Sean understood money laundering and finance, but nowhere near as well as he understood computer security and hacking. And he didn’t really care what Spade was doing at this point. Associating with Dominick Flores was sufficient for Sean to want his son away from here. After he got Jesse to safety, he would dig into Carson Spade with a magnifying glass and destroy him.
He looked at his watch. Damn, Kane had only been gone for an hour. He said it could take him all morning to set up his plan. A plan he didn’t fully explain to Sean. All Sean knew was that it depended on Gabriella getting a note to Jesse. Sean’s note. And if that didn’t happen, then they were back to square one.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Siobhan stepped out of the hotel and almost immediately the security chief approached her. “May I summon your driver?”
“I’m just walking to Starbucks. It’s only a few blocks.”
“It’s not a problem.”
Before she could argue with him, he was on his radio. Less than a minute later the driver pulled up. Did they have him sitting in his car waiting?
Still, Sean and Lucy had been more than generous in setting her up in this hotel, and she was pretty certain Kane had something to do with the security precautions.
When the driver dropped her off, she said, “I’m meeting a friend-you don’t have to stay.”
“It’s not a problem,” the driver said. Apparently, that was the motto of this security team.
“Thanks.” What else could she say?
She went inside the Starbucks. She was meeting Eric Barrow, her reporter friend. They’d been friends forever-since high school. He had some problems and could be a complete ass sometimes, but he was all about the truth. He was cynical and would believe the worst about anyone. When he got an idea in his head he would move heaven and earth to prove it, but so far, she’d never caught him printing a lie, and he’d never stabbed her in the back.
The same couldn’t be said of other people in Eric’s life, which was why Siobhan was probably one of Eric’s few friends.
Starbucks was on the corner of one of the most populated business areas of Laredo. Laredo was an old town, depressed; a third of the residents lived below the poverty level. But they still had a Starbucks, Siobhan thought wryly.
It was a treat for her. She even splurged and bought a pastry, something she hadn’t done in months. Andie led a simple life as well, but she had her luxuries-and Starbucks was one of them. Siobhan didn’t think her sister had gone a day without swinging by the drive-through on her way to Quantico, where she worked as the number two in charge of officer training. When Siobhan pointed out that Andie likely spent $150 a month at Starbucks-more if she added a pastry or sandwich to her triple lattes-Andie wasn’t amused.
“I spent thirty-two months in the fucking desert fighting to protect my right to have a goddamn Starbucks latte, and dammit, I’m going to have a goddamn Starbucks latte every fucking day until I die.”
Andie had the foul mouth in the Walsh clan.
Siobhan sat down and waited. Eric was habitually late, so she wasn’t worried or surprised when he finally came in twenty minutes after he said he’d be there. She had finished her croissant and was nearly done with her coffee.
“You should have warned me about your friends,” Eric said.
“Good to see you again, Eric.”
He grinned. “Sorry. You know me.”
“I do, which is why I’ll cut you some slack. But I didn’t know they were going to talk to you. I showed them your article, they followed up. It’s important.”
“Would you have told me they were coming?”
“Not if I thought you’d disappear.” She took his hands. “Eric, this is serious. Marisol and Ana were my friends. Their mother was my friend. I have to find them.”
“I know, sugar, I’ve done everything I can-you know that. But the feds? Really?”
“There’s a newborn baby without her mother. Her mother is either Mari or Ana. And now there’s another girl, dead, her baby stolen from her womb. This is bigger than us, Eric. Stop-I see your wheels turning. You want a story, and I’ll give you a huge story, but don’t blow this. Mari and Ana’s lives are in danger.”
“I’m not, but-”
“No buts. You wanted to meet with me.”
“No feds. You gotta shake them.”
“I’m not promising you that.”
“Dammit, did you know that the girl fed is Jack Kincaid’s sister? Jack hates me.”
“I’m sure Jack barely remembers the time when you nearly got him and his team killed,” she said sarcastically.
“I didn’t know the information was embargoed.”
She wasn’t certain she believed him. She wanted to… but this was Eric. “Eric-that was then. Let’s focus on now. If there is a human trafficking ring targeting pregnant immigrants and stealing their babies, we have to stop them. I’m not here because of my job; I’m here because I fear for their lives.”
“Word is that your fed friends made a lot of people nervous in Del Rio. Everyone is laying low. But I have an address. Just… be discreet about this, okay? If the feds come out in force, you’re not going to get anything from these people.” He slid over a folded piece of paper. “This is a midwife who may have information. But I guarantee she will not talk to Kincaid and Armstrong. You talk to her, see what she knows.”
Now Siobhan was skeptical. “Why would you give this to me and not pursue it yourself? Since you think there’s a story here.”
“Because, like you said, this is bigger than the story. You find Mari and Ana, I’ll get the story, I know that. I trust you, Siobhan. You’re probably the only one.” He paused, leaned forward. “I heard about the girl in the morgue. Word’s spread on the streets. You don’t like my tactics, but people here trust me because I’ve never burned the little guy. Don’t ruin that for me. It’s my best source of information.”
Siobhan didn’t always like it, but she understood. “I can be discreet. But, Eric-don’t burn Lucy and Noah. They care, they’re good cops. If you burn them, I’ll never work with you again.”
Eric shook his head and shot her a smile. “You think I’m going to burn a Kincaid who’s marrying a Rogan? Hell no, I’m not going to touch her, I promise.”
Siobhan wanted to believe him.
Lucy was fifteen minutes late to meet Noah that morning and it was clear that he was irritated. “Let’s go,” he said as soon as she walked in. “Dunning.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
He glanced at her. “It’s been a long couple of days, but you should have let me know you were running late. I would have understood.”
She didn’t say anything. He was right. Lucy had been late because she’d sent Sean a message to call her when he had a chance… he’d responded by text that he would, just didn’t know when. She’d then told him his client had come by the house and Lucy had information to share.
Then nothing. Nothing.
She was alternately worried about Sean’s safety and angry that he didn’t respond.
She’d been so blindsided by Madison Spade coming to her house and dropping the bombshell that Jesse was Sean’s son that she didn’t even think about calling headquarters. It hadn’t been intentional-Madison thought that Lucy already knew. Didn’t make the news any less shocking.
What’s shocking is that Sean didn’t tell you.
They’d promised no secrets, they’d promised to be honest with each other. After what happened in June when Sean risked his life to find a wanted fugitive who had already killed several cops-without telling her first-he’d promised not to put her in that situation again. He wanted to protect her, but in his attempt to keep her from worrying, she stressed that much more. Not knowing was worse.