Agent Cowboy. Debra Webb
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way, in his own time and always one step ahead of even his sharpest peer.
The senator looked from Lucas to Victoria and back.
“You may speak freely,” she said before he could say what she felt certain he was thinking. “Don’t doubt the loyalties of either of these men.”
Bill nodded. “Of course.” He fingered the stem of his glass a moment before beginning. “I’m sure you’re aware that most states have their drug issues, those that border other countries in particular.”
She nodded. She was very much aware of the drug situation in Texas, especially along the border of Mexico where traffickers used the wide-open space to their advantage. It was nearly impossible to cover all those miles with any real efficiency.
The senator cleared his throat and continued. “I have reason to believe that the Texas drug cartel extends very high in the political hierarchy of the state.”
Victoria lifted a skeptical brow. “How high?” Uneasiness crept over her. Whenever one politician accused another there was always a question of motivation. Bill Lester was a fine man, but he was only human.
“The governor’s office.”
After sipping her wine she set her glass aside. “If I recall,” she said cautiously, not wanting to put him on the defensive, “this is the same governor with whom you have openly exchanged heated words in the past?” She’d put it as delicately as she could. The truth was, Senator William Lester and Governor George Vann had been at each other’s throats for years. The two men openly despised each other and the whole world knew it.
“One and the same,” he admitted. “But this is different. I’m trying to keep my suspicions to myself until I’m certain.”
“You think the governor is enabling the cartel in some way?” Lucas tossed out. “Turning a blind eye here and there perhaps?”
“That and possibly more,” Bill explained. “Now it appears the FBI may even be involved.”
“In what way?” Ian wanted to know. He was a former U.S. marshal himself, and his wife had been an FBI agent for many years, so his reservations were understandable.
Bill loosened his tie. “Raymond Jarvis operated a small financial consulting and investment firm in Houston. I’ve known him for years. Considered him a friend. He came to me about two months ago and expressed concern regarding one of his new clients. Though neither of us could be sure if this client was connected to the cartel, we both worried that it was a major possibility. Ray was running scared. He felt certain this client was using him to launder drug money. He wanted me to help him.” The senator looked pointedly at Victoria. “Considering my history with the governor, whatever goes down where he is concerned needs to come from some other source. Otherwise, he’ll insist that I had a hand in making him look bad. I can’t risk the truth being overlooked because I was involved in bringing his wrongdoing to light. I suggested that Ray contact the FBI and go from there.”
“Did he take your advice?” Victoria had a feeling the man had, which accounted for the senator’s suspicions where the Bureau was concerned.
“About one month ago Ray told me that he was working with an agent. He seemed relieved so I left it at that. He said he’d keep me posted.” He rubbed his forehead and released a heavy sigh. “Last evening someone entered Ray’s office and killed him, his assistant and the FBI agent who’d been working with him.”
Victoria and Ian exchanged a look.
“Do the police have any leads?” Lucas inquired.
The senator shook his head. “Not yet. Nothing appears to have been touched. We have no way of being certain if anything was taken since the two people who worked at the office, Ray and his assistant, were both murdered.”
“And the agent,” Ian asked next, “had he left any reports or evidence he’d gathered regarding Raymond Jarvis’s claim? Perhaps he had discussed the case with a fellow agent.”
“That’s the really strange part. There is no indication whatsoever that the agent had ever even met with Ray before. The only thing connecting him is his presence at the scene and an envelope with Ray’s company logo on it. The envelope contained twenty-five thousand dollars in cash. The homicide detectives discovered it in the agent’s jacket pocket. You can imagine the conclusion those in charge of the investigation have drawn.”
“Convenient,” Lucas commented.
“My thinking exactly,” Bill agreed.
“What do you need from the Colby Agency?” Victoria ventured, cutting to the chase.
“I’m sure the authorities will do what they can. The Bureau is coordinating their investigation with the locals. But, considering this turn of events with the Bureau, I’m not sure I can count on the normal channels of law enforcement. I owe it to Ray to find out what happened. To do that I need the best.” His gaze settled on Victoria’s. “Your agency is the best. I want you to find out what went wrong. Why Ray and his assistant are dead and why an FBI agent with an outstanding record is not only dead but suspected of having taken a bribe.”
“Trent Tucker comes to mind,” Victoria said to Ian. “He grew up in Texas. Used to be a bounty hunter there. I’m certain he would be the best man for the job.”
“I’ll call him at home and brief him on the situation,” Ian added. He turned to the senator. “We’re going to need access to any resources at your disposal. Copies of the detectives’ reports. Forensics assessments.”
“I can get anything you need,” the senator told him. “Tell Mr. Tucker I’ll provide a copy of whatever the police have on the case.”
After settling on the final arrangements, Victoria and Lucas saw their visitors to the door.
“Thanks again, Victoria,” Bill said solemnly. “I knew I could count on the Colby Agency for top-notch work and discretion.”
Once Ian and the senator had gone, Lucas closed and locked the door behind them. He leaned against it then and allowed the weight of his gaze to rest upon Victoria.
“You promised me this additional time,” he reminded.
“I did,” she acquiesced.
“Fair enough.”
Though she knew Lucas was only concerned for her welfare, the gravity of his last comment had felt very much like a warning. And yet she sensed it was not. He only wanted the best for her. Lucas Camp would go to any lengths to protect her.
Dread trickled through her. He had to know something to be playing out this scenario so doggedly. And whatever it was, it could not be good.
Galveston, Texas
Saturday, 4:30 p.m.
KELLY HUDDLED in the shower stall beneath the hot spray of water and still it did nothing to make her feel warm again. She kept seeing the blood soak through the white silk of Ann’s blouse. Kept seeing the third eye someone had given Ray. And the man who’d been in his office—she shuddered—the whole back of his head had been blown off.
Stuff like that happened on television…to other people. Not to quiet, insignificant folks like her…like Ann and Ray. It was crazy. Didn’t make sense.
Even after nearly twenty-four hours, she couldn’t bring herself to turn on the television. It was as if seeing it on the news would make it more real.
She’d lain in that air duct for long minutes, maybe hours, before she’d crawled out. She’d turned on the desk lamp in Ray’s office and seen more than she wanted to with that meager glow. Eventually she’d sat down next to Ann and held her cold hand. She didn’t know how long she’d sat there, until she’d realized she had to go. Had to hide before they came back and found her. Before the police found her. Her hang-up on the 9-1-1 operator would eventually culminate in the police’s arrival.
If