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“I’m not lying, Sean. Carson called me and said they were fine, he just has more business, and he will be home on Friday.”

“And?”

Her eyes darted toward the plane, just briefly, before looking Sean in the eye. “And… nothing.”

“So the whole story that they were robbed and at the American embassy was a big fat lie.” Sean turned and started walking away.

“No!” Madison ran after him. She grabbed him and he shook her off. “Please, Sean, trust me.”

That was it. “Trust you? You lied to me for thirteen years. I have a son. He doesn’t even know who I am. You kept that from me. I will never forgive you. I will never trust you. And now you’re lying to me again to protect your husband, putting my son in danger. Your son. You know what I think? I think your husband is laundering money, and if he’s in Mexico, that means he’s doing it for the cartels. And if he’s laundering money for the cartels, you and Jesse already have a target on your backs.”

She was shaking. “I-I talked to J-Jesse. He’s f-fine.”

“No matter how many fucking times you tell me Jesse is fine, he’s not fine. I will bring him back. At this point, I don’t give a fuck what happens to your husband. But Jesse is not going to be used as a pawn between Carson and the cartels or whoever the hell he’s screwing around with. And there is nothing you can do or say to stop me.”

Sean returned to his plane. He was shaking. Fear and anger. He started the plane again and rolled forward.

“Blocked number. Six-minute conversation.”

“And?”

“Your program said it originated within fifty miles of Guadalajara.”

“If he calls again, I’ll run a program to trace it.”

“We have a meeting with security in Acapulco.”

Sean didn’t say anything.

“We need intel.”

“Four to five hours to Acapulco, and that’s pushing it if we have to hop back on the plane for another three-hour leg to Guadalajara. We’ll need to refuel someplace.”

“We’re covered. Sean, don’t change the plan.”

“We have no fucking plan because we don’t know what the fuck is going on or where the fuck they are!”

Sean turned toward the runway. He glanced once back toward the tarmac. Madison was standing right where he’d left her.

Kane didn’t say anything as Sean built up speed and lifted off. If this was any other day and any other trip, Sean would have appreciated the state-of-the-art plane. The comfort. The speed. But today… now… he just wanted to find his son.

His son.

Kane said, “Control your emotions.”

“I am.”

“Bullshit.”

Sean spent more time than necessary playing with the gauges and controls. Kane knew what he was doing. Getting his shit together.

“We landed on somebody’s radar,” Sean said. “That’s why Carson called her.”

“I talked to one person who I trust. But he may have tripped something getting details on Spade. Who did you talk to?”

“No one except you and JT and Jaye.” Sean paused. “I dug around in Carson’s finances.”

“Trip anything?”

“Doubtful, but I didn’t have time to be extra cautious. The only way he would know I was digging was if he was watching real-time or had a program that knew exactly what to look for in a hack.”

“How likely?”

“Well, I’d say highly unlikely unless he’s working with top tech people. Or he had someone like me set it up for him. Or if he was suspicious. And if he’s laundering money, he would be suspicious.”

“We tipped our hand. One of us-you or me. Or Jaye. You have her running backgrounds and financials?”

“She’s just as good as me when it comes to covering her tracks.”

There was only so much they could do. If someone was monitoring finances live and they were smart, they might see something odd. If they were up to no good, they would be suspicious of anything out of the ordinary.

Kane continued. “My security guy in Acapulco is pulling feeds from the resort Spade was at. We’ll know who, if anyone, he met with. What he did. What he fucking ate for breakfast and when he took a shit. We need that intel, otherwise we’re going in blind. So stay on course, Sean.” He paused. “Jesse is a Rogan, we’re not going to leave him behind. I promise you that. But we’re not going to be stupid about it, just like you weren’t stupid when you rescued me outside Santiago.”

Kane was right. Of course he was, he’d been doing these kind of rescues for twenty years. It was in his blood. Sean was just the driver-or pilot, as the case may be. He had to trust his brother.

“She lied. In part. I’m sure she talked to Spade and Jesse, but he told her something else. Something that freaked her out so much that she came to the airport and tried to stop us.”

“The question is, did she tell Spade who she hired?”

Sean considered the conversation he’d just had with Madison. “My guess is no. She wouldn’t want him to know she came to me when the going got tough. Carson must know I’m Jesse’s real father. And Madison is trying to salvage her life right now.”

“We’ll go on that assumption, but you have to remember, Sean-the Rogan name is akin to God in some places, and Satan in others. We’re certainly not in Kansas anymore.”

Sean glanced at his brother with a half smile. “A joke. Really.”

Kane smiled, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.

Sean flew. And thought about the lost years.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lucy, Noah, and Siobhan arrived in Laredo just after nine thirty Tuesday morning. Lucy had spent the two-hour drive reviewing notes from their analyst regarding the properties managed by Direct Property Holdings.

TO:

SSA N. Armstrong

FROM:

Z. Charles, Analyst III

RE:

Case 16-T4022209-A

CC:

SA L. Kincaid

The two properties in question are owned by different entities, but run by the same property management company out of San Antonio as I forwarded yesterday. Direct Property Holdings-DPH-has no identifiable employees, but I’ve sent a request to access tax records. DPH is owned by Direct Business Management registered in Reno, Nevada; I’ve requested the corporate filings from Nevada but based on what I’ve learned so far, I suspect that there will not be any individuals listed on those records.

I have, however, backtraced seven additional properties managed by DPH that are within a hundred-mile radius of the Freer property. There may be more, and I will continue to work this angle. The list is attached. I will trace these companies as far as I can, but I’ve seen this before and it’s far out of my skill set. I would like to bring this to the attention of our White Collar Crimes Division who may have additional insight into how this is set up and how the operational tree is organized. However, because this is a highly sensitive issue I wanted your approval first, and if there was a specific person I should discuss this with.

I’ve begun the search of all individuals in the photographs you forwarded. It’ll take some time. The brothel pays under the table, so I have no employment records. I’ll forward positive identifications as I receive them. The first is attached: Leo Musgrove. He has a record and was easy to find.

Lucy looked at the list of addresses. Two were in the Laredo area. One was in Del Rio. It was familiar. She started flipping through her notes.

“It’s the same place,” Noah said.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re looking at the list of addresses. I already confirmed that the Del Rio address is the brothel that Barrow investigated. There are three in the San Antonio area, and Nate and Kenzie are going to check them out today if they get a break in their current caseload; otherwise we’ll check on them tomorrow. In the meantime I’ve asked Rick to smooth over some ruffled feathers.”