Exposed (6 page)

“Have you noticed anything suspicious recently?”

She blinked at him. “Nothing other than this message.”

“No one’s followed you, you haven’t noticed anyone hanging around your place or anything like that?”

She knew he was just being thorough, but his questions chilled her nonetheless. “No, not that I know of.” God, had someone been watching her and she simply hadn’t noticed? Growing up in the neighborhood she had, she’d developed a pretty good internal radar.

“Any jealous ex-boyfriends, problems with co-workers or anyone else like that?”

“None.” The last time she’d gone out with a man was seven months ago, and only for one dinner. Two hours in a restaurant with him was more than enough time to remind her why she’d decided to stop dating.

“Okay, I’m already familiar with a lot of this case, but tell me more about the contacts you’ve been working with recently.”

And there went her work schedule for the afternoon, because this was going to take a while. Still, better safe than sorry. “Sure.”

“In the meantime I’d like to have my people take your phone for a little bit, see if we can find out where the call originated, maybe find out where the phone was purchased and see if we can ID the buyer via security footage of some kind at or around the store.”

“Go ahead.” Leaving her phone with him, she went to her office to gather her files, sending Emma a reassuring smile on her way past. Back in Frank’s office she laid out everyone she’d talked to or had communication with about the case and began reviewing the list.

When she mentioned some of the more recently contacted key players they were hoping to get to testify against Fuentes, Lammers frowned. It was obvious from his expression that he knew the men, knew of their criminal histories. No doubt many of them had had run-ins with Lammers and his people at some point at least over the years.

He made notes, asked questions from time to time, then reviewed Frank’s list of contacts. An hour later Marisol was no closer to figuring out who might have called her.

Lammers’s cell rang. He listened to the caller for a few moments, then his hazel gaze shot to her and stayed locked on her face. “Understood. Keep digging.” He hung up, his expression grave. “Our techs said the software needed to generate that kind of voice in the first place is highly sophisticated. They were also unable to figure out where the call originated from. Not only was it a burner phone, it had enough encryption on it to scramble the usual signal and stump my guys. And my guys don’t stump easy.”

Marisol clenched her fingers together in her lap, kept her expression calm despite the dread unfurling deep inside. “So you’re saying I should definitely be worried?”
Because after hearing that, I’m already there.

“I’m saying we need to take this seriously since you were singled out specifically. And given the nature of the case and the list of suspects you just gave me, for your safety we need to fast track this investigation.”

Oh, shit. “Okay.” There was nothing else she could say at the moment. Whoever had sent the message knew what the hell they were doing, and knew how to cover their tracks. If this threat against her was legitimate and not just a scare tactic, then she was all for working with the Feds or anyone else who could help. But she was absolutely not letting some asshole scare her off this case.

Lammers nodded and got back on the phone. From the way he spoke she guessed he was talking to a contact he had at the Miami FBI office. She shared a long look with Frank over the top of his desk. From the crease between his eyebrows, she knew he was as worried as her.

Lammers ended the call and spoke to her. “More agents are coming out now. They’re going to take your phone to analyze it further, make sure the caller didn’t somehow plant tracking software or anything like that on it, and then go over all of this with us again.”

“Should we let the other staff know?” she asked. Everyone in the office already knew something was up, and if they were in danger too, even indirectly, they had a right to know what was going on.

“Not just yet,” Lammers said. “Anyone you need to call before they get here?”

She briefly thought about contacting Ethan, then dismissed it. Until she’d heard the other FBI agents’ opinion, there was no point letting him know. She didn’t want to come off as weak or scared to him, especially over a phone message that might turn out to be nothing. He’d always been borderline overbearing in his protectiveness toward her.

No, she needed to handle this on her own. If he found out about the threat from someone at the agency later, at least she’d have demonstrated she was fully capable of taking care of herself in the meantime.

****

Ethan’s phone rang for the second time in the past minute. Same blocked number as the first time, and he didn’t feel like talking to anyone he didn’t know right now so he didn’t pick up. After another long day of joint training with the DEA team he was bagged, not to mention really fucking annoyed that Marisol still hadn’t bothered to call him back yet.

