“What is it?” Ree asked, letting his statement about life sit in the back of her mind as she watched him check his phone.
He moved over to the laptop and then brought it over to the table. She cleared off space and then moved her chair beside his, ignoring the heat washing over her body at being so close. “Grappell got a hit on the plate.”
Bald Guy. “It’s registered to an eighty-year-old female by the name of Betsy Warner. She lives about an hour away from here,” he informed. “Grappell attached the address with a map pinpointing the location.”
“I’m guessing the agency is sending someone else to follow up on the lead,” she said.
He nodded. “No one wants to risk us being seen or made. Grappell said he’d keep us posted on what they find out.”
More waiting around. Great.
“In the meantime, we can go through last night’s footage to see what else we can dig up,” he suggested, rubbing his hands together. “It’s not the sexiest part of the job but it is where most of the work is done.”
“Remind me not to sign up for any more possible long-term undercover gigs unless it’s with you,” she said in response. “At least your food game is strong.”
“I see the SUV parked again on Thursday,” he said as he studied the screen with a slight smirk.
“How badly do you want to go check out the house it’s registered to?” she asked.
“As much as I want to breathe air,” he stated.
“Remind me how wrong it would be for us to take a drive right now,” she said.
“And give Grappell an ulcer?” he shot back with a grin that said he could easily be talked into it.
She wiggled her eyebrows. And then the thing that had been niggling at the back of her mind at the bar last night stepped out of the shadows.
“He was at the bar,” she said.
“Who?” He arched a dark brow.
“Bald Guy. We were focused on Phillip but Bald Guy was standing next to him. The guy from the sketch. He was there and I’m certain the two of them were together.”
She grabbed her phone and located the picture she’d taken.
“Yes. See. He’s right here,” she said, holding up her cell so he could get a good look.
“That’s him,” Quint confirmed. “Before we decide to go for a drive, I need to dig around in Charley’s files. See what I can come up with.”
The minute Quint located evidence, Charley would be arrested, and the assignment would come to a close. The thought shouldn’t make her heart hurt. Once arrests were made, she wouldn’t be able to show her face and Zoey would continue to be left to her own devices. Without this job, what would she do for money? Would conditions worsen for her?
“Bingo,” Quint said. “I’m seeing a lot of money come through here and into a bank that we know is fake. This is tens of thousands of dollars a day. He is breaking up large amounts of money into smaller transactions, shuffling through this fake account and into his business account. From there it’s going into untraceable shell companies.”
“Does that mean he isn’t moving weapons?” she asked.
“It could be where the money is coming from but I’m not seeing any evidence of guns moving out the back door. Let me send a note to Grappell with this new information. He’s going to want to give tech a few days to take a deep dive into this and put together the case. I’ll update the boss, too. She’ll want to identify who the shell accounts belong to so they can bust as many people as possible,” he said. “In my experience, this phase will move fast. Do you have a few more days of working the floor of the restaurant in you?”
“I’ve been hanging in there so far,” she said. “Tomorrow is my day off since Mondays are the slowest.”
“I’ll still have to go in during the morning to clean up the desktop files and keep up my work of finding accounting software for Charley,” he said. “He’s the only one who accesses the computer as far as I know, so he has to be the one behind the crimes.”
“I’m wondering just how much Phillip is pushing the buttons,” she stated. “Charley might be a pawn based on what you saw this morning.”
“Then he’ll most likely get a chance to turn state’s witness if he’s willing to testify against the others and bring down the whole operation,” he stated. “Not a bad haul for your first time out on a big assignment.”
She nodded, thinking she wouldn’t feel successful at all if she didn’t get help for Zoey. Would she push Ree away? How could Ree approach the subject? A confrontation? She quickly dismissed the idea. Zoey could withdraw further. A handwritten note? That might work.
Thunder rumbled in the sky. The air was heavy with humidity. A storm brewed.
QUINT MARKED AS many suspect accounts as he could before sending his findings over to Grappell. He ran over the facts in his head. Charley was involved in moving money. Phillip, Bald Guy and Ruddy Complexion were involved, but it was unclear exactly what their roles were. The money seemed significant. Where were the guns? He wrote the high-level update to the boss, giving a whole lot of the credit for their findings to Ree. She deserved to have accolades in her jacket for her work on this case.
