weapon, then called Jack on his cell phone as he exited the building and headed toward the parking garage.
“I’m at the safe house,” Jack answered. “No word on Kane, but Ranger has some intel we need to verify.”
“I’m leaving court now to pick up Jesse. He doesn’t know yet, right?”
“No. Tell him the truth, no sugarcoating it, but tell him we’re on top of it. Lucy’s on edge, but she’ll pull it together. She’ll want to go to Houston, and I need you to stick to Jesse like glue until we know that this isn’t a trap or setup. Did Sean talk to you about Elise Hunt?”
“No,” Nate said. That bothered him. Sean usually confided in him about anything security related. Sometimes for help, sometimes just for a sounding board.
“Anything else odd or out of the ordinary?”
“Actually, yes. On Tuesday he texted me for Ryan’s cell phone number. I didn’t think much of it, but now I wonder why he didn’t just ask Lucy.”
“Ryan Quiroz?”
“He’s the SSA up in Austin, but he partnered with Lucy the first year she was here.”
“Sean didn’t say why?”
“No.”
“Can you think of a reason?”
“Ryan used to be a cop in Houston, before he joined the FBI. He was born and raised there. But I don’t know why he’d call Ryan for help and not just ask me.”
Nate walked up the stairs to the third floor where he’d parked.
“Sean has a reason for everything, so don’t take it personally,” Jack said. “I’m going dark in a few; call Ryan, follow up, find out what Sean was thinking. Ryan might not know, but it’ll give us one more piece to the puzzle. If you need anything, call JT.”
Nate stopped at the top of the stairs. Three SAPD squad cars were parked around his truck, including a K-9 unit.
“Dunning, you there?”
“Something’s wrong.”
“Talk to me.”
“Six cops and a K-9 unit are searching my truck. I have to go.”
He ended the call and walked over to the group of cops and showed his badge. “FBI Special Agent Nate Dunning. What’s going on?”
Nate only recognized one of the cops by sight, but couldn’t remember his name.
“That’s my truck. Where’s your warrant?”
“I’m Sergeant Warren,” the officer in charge said as he approached. “This is city property, and our K-9 unit hit on your truck during rounds this morning. We ran the plates, tried to reach you, but there was no answer.”
Bullshit, Nate thought. He didn’t have any missed calls from a number he didn’t recognize. “Out of my truck. Now.”
This was all wrong. Nate didn’t believe in coincidences, and the fact that his car was being searched the same day that his best friend had been arrested for murder told him that this was somehow related.
“Sadie, our German shepherd here, responded to your truck. You have a joint or something, I honestly don’t give a shit, you take that up with your office. But this isn’t a joint.”
“And how the hell do you know that?”
He knew something—Nate could see it in his eyes—but he didn’t respond.
“Got something, Sarge,” one of the officers said. Warren started back toward Nate’s truck, and Nate followed, then Warren turned and said, “Stay there, Agent Dunning.”
Warren motioned for two officers to stand with him. One was the familiar cop—a glance at his name plate reminded Nate who he was. Williams. Jeff Williams. He’d been friends with Ryan, they’d gone for drinks a couple times when Nate was a rookie, but Nate hadn’t seen him since Ryan transferred to Austin. Williams looked sheepish, but didn’t say anything.
“I’m calling my office,” Nate said and hit one of his speed dial numbers. Neither cop stopped him.
He called Zach Charles, the squad analyst. “Zach, I need Rachel now.”
“On it.”
A few seconds later, Rachel answered. “Nate?”
“SAPD is searching my truck at the courthouse. They claim a drug dog reacted to it.”
“Who’s in charge?”
“Sergeant Warren.”
“Stay there. I’ll find out what’s going on.”
The officer standing next to Williams smirked. Nate stared him down as he ended the call. The smirk disappeared.
“Holy shit,” one of the cops said.
Nate made a move toward his truck to see what they’d found, but the formerly smirking cop put his hand up.
The cop searching Nate’s truck held up a package that appeared to be a kilo of something. The plastic wasn’t see-through, but the shape and form—Nate knew exactly what it was.
Someone was setting him up.
Just like someone set Sean up.
“There’s sixteen of these bad boys under the lining,” the officer said.
Sergeant Warren came over. “Your truck, Agent Dunning.”