JENNA FOLLOWED OSHIRO’S directions to the site of Clinton Caine’s money cache. They followed the switchbacks of a county road over a mountain then into a valley that appeared virtually uninhabited except for one lone farmhouse in the far distance and a few buildings clustered together about a mile ahead. Fields plowed for the spring planting spread out on both sides of the road, leaving them no cover for their approach.
She pulled the Tahoe to the gravel shoulder. “That’s the place?”
“That’s the place,” he confirmed, nodding to the crossroads ahead. A second black Tahoe pulled in behind them. Oshiro’s partner, a slim black woman with her hair pulled back in cornrows, waited at the wheel.
Jenna and Oshiro got out. Jenna opened the rear hatch and pulled out a monocular while Oshiro one-upped her by retrieving a pair of thermal imaging binoculars from his own vehicle. She climbed up to the roof of her SUV and scouted ahead.
“There are a few trailers, two buildings—one looks like an old service station, the other I’m not sure—and a Quonset hanger with a bunch of vehicles scattered around it. Maybe a junkyard.”
“Or chop shop,” he suggested, handing her the thermal binocs. “This should give you a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”
She scanned the buildings once more. This time she could see the heat signatures of several people. “Looks like four or five in the hanger, two in the first trailer, one in the second, and…” She focused on the brick building beside the service station. It was cube-shaped but with a high pitched roof—some kind of church? It had a solid feel to it, as if it had been there much longer than any of the other structures. Whatever it was, there was a lot of activity going on inside. “I count at least eleven in the second building—hard to say, they keep moving, and there are several blind spots.”
“The only people we’ve seen in the past ten miles and they’re all right here where Clinton Caine stashed his cash?”
“Clint isn’t exactly the social type.” Jenna accepted his hand as she climbed down from the Tahoe’s roof. “Maybe the stash is nearby? The crossroads are simply a landmark?”
He squinted at his phone, zooming in. “Morgan’s coordinates would be directly over that second building. The brick one with all the people in it.” He glanced around, assessing their approach. “Maybe they know something. Can’t hurt to ask.”
“They’ll see us coming, know exactly who we are.” Well, at least Oshiro—no mistaking him for anything except law enforcement.
“We’re not hiding anything. Let’s see if they are.”
“If you go in and Clint’s there, you’ll scare him off.”
“And you won’t? He knows your face.”
“He won’t run. He’s not scared of me.” Exactly the opposite. Caine saw her as one of his victims, his “fish,” he called them. “I’ll go in alone.”
Oshiro’s frown tightened his face into a fearsome scowl. “No. I don’t like it. Not until we see who’s in there.”
“We don’t have time to wait for backup.” She reached into the Tahoe for her ankle holster and strapped it on, then pulled her pants leg down over it. Clint would know she was armed, but he wouldn’t care—it would probably make him laugh. “Besides, what are the odds that he’s even there? He’s been free for four days now, has most likely already been and gone. It’s info we’re after, not an arrest or capture.”
He strode back to the other vehicle, handed the binoculars to his partner, and spoke to her for several moments before returning to Jenna’s Tahoe. “Lester is going to hang back, cover the perimeter for us. Just in case.”
“Lester?”
“Monica Lester. Sorry, should have introduced you.”
“Not so much concerned about the social niceties as I am one woman covering our backs.”
He grinned. “You haven’t met Lester. Don’t worry, she’s up to it.”
They climbed back into the Tahoe and drove toward the crossroads. Jenna glanced in the rearview mirror as the SUV following them peeled off, heading cross-country to a small knoll in the center of the field, the only high ground available. “She’s a sniper?”
“One of the best.” He glanced out his window, following the trail of dust Lester’s SUV left in its wake. “That will place her at an angle where she can cover most of the pie—we’ll need to worry about the blind slice between the rear of the building and the gas station.” He waved his hand, indicating an area from around ten o’clock to eleven.
They reached the intersection. Jenna came to a stop, even though there was no stop sign in either direction. The peaked roof brick building dominated the landscape. Up close, she made out brass letters across the soffit above the entrance: Crossroads.
“What do you think it is?” she asked Oshiro. “A church?” Wouldn’t it be just like Clint to hide his ill-gotten gains in a house of worship?
Oshiro shrugged, too busy using his mirrors to scout their surroundings one final time. “You’ll want to park there, gives us cover if we need to make a strategic retreat.”
Jenna pulled the Tahoe around to park it face out where he indicated, a spot diagonally in front of the brick building, where they’d be in Lester’s sights. “You know we did have tactical training in the Postal Service.”
“Only reason why you’re here. Not that it matters, you’re staying in the vehicle.”
“Like hell I am.”
He squinted at her over the top of his sunglasses. “I could arrest you. Accessory. Material witness.”
“Good try, but we don’t have any proof that the information I gave you has anything to do with Clinton Caine, not until we go inside. Besides, it came from Morgan, not me.”
She was expecting an argument—Lucy would have argued, then ignored whatever Jenna told her and done things her own damn way. In truth, Jenna teetered on the knife-edge between adrenaline and fear, and she secretly hoped for a reason to stay behind.
Oshiro merely pushed his sunglasses back up his nose with one knuckle, hiding both his eyes and any hint of expression on his face, before finally nodding his acceptance. He couldn’t get rid of her, the twist of his lips suggested, so he might as well make use of her. “Guess that means you go in first. After I scout around back and see what we’re dealing with.”
“I’m not an idiot. But I’m also not about to be a sitting duck. You realize they have eyes on us right now.”
He glanced out the window and adjusted his side mirror. “Not just from our target building. Across the street, as well.” He nodded to the Quonset hut that filled his mirror. “Guess we do it your way. We’ll go in together. You do the talking, I’ll do the shooting.”
He was joking. At least Jenna hoped he was. But the way his face was set, all expression erased, it would have been easier to read a stone.