Elise’s laughter.
Chapter Twenty-one
SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS
Aggie acted far more confident than she felt as she explained to SAPD officers the events leading up to the murder of Mitts Vasquez. Fortunately, no one questioned Nate’s presence, and none of the cops who had searched his truck earlier were there—a different precinct coupled with a different shift. Nate even chatted with one of the cops he’d worked with in the past.
She stuck with her story that her boss, Brad Donnelly, had assigned her to locate Mitts Vasquez, who had an active SAPD warrant and Brad believed he had valuable information about drug shipments in the area for another case he was working. Observe and report, she said, call in if she spotted him. Yes, she knew that Donnelly was missing, but were they supposed to stop working? It was a potentially important case, and she didn’t want it to fall through the cracks.
No one questioned her. She didn’t lie about her interest in Aunt Rita, or the shooter coming out of the downstairs apartment—which they now knew was vacant—nor did she lie about Nate’s pursuit of said shooter. There was no reason to, and technically she didn’t really lie about her assignment. Brad had asked her to work on the drugs found in Nate’s truck, and the cops didn’t have to know that her stakeout of Mitts Vasquez was related to those drugs. Besides, that was her theory, one she hadn’t had a chance to share with Brad before he was taken.
By the time they were done and cleared to leave, it was after ten at night. She was tired and worried and starving even after all the snacks earlier. “Want me to drop you off at Lucy’s?” she asked Nate.
“You’re staying.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t think you should go home right now. If one of the players was staking out the apartment, they could have seen you, figured out you work with Brad, might go after you. Until we know what the hell is going on, we stay together. There’s plenty of room at Lucy’s house.”
Aggie didn’t think that was necessary, and she was about to argue with him, when he continued. “When the shit hits the fan,” Nate said, “we need everyone together and on the same page. Brad would have my hide if we didn’t put you under our protective wing.”
That irritated her. “I didn’t take you for a sexist, Nate.”
He stared at her so intensely that she almost stepped back. He looked genuinely insulted. “Lucy is a woman and my partner and I fucking respect her as much as anyone on the job. But we watch each other’s backs.”
She shouldn’t have said it. Nate was right. She’d seen no sign that he treated Lucy different than he treated Brad. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“Look, Aggie, we don’t know what’s going on. Vasquez was gunned down in front of us. He had answers; he’s never talking. Brad is missing. We have Sean in prison and who the fuck knows what’s going on with Kane and Jack right now. You’ve been making calls and talking to people, you’re in the middle of this now. Okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled. “Can we stop by my place so I can pick up a bag and feed my cat?”
“Sure.” Then he smiled, just a bit. “Cat?”
“I wanted a dog, but my work hours are crazy, and Solo came with the house. When I bought it, I realized the owners had left him behind.”
“Solo?”
“I’m a Star Wars fan, have a problem with that?”
“No, ma’am. Let’s go feed Solo the cat.”
* * *
An hour later, Lucy listened to Nate and Aggie report on their evening. The death of Vasquez hit her hard—whoever was orchestrating this … attack for lack of a better word … on her friends and family didn’t have any qualms about murder. Vasquez might have been a drug dealer and thief, but he’d been killed because of what he knew.
Which meant Brad Donnelly was in grave danger. The same people had him, and they wouldn’t think twice about killing him when they were done with him.
You have to accept the fact that Brad might be dead. Just because they didn’t kill him in the street doesn’t mean they didn’t kill him later.
Why take Brad in the first place? Why plant the drugs on Nate? Nate should be able to get out of it … he had no history of drug use and his record was clear. Decorated veteran, established FBI agent, SWAT