if she could handle herself, because he was grooming her to take my old position so I could be promoted. He killed Suárez and needed a new second.”
“You’ve been acting as one of his lieutenants for how long?”
“He had someone watching over me for two months after he brought me into the fold, and I’ve been independent for the last eight.”
“Altogether almost two years of this, then,” I said sadly. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s hard to stay focused and grounded when you’re living a stranger’s life,” she told me. “Once I reported what had happened, and it was decided that I would stay embedded with the cartel, I saw my contact every three months or so, because at first Murray was paranoid and, as I said, had me under constant surveillance. It wasn’t long, though, that he started relying on me so heavily that we were together almost constantly, which made it impossible to get free to meet with anyone.”
“But when you did, did you hand off evidence?”
“Yes. But the last time I spoke to Agent Rojas, he said that we needed to get out of Sinaloa, so he gave me an address and told me to meet him the following day. When I got there, though, he wasn’t there. Later I found out that he was killed in an FBI raid.”
At which point Ella had no idea what to do. She had no contact with the DEA, and the FBI had killed her handler, who was himself a DEA special agent, so it followed that she could have been killed as well. With nowhere and no one to turn to, and having no idea who to trust, when Murray tapped her to come make a deal for the return of Lane Stanton, she jumped at the chance to come to the US, hoping she’d get the chance to run. But she was, again, just like in Mexico, never alone, and everything had gone downhill fast.
“And then I got out of the car,” she said, easing out of my hold, sitting up and turning to look at me. “Holy shit, Croy, what the hell are you doing in Las Vegas?”
I tipped my head. “It’s a really long story, and right now everyone is much more interested in you.”
“God help you if you try and leave me,” she warned, scowling for emphasis.
“No,” I agreed.
“You know—” She paused to make sure she had my full attention. “I tried tracking you down once, about a year ago, but my resources and privacy were both limited by then. I was being watched and didn’t want to compromise myself… Looking back, it was probably a stupid risk, but I asked my contact to try and get a message to Croy Graves for me. I knew it’d take longer, giving him your family name, but I didn’t want to lay an easy trail to you since I never knew who might be listening.”
“Your last name is Graves?” Dallas asked me.
“No, it’s not,” I assured him. “It’s Esca.” To Ella I said, “Once we get you a new phone, I’ll put my number in there for you.”
“And you’re going to explain yourself and what’s been going on in your life in great detail.”
“Yes, I will.”
“Okay,” she said, taking a breath. “Good. And don’t leave again.”
“I won’t,” I promised and then looked at Dallas. “I won’t leave.”
“You do that?” Dallas asked cautiously. “You just disappear?”
“No. Not anymore.”
“You swear?” Ella chimed in.
“I do,” I said, looking first at her and then turning to Dallas. “I swear.”
“These are promises you’re making,” Dallas pointed out.
“Without question,” I assured him as Ella sagged into my side.
Thirteen
Lane Stanton did not know much. She’d been visiting friends, as we knew, when she was kidnapped by Suárez. She spent a couple days with him and was then taken into custody by the DEA, or so she thought, and stashed in a villa that she soon realized was nothing more than a luxury prison complete with a butler, a maid, and a cook. When Ella had arrived to escort her to Vegas, Lane had wept tears of joy. From her standpoint, Ella was her liberator. She was being flown to a safe house the following day, to be with her family until Andrew Murray was captured and his organization no longer a threat. But at the moment, she was sitting at the FBI field office with Brig and Eric, making a full confession to her brother as she was debriefed by Montez and two other FBI and