“Not gonna answer that?” Vance asked from across the booth in the diner they were eating at, ketchup bottle poised in one big hand, tilted over his mound of fries.

“Nah. If it was important they’d either text or leave a message.” He set it back down on the table and dug into his bacon cheeseburger, savoring every bite.

For the most part he ate really well but oh, God, it had been weeks since he’d eaten a meal like this. An entire plate full of fat-laden, empty calories, but they tasted so damn good he didn’t even feel guilty. And with the amount of training they were doing right now, he’d burn it off and then some tomorrow anyhow.

Vance moaned around a bite of his double bacon BBQ cheeseburger, nodded at Ethan in agreement. “Heaven on a bun. Texas beef is almost as good as the stuff we raised back home.”

“Oh yeah,” Ethan said, and took another bite of his. His phone rang again. Annoyed, he glanced at it, then saw it was Tuck calling. Immediately he dropped the burger, wiped his hands and answered. “Hey.”

“Celida’s been trying to reach you,” his team leader said without preamble.

That had been Celida calling? “Oh.” Why the blocked number? And why not leave a message then? “What about?”

“She just said something’s come up and she wanted to talk to you about it.”

“But she didn’t tell you what?”

“No.”

That was weird. Maybe it had to do with her and Tuck’s upcoming wedding in a couple months. It was the only thing he could think of, but didn’t explain the urgency or the blocked number. “Okay, I’ll call her back.”

“Sounded important,” Tuck added.

Ethan had no clue what she wanted. “Yeah, okay, I’ll call her right now. Thanks.” He disconnected and dialed the previous number.

Celida answered on the first ring, her tone full of annoyance. “Screening your calls, I see?”

“Something like that. You should have just texted me. I thought you were a telemarketer,” he joked.

She snorted. She knew as well as he did that the encryption on his phone blocked that kind of shit. “So, anything interesting going on down there today?” she asked, her tone casual.

Uh
… He looked across the table at Vance, who continued to watch him as he stuffed his face. “No, just the usual.” Lots of training, plenty of meetings, hardly any sleep and all the regular aches and pains that went with that. He was just shy of thirty but his body sure didn’t recover as quickly as it had a decade ago. “Why, what’s up?”

“Heard through the grapevine that there’s been a development in the Fuentes case, involving someone you might know.”

Ethan frowned, not liking the sound of that. “Who?”

“Assistant U.S. Attorney named Marisol Lorenzo.”

His spine went rigid. “What about her?”

“Agents from the Miami office just went to talk to her and her boss about a threat she received this morning.”

His hand tightened around the phone. “Someone threatened her? Her, specifically?”

“That’s what it sounds like. How well do you know her?”

“Pretty well. I used to, anyway. We grew up together.” But it was obvious he didn’t know her the way he used to. The Marisol he’d known before wouldn’t ignore him like this. He glanced at his watch. “What time did they head over, do you know?”

“About an hour ago. Probably still there now.”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to her.” One way or another, he was absolutely talking to her about this. Tonight.

“No problem. Thought you’d want to know.”

Oh, he definitely wanted to know if Marisol was being threatened. Because the thought of anyone hurting her triggered a deep, primal instinct he couldn’t shut off. He felt compelled to protect her, then find out who’d dared to threaten her and pound the shit out of them.

Why the hell hadn’t she called him for help? She knew he worked for the FBI. Not that he was with the HRT, but that he was an agent at least. It baffled and frustrated him.

“Trouble?” Vance asked, his burger paused halfway to his mouth.

“Someone involved in the Fuentes case just threatened Marisol. Local agents are talking to her and her boss now.”

At that Vance’s eyes widened and he set down his burger. “You serious?”

Did he look like he was joking? “Celida just told me.”

Now Vance frowned. “What kind of threat?”