Rain pelted the tin roof of the cabin, the noise so loud they wouldn’t be able to talk over it if they tried. He glanced over at her and saw her scribbling away on a piece of paper. He had no doubt that she had a dozen or so good reasons to convince Zoey, if that was her real name, to go to Austin.
“Do you want to talk me through your arguments?” he offered. “I might be a good sounding board.”
Ree glanced at the door and froze. “Did you hear that?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” he stated, glancing around the room to ensure there was nothing out in the open that could identify them as law enforcement. He nodded toward the door as he moved to his boot, strapping it on in record time.
“Who is it?” Ree shouted.
“Zoey.” The young woman’s voice shook. She had to be soaking, standing out in the rain.
Ree gave a quick look at Quint before opening the door. “You’re drenched. Come on in.”
Zoey stood there, still in her work clothes, with mascara-stained cheeks, looking about as pitiful as a soaked dog who’d escaped the backyard and gotten itself lost.
Zoey’s gaze flew to Quint and then back at Ree. She shook her head but didn’t budge. The momentary look of fear in her eyes would probably haunt Quint for weeks. Getting her help would be the only way to make it go away.
“It’s okay,” Ree soothed. She reached both hands out to Zoey, taking her arms and tugging her into the cabin. “Come in so we can close the door and get you out of this storm.”
“It’s just thunder scares me a little bit,” Zoey said as she stood there dripping on the wood flooring.
Quint pushed up to standing and Zoey flinched. He had to force calm over himself because he knew exactly what that meant, and it caused a knot to form in his gut. “I’ll just get a towel so she can dry off.”
“Come sit down at the table,” Ree continued, her voice tranquil as she led the young woman to a chair.
Quint retrieved a towel and brought it back. He walked the long way around whereas Zoey sat in the chair closest to the door. Smart strategy in case she decided to bolt. He handed Ree the towel and then retrieved three Cokes from the fridge. He held one up and Zoey gave a slight nod.
Again, after he opened the drink, he handed it over to Ree to give to Zoey.
“This place is too small for me to go in another room, but I can sit out in the car if the two of you need some privacy,” he offered.
Zoey’s eyes widened in surprise. She sat still for a long moment before giving a slight headshake.
“Okay, then, I’ll just be over here watching a game.” He motioned toward the laptop. On his way back to the couch, he snagged a pair of earbuds. He took a seat, tucked in the earbuds and pulled up a random game. He didn’t turn on the volume because he wanted to hear the conversation as much as possible through the driving rain.
“My boyfriend and I had a fight,” Zoey said quietly. “He kicked me out.”
“Do you need a place to stay tonight?” Ree asked.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the young woman’s lip quiver. She didn’t respond.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say. We can sit here and talk if you want. Or not. You can dry off, drink a Coke and chill.” Ree set the Coke bottle in front of Zoey before picking up her own and taking a big swig.
Zoey started drying off as she picked up the Coke and took a sip. “Why do you care if I eat?”
“Because you need food,” Ree replied casually.
“You shouldn’t care,” she said. “And I’m not a kid.”
“You know what? I don’t even like kids. We certainly don’t have any and I don’t know if I ever will. I have nephews who have so much energy they make me want to walk out of the room every time they zip past,” Ree said with that same calm, collected voice.
Zoey rolled her eyes. “Kids, right?”
“They can be such a pain,” Ree agreed. “So, as long as we establish that I’m not trying to be your mother, we’re good.”
Zoey nodded.
“I’d rather be friends anyway,” Ree said. “Being new in town is hard on the social life.”
“My boyfriend gets in these rages when I do something wrong and, like, takes everything. He’s still angry at me for losing my key,” she said.
“Losing a key isn’t such a terrible thing,” Ree said.
Strangely enough, it was probably Quint, rather than Ree, who could relate to Zoey’s past. Ree came from a loving family and a solid home. Quint’s background was a little more complicated. But at least he’d had his mother and Officer Jazz. Ree had been right earlier. Zoey had no one.
“Do you have family in Texas?” Ree asked.
“Nah, my mom ditched a couple of years ago. She didn’t tell my stepdad before she took off. We weren’t close to any other family. I’m probably the last person she wants to see again,” she said like it was nothing, but there was an undercurrent of hurt in her voice. She was too relaxed when talking about the abandonment, showing too much of a forced, careless attitude.
Quint never crossed a line when it came to investigations because it might risk the operation. He’d learned to detach, focus on the good he was doing. But he couldn’t allow this young woman to continue to be treated this way. This time, he had to put himself on the line.