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Paul shook his head. “I hope you’re doing the right thing.” He glanced at his watch, then stood up. “The Dallas division is already researching past cases for any leads on this guy. I’ll keep in touch.”
“Thanks.” With a sigh, Zach eased back against the pillow and tried to drift into the soft, welcoming darkness of sleep.
Instead, he lay awake long into the night, his mind racing through fractured images of explosions and blood and visions of his sister Janet screaming his name, begging for help.
But the images that tore at his heart were those of a frightened little girl who might never see her mother again.
* * * *
THE NEXT FOUR WEEKS passed in a blur of pain and anxiety. Unwilling to risk Katie’s safety by being drowsy, less alert, he didn’t dare take his pain meds.
The days were long and the nights even longer.
They’d rarely spent more than two nights in one place, moving from Mesquite to Richardson, Fort Worth to a secluded cabin along Lake Texoma, and a dozen forgettable little motels in between.
But every time they moved to a new location, another threatening note appeared within twenty-four hours. Slipped under a motel room door. Or propped in the window of a small rental cabin in the back of beyond.
Always in a bright green envelope, with the same message—plus a chilling new addition. “I owe you, pal. You and your kid are going to die.”
Katie mostly watched Zach silently and clung to her doll, night and day. He had little experience with small children and she probably knew it, staring at him with those wary eyes, never cracking even the beginnings of a smile. That he could understand.
But the fact that she never cried, never showed any other emotion, was almost spooky.
He bought children’s videos, books, and small toys. But she just held on to her tattered doll and sat close to the door or near a window where she watched in vain for her mother’s return.
The fact they were being stalked surely made it all the harder for her.
She had to notice that Zach lingered at the windows, and she had surely picked up on his watchfulness and tension. He figured she had, because she seemed to melt into herself a little more each day, as if she wanted to simply disappear.
Alone, Zach had always dealt with any threats with cool determination. With Katie to protect, the situation was much more difficult.
Every move to a new location was made in the dark of night, and he drove for hours to mask their trail. It didn’t matter—the messages still arrived. And after he insisted on twenty-four-hour surveillance, the envelopes started coming by mail if he stayed in a location more than two days, postmarked from post offices throughout the metropolitan area.
He’d always had good working relationships with the other Special Agents working out of the Dallas office, but he’d shared his personal life with just a few close friends and barely knew his neighbors at the condo complex. So how did El Cazador find him in the first place—and why?
Someone very close to him was involved, maybe even someone at work, unless this stalker was watching him night and day. Even now, in an isolated mom-and-pop motel outside Duncanville, he felt the hair at the back of his neck prickle.
Worse, he still couldn’t remember a thing from the day of the bombing. If he could just recall something...an unfamiliar face, a car idling on the street nearby...
The sharp voice on the phone brought Zach back to the present.
“...you need to rest, so your injuries can heal,” his boss continued irritably, “or you’ll be back to square one. You could even end up with medical retirement. Why take that chance?”
Zach gripped the receiver tighter. “I’ll be back in two weeks, easy.”
“No. You won’t be passing medical clearance for duty anytime soon.”
“But I’m perfectly—”
“Look, you haven’t taken a vacation in years, and you’ve been involved in some rough undercover operations. You’re burning out, and it’s time you got out of here for a while. How can you rest and heal when you’re constantly on the move?”
“But—”
“You worry me, Zach. You’ve put yourself on the line far too many times over the past few years. Taken risks you shouldn’t have.”
“That’s my job,” Zach snapped. His single-minded pursuit of the drug traffickers who’d caused such personal heartbreak for so many families—including his own—was his one mission in life. And who else could do it better? He could afford the risks—he didn’t have a wife and family at home.
“It’s time you had some distance. As of today, you’re on a three-month medical leave.”
