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As the woman had indicated, the rental SUV was parked outside the door. A valet opened the passenger door for Breely and handed the key to Moe.
As they pulled away from the hotel, they swung around the front.
A limousine eased through the throng and stopped at the hotel entrance.
Breely swiveled in her seat as they passed.
The bodyguards had to physically move members of the press to the side to make a path for her father to get to the vehicle.
“How does he do it?” Breely mused. “Everywhere he goes, they’re in his face.”
“By keeping you at the ranch, maybe he was trying to spare you the hassle.”
Breely nodded. “That might have been some of it. For the past couple of years, he’s received a number of death threats.”
Moe frowned. “Do they know who’s issuing them?”
“Dad has contacts in the FBI and CIA. They say the threats are coming out of Central and South America.”
“Does your father have business dealings there?” Moe stopped at a traffic light.
“He has businesses all over the world. And yes, he has holdings in Mexico, Colombia and Venezuela.”
Moe glanced her way. “He’s received threats, but has anyone attempted to follow through on them?”
Breely nodded. “Six months ago, someone shot at his SUV when he was in Dallas for a shareholders meeting.”
“Dallas has its share of random drive-by shootings.”
“True,” Breely said. “The police found the vehicle the shooter used based on the license plate and description. It had been reported stolen a few hours earlier. Like you, the police called it a random drive-by.”
“Were they able to lift prints?” Moe asked.
She shook her head. “It had been wiped clean. Dad gave the police the benefit of the doubt and accepted their explanation.”
“But there’s more,” Moe stated.
“Yes. A month and a half ago, a bullet hit the windshield of Dad’s truck when he was driving into Kalispell. Missed his head by an inch, only because he leaned over to adjust the temperature.”
“Damn. Did they find the shooter that time?”
Breely shook her head. “No. The sheriff thought it might be someone hunting too close to the highway.”
“Could the sheriff be right?” Moe asked.
“It wasn’t hunting season,” Breely said.
“Montana’s like Texas,” Moe pointed out. “Everyone carries a gun. Maybe someone was shooting at a rattlesnake, and the bullet ricocheted off a rock.”
“Another coincidence?” Breely shook her head. “The death threats have been escalating over the past year. The day before his truck was hit, he’d gotten a warning. Stay out of places you don’t belong or suffer the consequences.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Moe maneuvered through Denver and out the east end, heading for the airport.
“I talked to Dad after the attack near Kalispell. He said there’s political unrest in Mexico, Colombia and Venezuela. He relies on local businessmen and politicians to monitor his interests and smooth the way.”
“That’s hard to do from Montana.”
“He’s made many trips to those countries and has men living there that he pays to maintain those relationships when he’s not there.”
