25
“This is Enrique. I think we’ve got a problem.” Enrique cut right to the chase.
“What’s Jamie done now?” Marcus knew his friend very well.
Enrique smiled despite not being in the mood for lighthearted banter. His grin faded as he told Marcus what happened. “It’s not that. I can’t find her. I thought maybe you’d talked to her today. In the last few hours.”
“No, I haven’t talked to her since the morning after you made that ruckus in the bar. How are things going aside from you not knowing where she is?”
“We’re working it out—sort of. She’s agreed we can be partners as long as she’s the boss.”
“Sounds like my Jamie. So, what’s the problem?”
“We were supposed to connect a few hours ago. She didn’t show, and her room is empty. I think something’s wrong.”
“It’s possible, but Jamie often goes off the grid when she’s undercover. She’s like a bloodhound. When she gets a scent she doesn’t stop until she gets to the end of the trail.”
“Not the words I wanted to hear.”
“I know, buddy. I can sympathize, but she’s good at what she does. And she can take care of herself. Remember that. Stop letting your own feelings about her get in the way of that.”
Enrique started to protest, but didn’t bother. Were his feelings for Jamie that blatant? Did everyone know he still carried a torch for her? “So if you were me you’d do nothing. Sit tight and wait?”
“Not much else to do. Anything new on the investigation? Where are you?”
“Jackson Hole.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.”
“I guess that means you’re getting some new intel.”
“A little. Not only did she come up with this location, but she got us another name to check out.”
“Think it’s legitimate?”
“Seemed to be. I’ve got people checking him out.”
“Mind if I do?”
“Not at all. The more the merrier.”
“What’s the name?”
“Ryan Mattson.”
“Great. And Enrique?”
“Yes, Marcus.”
“Stop worrying. Jamie Jakowski can take care of herself. And besides, I’d swear God assigned a guardian angel just for her when I think of some of the situations she’s survived.”
“That might be true. I’m just praying this isn’t one of those situations.”
“I hear you, buddy.”
Enrique hung up the phone. He told himself there was nothing to worry about. His gut said otherwise. He walked outside. A little air would be good.
A woman stepped out from the room beside Jamie’s.
He smiled at her. “Afternoon.”
She nodded, but said nothing.
“Excuse me.” His hand curled around the badge in his pocket as he walked towards her.
The woman turned, her gaze suspicious.
“I was wondering if you’d seen the woman in the room beside yours today.” He pointed at Jamie’s door.
“Why?” Her eyes narrowed even more as she took a step away from him.
“I’m FBI, and I’m looking for her.” He pulled out the badge.
She stared at the badge, and then back at him. “I haven’t seen her since her husband carried her out of the room.”
“Carried?”
“Yeah, he said she was sick. He asked for directions to the hospital, but we’re not from around here so I had no idea.”
“How did you know it was her husband?”
“I just assumed that’s who he was. I suppose it could have been a boyfriend. Maybe even a brother.”
He pulled out his cell phone and flipped to a picture of Michael Zinkleman. “Is that the guy?”
“No.”
“Well, maybe his hair’s different. Color or length? Or he has a beard or something to make him look different.”
“Not him. I’m sure of it.”
“Well, what can you tell me about the guy?”
A young girl walked out of the motel room. “He had a tattoo on his arm.”
“What kind of a tattoo?”
“A snake that wrapped around his arm several times.” Her fingers indicated a climbing snake up her arm. “It was so awesome. I think I’m going—”
His stomach clenched. A snake going up his arm. Ryan Mattson?
“Don’t even think about it,” the mother said.
“But, Mom.”
“No.”
Teenage rebellion never changed.
How had Ryan managed to find Jamie? What was he doing here?
“Thanks, I’ll check out the hospital.” He handed the mother a card. “If you see either of them don’t say anything, but please give me a call.”
She nodded with pursed lips. “Of course.”
“I wonder what they did. I knew they looked suspicious from the start. I tried to tell you something was wrong,” the young girl whispered to her mother as they walked away.
“I don’t care what they did or didn’t do, but I’m going to ask for our room to be changed.”
“No way, Mom. I want to see what happens next. More exciting than this ridiculous town.”
The woman grabbed her daughter’s arm and walked towards the office.