Page 8 of Lone Star Secrets

He studied the figure in the hoodie who was keeping his head down while he tried to jimmy the lock. He appeared to be firing glances all around as if making sure no one was watching. Either the camera was out of view so he couldn’t see it, or he was an idiot. A third possibility was that he was desperate.

But for what?

And just how was this connected to Kenton’s remains being found?

He glanced over at Mia as she used her tablet to contact the security company. They in turn would alert the cops to send someone out.

“Four twenty-two Mesquite Grove in Blanco Pass,” Angel said, repeating the address that he’d just heard her rattle off to Sentron Security.

She nodded. “I’ve lived there about four years now.”

Angel wasn’t familiar with that exact address, but he certainly knew the location of Blanco Pass. It was a small ranching town only about five miles from where he lived in Bandera Bluffs. Since he’d driven the route many times now, he knew it would take them about twenty minutes to get there. Fifteen if he drove like a bat out of hell.

Which he would do.

Thankfully once they were away from the outskirts of San Antonio, they’d be on rural roads with very little traffic.

“So, you opted for not living in the city,” Angel commented, starting the van and driving toward the interstate.

He also continued to glance at the tablet screen. And around them. But that was his default mode. He was always looking out for a shitstorm.

“You opted not to live in the city as well,” she muttered. “I looked up your address when I was trying to figure out where to find you. Then, I read the news report about the woman being arrested for kidnapping that teenage boy and your name was mentioned.”

Hell. He didn’t want that kind of publicity, but Angel also knew it was next to impossible to avoid it.

“So, I decided to go by Maverick Ops headquarters first to see if you were there,” she went on. “And I spotted your van.”

He frowned at her. “How did you know it was my van?”

Her gaze met his for a second. Plenty of time for him to see the answer in her eyes. She’d hacked the info. Angel might have snarled at that, but she was no longer looking at him. Her attention was back on the tablet screen.

“He’s leaving,” Mia blurted. “And I still can’t see his face.” The frustration was in her voice now.

“Danno, deploy the drone to 422 Mesquite Grove in Blanco Pass,” Angel instructed. “I want to know who’s at the house and if he leaves, monitor where he’s going. I need a license plate number of whatever vehicle he’s in and a picture of his face.”

“A drone,” Mia repeated. “Will it have to come from Maverick Ops headquarters?”

“No. From my house. It won’t take it but a couple of minutes to get there.” He tipped his head to the tablet. “Can you adjust the security cameras to get a view of your driveway?”

She shook her head. “And I don’t have any nearby neighbors I can call to have them look.”

Angel didn’t have neighbors within sight of his house either, but his two foster brothers and now co-workers were fairly close. He nixed the idea of calling Jace since Angel knew he was away on an assignment that was out of the country. But if Presley was back home from his lunch with the CSI, he could get to Mia’s faster than they could. So, Angel texted him the address.

Her tablet dinged again. “According to the security company, the ETA for a deputy arrival at my house is twenty minutes,” Mia relayed from the message she’d gotten. “The intruder will be gone by then,” she added in a whisper.

Probably, but with some luck, the drone might be able to get an image they could use.

An image that might link them to a killer.

It might not have occurred to Mia yet, but it likely soon would that if neither one of them had killed Kenton, then this could be a person who might want to try to cover his or her tracks. And those tracks could mean eliminating anyone who could possibly tie him or her to the murder.

So, had this SOB intruder gone to Mia’s to kill her?

That got his blood running hot. Along with causing him to mentally curse. He couldn’t let these intense protective feelings that he had for Mia cloud his head. As far as he was concerned, this was a mission. A personal one, yes. But he had to try to keep the personal out of it.

A text reply from Presley popped up on the dash monitor. “Not home. In San Antonio. Will head to Mia’s now.”

Both Angel and she groaned. Neither Presley’s nor the deputy’s arrivals would likely be in time to catch this person. Mia and he, however, were on pace to get there in about six or seven minutes.

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