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With a nod, Bart turned his attention to the upper cabinets, while she finished the lower. It was a small kitchen, so they finished quickly and leaned back against opposite countertops.
“Did he have any security?”
Bart laughed. “What did he need with security? It’s nothing but trees and small wildlife out here. The only voice mail is the one I left for him this morning.”
She shrugged. “I’m surprised there isn’t any sign of the girlfriend around here.”
“Tim was never a slob, but I don’t think he would have changed much of anything to impress a woman. Too set in his ways.”
“Maybe.” She motioned him aside so she could escape the tiny kitchen. She wanted movement and forward progress on this case.
“What are you thinking?”
“The cartel is determined to break into the D.C. market. Their new mobile system is perfect for that goal and damned hard for us to track. They use anyone and anything and change it up at will.”
“You think they used Mary Lou?”
“Have you seen her lately?”
“No. But I’m not the one dating her.” He tipped his head toward the door. “Come on. Let’s take a look outside.”
She followed him, waiting near the picnic table while he locked up and returned the key to its hiding place. She could see theworn patches where Tim must have parked his car regularly, but there was no sign of a second vehicle.
They walked around the far end of the trailer and to the edge of the area Tim kept landscaped, then closer to the trees.
“I’m not seeing anything,” Bart grumbled. “Not even a partial boot print or broken twig.”
“What bothers me,” she said after they’d wandered a bit deeper into the tree line, “is why they dumped him on your doorstep.”
“Wasn’t my idea of a good time.” He kept moving forward into the trees. If he’d found a trail, he wasn’t sharing.
She let him help her over a fallen log. “We both think he knew something.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Killing him here would have been easier.”
“Shh.”
She glared daggers at his back, but kept her mouth shut while he concentrated on whatever he thought he was doing. They were several yards back from Tim’s trailer and the thick underbrush caught at her jeans and the laces of her shoes. Pausing between each step, she scanned the forest area to the left and back toward the trailer on the right.
Hannah sucked in a breath as her blood went cold. She tapped Bart on the shoulder. “Look.” She mouthed the word as she pointed toward the trailer. Someone from the cartel had painted their signature neon orange skull and crossbones on the back of Tim’s big outdoor grill.
“Maybe he was into something after all?”
A muscle twitched on Bart’s jaw. “I know my team. It’s gonna take more than some bad graffiti to convince me.”
Hannah nodded and patted his arm. “Good.” She used the new cell phone to get a picture. “There’s not much signal out here,”she muttered. “I want to email it to a friend when we get back to civilization.”
“That works.”
Hannah held the phone up and swiped at the screen. “The zoom is average, but it looks like fresh paint to me. That last swoop on the mouth looks like it’s still dripping.”
Bart didn’t answer. He’d heard a twig snap behind them a few seconds ago and didn’t want to tip off whatever, or more likely whoever, might be back there. “All right. Let’s head on back.” He shifted to block her view and guided her straight toward the trailer, hoping it was just a fat raccoon or opossum ambling around.
No such luck.
He felt the footfalls pounding closer and loud breaths followed by the brush of a coat against pine needles. Those were all the clues he needed to know they were in trouble. Shoving Hannah forward and down, he dropped to a crouch just as a baseball bat swung wildly through the air where his head had been a second ago.
