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“Sure, I guess.”
“Thanks, Bart.”
With an odd parting glance, he left her to the notebook and files. And when she flipped back the cover on Tim’s old notebook, she saw the first date listed was the weekend they’d headed to Las Vegas.
On the blank inside cover, Bart had a post it note deciphering Tim’s shorthand. She found it immensely helpful and quickly had dates and times coordinated.
That first weekend in his notebook had been busy for the truck stop. It seemed Bart was right about the fleet accounts being the focus of Tim’s surveillance. She didn’t find an inciting moment, but as she reviewed the information, she realized Tim had refined his code from week one to week three.
Goosebumps scattered across her arms as it became obvious Tim had been focused on Mary Lou’s rig and one other license plate that was always in the area when she came through.
“Oh, no,” she whispered. It looked like Tim had gotten close to Mary Lou in order to figure out how deeply she was involved with the new drug runners. Up to her neck, Hannah realized, continuing to reconcile dates, fleet sales records, and Tim’s obsession with tomatoes.
It was a risk, but one she had to take. Pulling out the cell phone, she sent Eva a text message asking for her to run background on the new details. Hannah couldn’t risk making those calls on the wiretapped phone.
She heard the cashier page her over the intercom and turned down the radio before she picked up the phone. It was probably something business related.
“Patriot Plaza how can I help you?”
“Agent Thalberg?”
She tensed at the sound of her boss’s voice. “It’s Bartholomew now,” she said, sticking with the cover story she’d fabricated.Please let him believe whatever Eva planted in the Nevada records.
“First let me offer my congratulations.”
“Thank you, sir.” She owed Eva big time for pulling this off.
“Second.” He cleared his throat. “I have some bad news.”
“About the Gonzales case?”
“Yes. Your apartment was vandalized. When I saw the report, I went over to see for myself. To make sure you were okay. They destroyed everything you own, Hannah.”
She shivered, speechless. DeVries rarely called her by her first name and only when things were beyond bad. Struggling for any shred of professionalism, she asked about gang tags.
“Yes. The cartel’s signature is all over this. You know what it means.”
“They won’t stop until they have me.”
“You have to relocate and lay low for a while. For everyone’s safety.”
How dare he play that card now? She understood the logic, but she also understood the long reach of the cartel. Breaking the case and interrupting the supply line was her only way out of this. Unless and until the case was closed, she’d be forced to run. That was no life for her. No life for her child.
“Does anyone know Gonzales’s whereabouts?”
“No. Our informants place him at his house late last night, but several cars left in a rush and only two have returned.”
“They know we’re watching them,” she said.
“And vice-versa.”
“Understood.” She pressed her lips together. DeVries knew there was a wiretap on this phone. What wasn’t he telling her?
“I’ve notified the local office of potential trouble in the area.”
“Suter and Kellerman stopped by yesterday.”
“I saw they searched the victim’s workspace, correct?”
