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“Then let’s hope I’m wrong.” Keegan nodded. “Now go and find these damn money launderers.”
I rose, eyeing Keegan warily. He was generally pretty laid back, but not today.
Viv leaned in close. “Apparently, he’s getting pressure from higher up.”
“Right.” We filed out of the conference room. “You think we have a leak?”
Viv’s face turned serious. “I hope not.”
If I was being honest, I hadn’t given the meeting my full attention. My body was still buzzing from my lunch with Kavner yesterday.
Tingling from the best orgasm I’d had in a long time. Not to mention the fact that I’d sucked Kavner’s cock. My belly clenched.
God, standing in the middle of the office was not the time to think about this.
“London, are you okay?” Viv eyed me. “You look flushed.”
“I’m fine.” I headed back to my desk. I’d put out feelers about Cade Benard and Platinum Export. I was grateful Kavner had passed on his name. I tapped my fingers on the wooden surface of my desk. I needed some solid proof to tie Platinum Holdings and Platinum Export to the Accosta cartel.
Before Agent Keegan had a stroke.
I was getting close. I could feel it.
My phone rang and I snatched it up. “Coleman.” There was no sound, just raspy breathing.
I sat back in my chair. “Hello? Do you have information for me?”
I heard a nervous swallow. “Area Twenty-Seven. Port of New Orleans. Go there, now.” Another ragged breath. “You’ll find what you need on Platinum Export.”
The line went dead.
Who was that? Adrenaline shot through me. Something was going down now. Maybe goods were being moved? Maybe Cade Bernard was there? Hell, maybe I could actually catch some Accosta cartel members in the act?
Or maybe it was nothing.
Too many tips hadn’t panned out. I needed to be cautious.
I rose and headed over to Viv’s office. “I’m heading to the port to check out a lead.”
“You want company?”
“No. My gut says it’s probably nothing, but I need to check it out.”
“Good luck.”
I headed downstairs to check out another FBI vehicle when my cellphone rang again. “Coleman.”
“Agent Coleman, this is Ted out at the front gate. Someone just dropped your car off.”
“My personal car?”
“Yes.”
I blinked. “Okay. I’m on my way.”
When I stepped out of the front gate, I blinked at my red Honda Civic. My perfectly pristine Civic.
I circled it. There were no bullet holes, the windows were intact, and it looked like it had a new set of tires. I unlocked it and saw a folded piece of paper on the driver’s seat.
