Page 62 of Hannah's Truth

He willed himself to settle down as he stroked the length of her arm. “I know you’re invested. Let me wrap this up for you. Call it a wedding gift.”

She snorted.

“Fine. Don’t call it anything. Just stay here and handle all of this.” He tipped his head toward the crowded diner.

“If you tell me your plan.”

“I’m running out of time, Hannah.”

“Then talk fast.”

“Ross and I will tail them and when we find them making a connection, the sheriff can ride in and make the arrest.”

Without another word, he pulled her close, pressed a hard, sweet kiss to her lips, and walked away.

Chapter 14

Fuming at his ill-timedhigh-handedness, Hannah knew any further argument was pointless. It was time for action. She would not let anyone relegate her to the sidelines on this case.

She scooted through the crowd with a friendly smile plastered across her face, until she reached Maria at the cake table. “Bart’s dealing with a business problem, but it shouldn’t take long.”

“Uh-huh. Why are you still here?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

Hannah studied the older woman. “Can you cover for both of us for a little while?”

“Of course.” Maria gave a resigned sigh. “Everyone is having fun.”

“Good. Got a pen?”

“Always.” Maria handed it over.

Hannah took the older woman’s hand and wrote her cell phone on her palm. “Call me if anyone leaves unexpectedly.”

“Okay. Are you going to tell me why?”

“It’s just business,” Hannah said.

“Right,” Maria muttered something in Spanish that sounded like a prayer to Hannah’s ears. “If that business has anything to do with Tim’s murderer, go get him. And bring Bart back in one piece.”

“It’s a deal.”

Hannah left through the back door of the kitchen, suppressing a shiver as she passed the dumpster where Tim’s body had been found. This wasn’t the time to be squeamish or sentimental. The first had never been a problem until the pregnancy test turned positive and Bart was packing enough of the second alongside his revengeful intent.

Circling the building, she darted up the stairs to the apartment for the keys to the Camaro. With so many cars surrounding the truck stop, she had plenty of cover getting across to the mechanic’s shop where Bart kept it parked.

Not wanting to explain taking the Camaro for a drive, she was grateful the mechanic was up at the diner with everyone else for the party. Except for the guests of honor, she thought as the suspected mobile meth lab pulled away from the gas pump with Bart’s big truck a few seconds behind it.

“Please do something stupid,” Hannah murmured to the departing cartel vehicle.

She adjusted the heavy seat for her shorter legs and started the engine. It sputtered and died, and she realized she’d forgotten to pump the gas pedal. The engine caught with a roar on her second attempt and she briefly reconsidered taking the rental car. But if her darkest suspicions were correct, that car was already on the DEA’s radar and she refused to let anyone else get credit for this takedown.

Hanging back a bit, she watched the meth truck take the on-ramp to I-95 North, followed closely by the second vehicle, andthen Bart. She shifted into first gear and eased forward to follow, but had to wait as a sheriff’s car whizzed by.

Bart must have called Wallace's department for backup and the realization made her feel marginally better. Logic and proper procedure would give them the best shot at getting Gonzales behind bars and keeping him there. She joined the unofficial caravan, her eyes trained on the mobile meth lab, even as she watched for the unmarked sedans used by the local DEA.

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