had lost the trail, but Ranger was out talking to a source.
What Lucy shouldn’t have done was tell him what she’d learned. Except that she’d wanted information, and that meant telling Jack what she knew.
“It was vital I find out everything about Elise Hunt that I can. You know she’s orchestrating this! But she can’t do it alone. She’s working with someone, but she didn’t have any visitors. I’m going to start looking at staff connections—”
“I told you not to leave the house.”
“Don’t talk to me as if you’re my father.”
“Dammit, Lucia!”
“Don’t coddle me, Jack.”
“You think that’s what I’m doing? Coddling you? I don’t want you dead. Sean is in jail and Brad Donnelly is missing. Why the fuck did you let him leave your place? He was safer there!”
She felt like Jack had punched her in the stomach.
“I told you to stick with him,” he continued. “You’re both at risk.”
She didn’t back down. “Donnelly is the ASAC of the DEA. You think he’s going to hide in my house all day because there’s a threat?”
“There was, and he’s probably dead.”
That hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he said, as if he could read her mind.
“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t apologize. You think he’s dead. Why?”
“I…” He paused, and she feared he had more information than she did. Then he said, “I think if they wanted him dead, they would have killed him on sight. It would be demoralizing to an office that has already endured a traitor who killed their boss. But I can’t think why they want him alive. He’s not going to talk.”
Lucy needed to think like the people who grabbed Brad, but she didn’t know who they were. And because she didn’t know, she might get Brad killed if she read the situation all wrong.
And Jack was right. If they wanted Brad dead, he’d be dead. So why? What did they need him for?
“I know you’re worried about Sean.” Jack’s tone softened. No one else, other than Lucy, would be able to pick up on that. “We need to be on the same page. I trust Garrett, but he’s not a bodyguard. You leave, you need to be with Nate until we know what we’re facing.”
“Garrett is good backup. I’m a trained FBI agent. I’m going to handle this—”
“Listen to me,” Jack interrupted. “Someone is taking out our team. Not killing—not yet at least—but taking us off the board. Sean. Nate. Brad. Kane. Even me because I’m down south looking for Kane. Our core. You’re part of the core. I need you to be smart here.”
“I am. I’m not reckless. You’re have to trust me.”
The alarm system beeped twice. Lucy looked at the security tablet she had open on Sean’s desk; Nate and Aggie were approaching the front door.
“Nate’s here. Let me know when you find Kane.”
“Lucy—”
“I love you, Jack.” She dropped the receiver in its cradle before Jack could say another word.
* * *
Ranger was watching Jack closely as they waited in a bar in Saltillo, Mexico. “Lock it down, Jack. We can’t afford for your focus to split.”
Jack didn’t say anything. He should be in San Antonio keeping his sister safe.
Ranger stared at him over the bottle of beer he’d been nursing for the last hour. “Buddy.”
“I’m fine.” Jack sipped his beer. They were waiting for Ranger’s contact. They had a lead, but needed to make sure it wasn’t a trap.
Hell, even if Ranger’s guy said they were clear, there was no trap, Jack didn’t know that he would believe it. The more he thought about Kane’s disappearance, the more he thought the hostage rescue had been a setup from the beginning. A way to get Kane south of the border. RCK had been tracking Peter Blair for years. A couple of times they’d almost gotten him, but he’d become much better at covering his tracks of late. They had no confirmed sightings—only rumors—and the only time they knew he’d moved anyone was after the fact.
He’d gotten so much better at being a criminal over time.
In fact, they had no recent intel, but everything aligned this week when they got an alert about seven girls who had been grabbed three weeks ago. They’d had the girls on their radar, hoping to find them before it was too late, and one had escaped. She’d gone right to a church, and the priest there was friends with the Sisters of Mercy. Everything made sense … except now, in hindsight, it was too easy.
Yes, they’d rescued the remaining girls. That was a win. But at what cost?
What if they had been the bait? There were people who would be happy to release a few girls—knowing they could get more whenever they wanted—if they could lure Kane Rogan into a trap.
“He’s here,” Ranger said, barely moving his lips.
Jack was suspicious, but Kane was still missing, and this was their single best lead.
Chapter Fifteen
Lucy understood Jack’s concerns, but she couldn’t hide in her house waiting for other people to find the truth about Mona Hill’s murder. The cops in charge thought Sean was guilty and they weren’t looking at anyone else.
By the time she stepped out of Sean’s office, Nate was already inside and Jesse
was running down the stairs.
“Nate!” Jesse hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’re going to help prove my dad didn’t do this, right?”
“Of course,” Nate said, though he was looking at Lucy.
Nate looked as worried as Jack had sounded.
Jesse stepped back. “You all want to talk and you don’t want me here.”
“That’s not it,” Lucy said. “We have to compare notes and decide our next step. Jess—I wish I could tell you not to worry. I hate this, and I’m doing everything I can to fix it.”
“I know. I—okay.” He patted his leg and Bandit, who was sitting next to Nate looking up at him adoringly, immediately went to Jesse’s side and followed him back upstairs.
“I’m going to wring that girl’s neck,” Lucy said as she watched Jesse leave. She didn’t have to explain that she was talking about Elise. Jesse had been through hell over the last two years and she hated that he was now scared about Sean’s fate.
Lucy made introductions to Garrett Lee. “He’s an investigator and attorney with the law firm who is representing Sean.”
She motioned for Aggie and Nate to sit down at the dining table. “Garrett, I need to be blunt with Nate right now. If you don’t want to be part of this, you need to leave.”
“I’m not leaving,” he said.
“You did your job—you were here for the warrant.”
“And are you going out tonight to track down that corrections officer?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll stay. I’ll help, as much as I can. Jack texted me not to let you out of the house. That I can’t do, but I can back you up.”
“Thank you.” She turned to Nate. “What happened at SAPD? Did they clear you?”
Cold as Ice Page 12
