“I know you,” she said quietly. “He’s definitely one of the kidnappers,” she added, looking over at Harris, who nodded.
Glint shook his head. “One of who? I’ve never seen you before, lady.”
“Yes, you have-back at the cabin. You remember me, I can see it in your eyes.” She glanced at Harris again. “No doubt at all in my mind, Agent Harris. This is one of the men who kidnapped the medicine man and me, and is responsible for his murder. I’ll gladly testify to that at his trial.”
“This woman is nuts-or blind,” Glint said, sitting upright now.
Harris smiled. “Looks to me like you’re finally going down, Glint. It won’t take a jury fifteen minutes to convict you. The medicine man’s murder may even get you the chair instead of life without parole. If I were you, I’d start talking. It’s the only chance you’ve got.”
“People who spill their guts to the cops end up dead,” he spat out. “I’ll take my chances in court.”
“Flowers…” Dana commented, looking down at the daisies on the nightstand. “I wonder if the woman who sent them knows you won’t be getting out before she’s old and gray? She won’t even remember what you looked like, if you ever make parole, that is.”
“Forget the sob story, I have no idea how those flowers got here. They probably got the wrong room. Now get out, all of you,” Glint said. “I want a lawyer.”
Dana studied the flowers for a moment, then took out the small notebook from her purse. As the men’s attention became focused on her, Dana turned the pad around and showed Glint what she’d written.
Don’t talk. There’s some kind of electronic bug in your flowers, she wrote.
Glint raised off the bed and peered over as she pointed it out to him. He turned and gave Harris an obscene gesture.
“Not mine,” Harris said, taking a closer look.
Your boss doesn’t trust you. You’re a dead man, Dana wrote.
Glint looked around the room like a trapped man, then finally focused on Agent Harris. Wild-eyed, he signaled for some paper. “I’m not talking,” he said, directing his words at the flowers.
Won’t matter. You’re a liability, Dana wrote.
Ranger, who’d looked in the basket, moved to pick it up, but Harris held up his hand, warning him away.
Agent Harris nodded to Dana, and she handed Glint her notepad and pen.
Do you know Ignacio Trujillo? Harris wrote.
Just Ernesto, and he’s dead, came Glint’s reply.
Harris brought out three photos, one being of Ignacio Trujillo, but Glint shook his head at each photo.
Who were your contacts? Harris wrote.
Marc Finch and a guy named Del. Don’t know his last name, the injured prisoner wrote back.
Harris took the pad. Describe them.
Take the flowers out of here first, Glint wrote back, looking nervously at the flowers.
I’ll put them in another room, Dana wrote. Your boss won’t catch on right away.
Once Ranger had made a show of taking the bouquet out of the room, Glint began to give them detailed descriptions.
AFTERWARD, they met outside in the hall. After walking some distance away from Glint’s door, Harris looked at Dana through narrowed eyes.
“What the heck was that all about?” he asked. “I looked right into the middle of that flower arrangement, but didn’t see a thing. Where was the bug?”
“Actually, I think it was somebody’s button. I just decided to play a bluff,” she said. “You learn to do that in a classroom when you’re tracking down which student hid the handle to the pencil sharpener.”
“Inspired tactic, Ms. Seles,” Harris said. “Now stay out of my case. Law enforcement officers will take it from here. Good night.” Harris strode back to Glint’s room.
WITH HARRIS GONE, Ranger grabbed Dana’s hand, and led her back outside in a hurry. “I need to make a phone call. Let’s see if I can get some information on Marc Finch and Del,” he said, punching out a number.
Ranger reported in to his brother quickly. “Do we have any information on these guys? More specifically, did Ernesto Trujillo ever use them?” There was a long pause at the other end.
“Wind, you still there?” came Hunter’s voice two minutes later.
“Yeah.”
“The two guys weren’t connected to Ernesto, according to our former inside man. We know Ignacio must be hiring new talent. Finch is a low-rent hood, according to my best source, but he doesn’t have an arrest record beyond high school. Nothing on anyone named Del. If I had a last name…”
“Can you track down a photo of Marc Finch for me?”
“Might take awhile. We’ll put feelers out, but our manpower is limited. Only those currently known to Hastiin Dííl are in play.”
Feeling frustrated, Ranger hung up and hurried back to the truck with her. “Let’s put some distance between us and this hospital. I don’t want a second team sneaking up on us.”
“Every time we get close to Ignacio, he slithers out of our grasp. All we get is hired muscle.”
“Ignacio is smart, and deadly. But we’ll get him,” Ranger said.
“How? By going after this Finch guy?”
“We don’t have squat on anyone named Del, so that makes Marc Finch our best lead,” he answered. “I want to check all the cheap motels in this area. Let’s see if they’ve got a guest using the name Finch, or something close to that.”
“These businesses aren’t just going to hand us their guest lists-we’re not the police, and we don’t have a warrant.”
“There’s a faster way. I’ve got a laptop beneath your seat that’s got all kinds of special software and hardware for satellite access. I can hack into the servers that control most reservation and ticketing venues. It’s a read-only connection, but that’s all we need. It’ll just take me a few minutes to get set up.” He pulled off the road then and taking the laptop, moved his seat back and began to work.
“Will you be able to retrieve the information before they catch on to you?” she asked.
“Probably, but there’s a certain amount of risk involved. It isn’t exactly legal,” he added, giving her a quirky grin.
“Neither is kidnapping and murder. Go for it,” she said.
He smiled. No wonder he was crazy about her. “You’re terrific.”
“I’m just tired of playing by the rules. For the first time in my life I’m willing to get a little reckless. Think you’re a bad influence?”
“I hope so,” he said with a grin, then grew serious. “But, for the record, I’m never reckless. I’m willing to take calculated risks. There’s a difference.”
She nodded thoughtfully, then said, “The biggest difference between us is that I’m willing to do what has to be done, but you love the danger.”
“Danger is all around us. Somebody has to meet it head-on so others can walk in beauty.”
She was beginning to understand him. Like Icarus, he soared high, letting the winds carry him dangerously close to the sun because everything in him demanded he try, even when the odds were against him. It was courage in its rawest and most dazzling form. She was more sure than ever that he was a member of the Brotherhood of Warriors.
Chapter Nineteen
Dana watched him work, questions racing through her head. At long last she spoke. “That’s some special software. How did you get it?”
“Friends,” he answered, his gaze never leaving the screen.
“These friends…are they part of the Brotherhood of Warriors?” she asked, then, to her horror, realized she’d spoken the question out loud. But it was too late to take it back now.
“What do you know about the brotherhood?” he asked, again not taking his eyes off the screen.
“Not much more than their name, and the fact that they stay in the shadows.”
“Then asking about it would be pointless, wouldn’t it?” he countered with a trace of a smile.
“Yeah.” There it was. That constant reminder that no matter how close they became, there would always be barriers between them.