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“What do you mean?” Carson demanded. He didn’t even have to ask who Smith was talking about. They’d had Victor Munoz under surveillance since he’d left Rocky Lake.
“He’s not at his house in the city, the apartment, and he hasn’t crossed back into Mexico as far as we can tell,” Smith answered. “The last sighting our men have on him was on Thursday.”
“Shit,” Carson spat. “He could be anywhere.”
“With all the wars, he’s starting it makes since for him to disappear. He has the Italians, Russians, and Irish after him plus a couple of motorcycle gangs. He’s hit them all and we still don’t know who killed his nephew.”
“He’s unraveled. He isn’t thinking straight.” Carson blew out a frustrated growl. While he didn’t mind the bad guys taking out other bad guys, it was the innocent civilians that were caught in the crossfire too often.
“Exactly. He’s not going to make it out of this alive and I think he knows it.”
Could that be right? Not that Carson would shed a tear if Munoz met his end. At one time Carson had wanted to take Munoz out with his own hands but that hadn’t been in the cards. He’d had to walk away or would have lost everything he’d ever worked for.
It hadn’t been an easy decision to leave his men and life behind but, in the end, Carson had done what was necessary.
“Where would he go?”
Smith’s voice drew Carson away from his own thoughts. “I don’t know.” He hated having to admit that.
“I feel like he’s still in town,” Smith admitted.
“Why?” Carson wasn’t questioning Smith’s feelings but wanted the detective to talk it out.
“Jesse Lambert,” Smith said.
“The casino owner? What about him?” Carson asked.
“He outbid Munoz on several projects and his casino has been the most successful new addition to the Strip in decades. I can see how Munoz would be bitter about that.”
“Trust your gut,” Carson advised.
“Yeah,” Smith responded quietly. “I know he’s still here.” He cleared his throat and sounded much better. “Thanks L.T. I just needed to talk it out.”
“I’ll always be here to give you someone to talk to. Get some rest. Get a healthy meal. You got this.”
“Yeah, I’m going to call Remy. Thanks.”
The call disconnected and Carson shook his head. Eric Smith was a good detective, but he was a hard man to get to know personally. It had taken Carson years to get through Smith’s tough skin and finally reach the man. Smith was all about the job but now that he had his little brother home, Carson hoped that Smith was learning to balance his time better.
He looked up as Lincoln stalked into his office with his phone to his ear. He snapped his fingers and pointed toward the flat-screen television in the corner of Carson’s office.
It took a minute to find the remote as Carson couldn’t remember ever turning on the screen, but he hit the Power button and the channel was already on the news.
“Thanks, baby. I’ll call you later,” Lincoln said quietly but Carson’s attention was already on the man speaking at a press conference.
Carson pressed the volume level higher.
“If the recent crime wave shows anything, it is that our world is paying for our past sins. Too long have we allowed the wretched and wicked to go unchecked. I vow to use all my resources to ensure the righteous citizens are protected.”
“I thought he was a politician, not a preacher any longer,” Lincoln said with a growl.
Carson snorted. It was difficult to watch the tall pale man on the screen and know that he was the father of Sam. There was hardly any resemblance between the father and son. Ice-cold blue eyes stared into the screen while Senator Stewart spoke in a sharp and nasal tone.
“The city of Las Vegas is burning, and I say we let it burn!”Senator Stewart lifted a fist and pumped his arm.
“Did he really just say that?” Lincoln asked in shock.
“That’s…” Carson shook his head. How could any elected figure say something so horrible. Innocent people were being hurt and killed.
