Against the Edge (The Raines of Wind Can - By Kat Martin Page 0,66

feet,” Trace said, shaking Ben’s hand.

“I’m surprised you stayed cooped up this long,” Jake added. He looked down at Claire. “I see you brought the brains of the operation.” Jake kissed her cheek.

“She didn’t give me any choice,” Ben said. But they all knew she wouldn’t be there if he hadn’t allowed it. He had never brought a woman into the office before.

“Maggie says hi,” Trace said to Claire.

“She’s really great, Trace. You’re a very lucky man.”

“And don’t I know it.” Trace turned to Ben. “So you’re back to work?”

He nodded. “We need to come up with a lead. If we don’t find one by the end of the day, we’re headed to Converse in the morning.”

Trace knew Ben had been working the white-supremacist angle. Jake was also up to speed on the case.

“You need any help you let us know,” Trace said. But he and Jake both had clients of their own, and at the moment, Sol’s talent was what he needed.

The kid cracked his knuckles. “Okay, let’s get started.” Following Sol across the beige carpet, they headed for his glass-enclosed office next to Trace’s.

Aside from the reception area where Annie worked, the main part of the office was open, with sturdy oak desks for the people who worked there. Pictures of Texas ranches hung on the dark green walls, with a few new landscapes added since Trace had married Maggie.

As they reached Sol’s office door, Ben flicked a glance at Claire. He had already warned her about the “don’t ask, don’t tell” rule that applied when any of them were working with Sol. It was a lot more productive that way.

“You ready?” Ben asked.

“You bet.” Her chin firmed as they walked into the office. She was on her game, he could see, and felt the rare urge to smile.

* * *

Ben tilted his head back, trying to work the kinks out of his neck. Looking over Sol’s shoulder at his computer had made a long day for all of them. Since they’d come up with nothing on Bridger, they’d decided to concentrate on Dennis Arthur “Duke” Hutchins. Though Hutchins was wanted for attempted murder, so far the police hadn’t been able to track him down.

There was no way to know if Hutchins and Bridger were still together, or if they’d parted company the night of the shooting. But wherever Duke was, odds were he knew where Bridger had gone.

They started from the beginning. Duke’s birth certificate said he was born in El Paso, no father listed. They looked for other family members he might have gone to for help, but his brother was in jail in Oklahoma and his mother had died of a heroin overdose when he was fifteen.

Since they were fairly sure Bridger was born in Louisiana, they skipped to Hutchins’s high school records. Sol found his El Paso High School yearbook posted online, and Claire spent twenty minutes scanning class photos, hoping to spot a young Troy Bridger—or whatever his name really was.

“He’s not there,” she said with a frustrated shake of her head. “I don’t think that’s where he and Bridger met.”

Ben didn’t think so, either.

In his senior year, Duke had dropped out of school and joined the army. Those records showed he’d been discharged a year later over a cache of missing weapons, no charges officially filed.

“If Troy had served in the army with Hutchins,” Claire said, “his prints would have been on file, right? We would have been able to find out his real name.”

Ben nodded. “That’s right.” But Bridger wasn’t in the system. “We’re thinking we might find someone else who knew Hutchins in the army, a friend he might have stayed in touch with, someone he might have gone to after the shooting.”

But the documents in his file portrayed him as a loner with no close friends.

“Where did Hutchins go after he was discharged?” Claire asked.

Sol pounded and clicked, watched the screen. “He went back to Texas, started working in the construction business in San Antonio.”

“That’s it,” Ben said. “That’s the link. Bridger was a crane operator. They must have worked together someplace in San Antonio.”

Sol dug into construction companies in the area ten to twelve years ago, about the time Hutchins would have been working there after his army discharge. Nothing turned up that linked the two men, but Ben was convinced that was where Bridger and Hutchins first met.

They looked at his prison file, searching for cell mate names. Someone who might be out of jail and willing