“Vienna. Long story, and it’s unimportant. He got this gig with DEA, hoping it’d lead to a permanent position. So now we have the connection between Robby and Guevara. That’d explain Ian Wirth’s address in Guevara’s house, in Robby’s handwriting. Robby was probably helping Guevara at that point. Maybe it was a test. I don’t know—I don’t know if we’ll ever know. But you’ve got to find Guevara. Before it’s too late.”
“I’m turning the car around right now. We’ll check Superior first.”
“There’s still not enough for a warrant, so you’re going to need to grab him up and take him somewhere.” Vail realized she was on an open cell connection—but there was no time. Robby’s life was of paramount concern. If she lost her career but saved him, it’d be worth it. Then again, if she lost her career and he turned up dead—no, I can’t think that way. He’s alive. He’s alive.
“I’m texting Mann,” Brix said. “Get him over to Guevara’s house. Just in case.”
“One thing you should know,” Vail said. “Robby and Sebastian missed their last three check-ins with their DEA case agent. And Guevara left a voice mail for me a little while ago that said Robby was dead. He made it sound like he wasn’t responsible, but that he knew who was.”
“Don’t believe that scumbag,” Dixon said. “If he’s got information, we’ll get it.”
“Thanks, guys.”
“Hang in there,” Brix said. “We’ll be in touch.”
Vail looked up. DeSantos was ending his call. “C’mon. We’ve got a meet with a guy who’s gonna get some info for us.”
“Who is he?”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell. Best that way.”
Vail pulled herself up from the steps. “If he’s got the info we need, I couldn’t give a shit who he is.”
47
Dixon took the turn too fast, and the car dovetailed. Brix grabbed the dashboard with his right hand but couldn’t keep his shoulder from pushing up against the door.
“Sorry,” Dixon said. “Make sure your seat belt’s fastened because I don’t intend on going the speed limit.”
“How hard do you want to push this?”
“I intend on coming away with answers, Redd. Simple as that. This guy’s wrapped up in this. He might’ve had something to do with the Lugo kidnapping. He may’ve had something to do with aiding John Mayfield. And he apparently has something to do with Robby’s disappearance. I don’t plan on giving him a Coke and a slice of lime and treating him like he’s at a spa.”
But Dixon was well aware that Brix had recently given her and Vail a hard time about entering César Guevara’s home without a warrant. Now she was expecting Brix to join her in leaping off the career-ending legal precipice with her.
“Once we cross this line,” he said, “there’s no going back.”
Dixon took a quick glance in Brix’s direction. Their eyes locked. A silent answer.
They pulled onto the street where Superior Mobile Bottling was located. “It’s 7:00 AM,” Brix said. “I doubt he’s here.”
“He gets to his office every morning at 7:15,” Dixon said, pulling into the adjacent parking lot. She slid the car into a slot behind the building, hidden from the street. “Up ahead, by that brick wall,” she said, pointing. “We’ll have a view of the front entrance and the side driveway. We’ll be able to see him when he arrives, but he won’t see us.”
Brix nodded and then followed Dixon on foot to their perch. The air was crisp and the sky was brightening to their left, in the east.
The time ticked by without activity. Finally, at 7:40 AM, Dixon sat down on the ground, her back against the brick wall.
“What do you think?” Brix asked.
“I don’t know. My source only knew what time he came in each day. I don’t know how prompt he usually is.” Dixon pulled her phone, called Austin Mann. “Anything?”
“House is dark. By now I’d think someone’d be awake and moving around. I’ve got the front, Gordon’s got the back, and I’ve got two other guys from NSIB placed at various other points of interest. Nobody’s seen anything.”
“Guevara’s usually at his office by 7:15,” Dixon said. “It’s possible he’s out of town. If he is, that’d be very convenient timing.”
“You want us to go up and knock?” Mann asked.
Dixon thought about that. “No, let’s give it a little longer. Maybe he’s running late. I’d rather take him at his office. There isn’t a whole lot around here. But in a residential neighborhood . . . lots of potential eyes and ears.”
“Okay,” Mann said. “We sit and wait.”
48
Vail followed DeSantos to his car, a low-slung black Corvette.
“You’re kidding me,” Vail said.
“What?”
“You want me to drive around in that?” She wiggled a finger at the highly polished sports car. “I have claustrophobia. Let’s take my Ford.”
DeSantos unlocked the Vette. “I don’t ride in Fords. Get in, you’ll be fine.”
And a moment later, they were speeding out of the lot, en route to I-95.
Vail looked around. She was sitting lower than she had ever sat in a car. But so far, there was no crushing anxiety. Her psyche was probably so overworked with stress from Robby’s situation that it had nothing left to give. Take your mind off it and you’ll be fine.
A spark of sunlight glinted off the highly polished chrome of DeSantos’s stylish watch band. “Is that a bicycle chain you’re wearing?” She nodded at the timepiece on his wrist. “Your watch.”
“It’s a Dēmos. Same one the president wears.”
Vail twisted her lips. “And you would know that, how?”
DeSantos frowned. “You’ll soon learn not to ask me questions like that.” He gunned the accelerator and they rocketed across three lanes of traffic to the far left of the interstate.
Vail felt her stomach vault into the backseat and she reached out for something—anything—to grab onto. Perhaps she got too comfortable in this vehicle too soon. She licked her lips, trying to restore moisture to her suddenly dry mouth. “This guy you’ve hooked us up with. Who is he? I don’t like going into any situation blindly, let alone a meet with a CI.”
“He’s not a CI,” DeSantos said. “He works for DEA. Let’s just say he has access to files and information. That’s how I got what I got that led me to Gifford.”
“And I’m not supposed to know any of this.”
“If you did know it, he’d have to kill you.”
At the moment, Vail did not find that funny. And despite both Gifford’s and DeSantos’s admonitions, she did feel responsible for blowing Robby’s cover. Dammit, if he had just trusted me, if he had just confided in me and told me he had a mission and that he’d be gone awhile. What would the harm have been?P
“You went quiet on me,” DeSantos said. “Where were you just now?” Vail turned toward her window. “Nowhere.”
“Bullshit. You were thinking about Robby. You feel guilty.”
Vail did not respond.
“For all we know,” DeSantos said, “he’s fine and lying low until it’s safe to resurface. He could’ve talked his way out of it.”
“Anything’s possible,” Vail said. “Either way, I’m going to find him. And if something’s happened to him, I’m going to find whoever’s responsible. I can be a real bitch when I’m crossed.”
“You understand he had to leave without you knowing. He couldn’t tell you.”
“No, I don’t understand any of that. What I understand is that he lied to me. I kissed him good-bye in the morning and he told me he’d see me later that evening. But he had no intention of seeing me, did he?”