to them … just do it.”
She ended the call. If anything happened to them it would be on her, because she was the one who blew it. She’d never forgive herself. Those two kids were the only truly good things she’d accomplished in her life. And Bill … well, he was a good man. Not perfect, too cautious in everything he did, but a good father. He would take care of them whether she was dead or in prison.
Erica didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to go to prison. But if she was going to avoid both, she had to survive the rest of the day.
Chapter Thirty-four
COMAL COUNTY, TEXAS
Aggie was more nervous than Nate that they were outside Bexar County. SAPD specifically told Nate that he couldn’t leave the county, and Nate had agreed to abide by the terms. They could actually arrest him now. But Nate wasn’t concerned. He couldn’t be now that they had a real lead on the people who planted the drugs in his truck. The people who could lead them to Elise Hunt.
“What if we’re being followed?” she asked.
“We’re not.”
“But SAPD was sitting outside Lucy’s all night.”
“They’re still there.”
He’d checked with Leo every hour since they’d left. All was well, but how long would that last? He’d read the news—Sean was in serious shit—but Nate had always been the type of cop to focus on the facts and immediate situation. Lucy had keen intuition—that “gut” that a lot of cops talked about. Nate didn’t. He had a strong sense of security issues—he could walk into any room and immediately assess the threat level, know every escape route, and exactly where he would take cover if someone started shooting. But that wasn’t the same as understanding criminal psychology. Nate didn’t understand why people did the shit they did. He understood soldiers—fighting for a cause, fighting for your country, protecting the innocent—he just didn’t understand how some people hurt others for no fucking reason.
It made him double down on his commitment to not bring children into the world. He’d lost friends, he’d lost people he cared about. And now his best friend was at great risk and he couldn’t do anything about it—except find Elise Hunt.
But he wasn’t going to let the damn SAPD and this phony drug seizure stop him from finding the bitch who set it all up. He was only five miles as the crow flies across the county border.
“Nate,” Aggie said, “this is serious. You could permanently lose your badge. You could be prosecuted.”
“I’m willing to take that risk. Nothing you say is going to change my mind, so stop trying.”
They were parked on a long road off Highway 46 north of San Antonio, somewhere between Boerne and Spring Valley. The houses were spread out, everyone had some land—two, five, twenty acres. There were a lot of horses, too; the terrain was greener as the elevation rose. Nate liked the Hill Country. He wouldn’t mind getting a place out of town—his apartment was functional, but he’d rented it three and a half years ago when he was assigned to the San Antonio office, and he rarely spent time there. It was a place to sleep. He spent more waking hours at Sean and Lucy’s.
Nate had been conflicted about whether he would stay in the FBI. On the one hand, Leo Proctor was only a few years from retirement and had already talked to Nate about taking over leadership of the SWAT team. San Antonio had one of the best-trained FBI SWAT units in the state, and Nate would be honored to lead them and build on what Leo had started. That would mean staying and maybe buying a house. But on the other hand, he never quite felt like he fit into the office. He kept waiting for something else, but he couldn’t quite define it. Partly it was that he missed his old unit, the men and women he’d worked with, fought with, laughed with. Partly because he was still there, in the past. It was hard to explain to anyone who had not served, especially for the length of time he had.
Having Jack and Kane around really helped, he realized.
Maybe he should focus on making a future here, not thinking about the past, not thinking about moving on. And if he were going to buy a place, he’d buy somewhere up here, out of town. Have a little space. Get a couple of dogs.
Violating direct orders not to leave Bexar