Page 13 of Tango
“Hunt,” I answer.
“I keep saying this, but it deserves repeating.” He sighs. “I don’t know what you’ve got yourself into, but it’s bad,” he says, tone aggravated.
“What do you mean?”
“FBI just showed up and pulled your guys out of my interrogation room.”
“Seriously? Did you get anything out of them?”
“Nope. Neither one would talk. I did what I could to stall, but they’re gone.”
Frustration tugs at me, worse than usual, given how absolutely exhausted I am. An all-nighter and two different time zones twice in twenty-four hours will do that to a guy. But I can at least say that I held up my end of the bargain. Alice’s parents are safe. “Do you have the names of the agents?”
“Already emailed them over to you, along with the surveillance footage. See what you can pull from it. They wouldn’t give me any information. Just flashed a badge, showed me a letter from someone I can’t argue with, then took the guys into custody.”
I run a hand over my face. “Any idea where they’re going?”
“Not a single clue. But I’d watch your back, Tucker. Whatever this is—it’s big. And Web Safe might just be at the center of it.”
“Thanks, Alaric. I appreciate the help.”
“Anytime.” He ends the call.
I turn to Frank. “Guys we apprehended have been pulled out by FBI agents.”
“Names of the agents?” Frank asks, going from frustrated to business mode. It’s a coping mechanism, something I and each of my brothers do too. Distance ourselves from the emotion of it, and focus on the actions we need to take.
After opening up my email, I copy the names of the agents and send them to Frank via text. His phone dings.
“I’ll find out what I can about them.” He fires off a message then raises his gaze to me. “Do you really think you can find her again?”
“I know I can. Besides, we have her parents at the ranch. And after what I saw last night, she’s not letting them get far for long. I’d be willing to bet she’ll make her way here sooner rather than later.”
Frank nods. “Any news on Ramiro?”
I sigh. While I don’t want to outright tell him, I also don’t want to keep secrets. “I don’t know yet.”
“But you have suspicions.” Frank crosses his arms. “Tell me, Tucker.”
I hesitate. Do I tell him? Do I break his heart before I know it’s true?
“Tucker.”
This isn’t anyone—it’s Frank. So I take a deep breath and prepare to deliver a knee-dropping blow. “Something those bruisers said to Alice last night makes me believe that Ramiro is—” I trail off.
“Dead,” he finishes, expression hard. “I had a feeling—” He shakes his head. “Ramiro wouldn’t have just no-showed his mom. That’s just not him. No matter what was going on in his life, he was there.” He lifts his gaze to me. “You think he’s dead, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
“A man attacked Alice outside of a bus stop. She defended herself, and he died after falling backward onto a piece of rebar. When the men brought it up and she told them it was self-defense, they asked her if the Ramiro kid was self-defense too.”
Frank’s expression goes from distraught to downright furious in less than a heartbeat. “She killed him? And you let her go?”
“No. She didn’t kill him, Frank. My gut says that there’s more to this than meets the eye, and it’s too soon for us to start drawing conclusions. They could have just as easily been taunting her, and she could very well not know whether Ramiro is alive or dead.” Though my instinct is that he is dead and that Alice Sterling is not the murderer.
I know killers, far better than I wish I did, and Alice is no killer.