Any threat against her personally was reason enough to be concerned, especially if it had to do with the Fuentes case. “Dunno. But I’m gonna find out.” He found her number in his contacts and dialed.

Of course it went straight to voicemail.

He didn’t bother texting, because he knew damn well she’d just ignore that too, same as she’d ignored all his other messages. Jesus, that aggravated him. She’d be working regularly with other law enforcement and had her own contacts, but it still made him nuts that she refused to come to him for help when she clearly could use it.

Ethan stood, pulled two twenties from his wallet and dropped them on the table. “Come on,” he said to Vance. “We’re heading to her office.” If she wouldn’t come to him, then he’d go to her.

Vance grabbed his burger and followed him out to the rental truck.

Chapter Five

By the time Ethan walked into the third floor of the High Intensity Drug Trafficking Area office in West Miami, he was good and pissed off. Several FBI agents had been leaving as he and Vance had come in the front entrance. Ethan hadn’t bothered to ask the lead investigator any questions, knowing he’d get nowhere. And he wanted to hear it from Marisol anyway.

Vance headed to the right when they stepped off the elevator. “Think I’ll sit this one out, champ,” he said in a wry voice, helping himself to a sports magazine laid out on the table in the waiting area. He sank onto one of the leather couches and immediately began reading, ignoring Ethan. Probably just as well. He didn’t want an audience for this conversation anyway.

He stalked to the reception desk. A young woman with light brown hair and dark-rimmed glasses looked up at him with wide blue eyes. “Can I help you, sir?”

He pulled out his ID. “Special Agent Ethan Cruz, here to see Marisol Lorenzo.” He was going to find out what the hell was going on, and exactly what her problem with him was.

The brunette nodded and got to her feet. “I’ll tell her you’re here.”

“You do that,” he said with a tight smile. He was beyond the ability to be pleasant at the moment.

She reappeared a few moments later, gave him a hesitant smile. “Right this way.”

Ethan followed her down a hallway lined with offices, where she stopped at the last one on the left. “Go right in,” she murmured.

He walked through the door and stopped. Marisol sat behind a wide, polished desk housing a computer and neatly stacked files. Her long, dark hair was pulled into some sort of clip at the back of her head, and what he could see of her body was concealed by a pale gray suit jacket and cream-colored blouse.

She was on the phone with someone, furiously writing notes on a yellow pad of paper in front of her. She cast him a fleeting glance then dismissed him as she kept on with her conversation.

Ethan folded his arms across his chest and stood there while the door clicked shut behind him, his annoyance growing with each passing second. He didn’t budge from his spot directly in front of her desk, didn’t take his eyes off her as she spoke to the caller. If she thought she could ignore him for long, she’d better think again.

Finally she hung up and lifted that sea green gaze to his, the look in her eyes cool. “I guess this means you heard about the message?” she asked.

A muscle bunched in his jaw. “Yeah.” When she didn’t say anything else, just kept looking at him with that closed expression, his temper snapped. “Dammit, Soli, why didn’t you call me?”

She set down her pen and leaned back in her seat with a sigh. “Because there was no need to involve you. I’ve handled it. The police and FBI are looking into it. You’re busy, I’m busy and I didn’t want to bother you. I’m sorry you felt the need to interrupt your day and come over here. But there’s nothing you can do for me.”

Ethan stared at her. She thought she could dismiss him so easily? Not freaking likely. And he was thoroughly sick of this whole too-polite, distant thing she was pulling. As if they were barely acquaintances. “You’re not a bother. You should have called me.”

She shook her head. “I’m not your responsibility, Ethan,” she said, her tone firm and edged with a hint of incredulity. “You don’t have to play the white knight anymore just because you’re in town.”

More than the words, something in her tone bothered him. “You’ve got a problem with me looking out for you?”

She rolled her eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t call you. Because I knew you’d react like this—that you’d take it as a personal insult if I didn’t.”

Damn right he was insulted. “You used to trust me. I know we haven’t kept in touch lately, but what’s happened to keep you from turning to me for help with something like this?”

“I still trust you, that’s not the point.”