Chapter 8
Eight
“Hey.” Deputy Marshal Ethan Butler held out his hand, his dark hair damp against his forehead thanks to the rain.
Luca shook with him, and they headed inside the hospital’s main building. “Everything ready?”
In the end, it had been another day before the call indicating the patient was arriving.
The marshal had told him to meet up at the west wing, side door.
An entrance rarely used by people coming and going from the hospital.
After Luca’s evaluation of the hospital, he had decided this was the best entrance to use for their patient.
From here, it was straight to the elevator and up two floors.
Now that they were inside, he could see that maintenance had blocked off this entrance to keep people from using it and the closest elevator.
“Good to go.” Butler nodded.
Luca spotted a scratch on the side of the man’s neck. “Did you get in a fight today?”
Butler shook his head. “I went kayaking this morning and scratched myself on a branch.” He touched the scratch with two fingers and winced.
“You should get a doctor to look at that.”
He smelled her perfume before he realized she had approached them. “Get a doctor to look at what?” Kira reacted to her own question. “Never mind, maybe I don’t want to know.”
Luca smiled at her. “It’s just the scratch on his neck.”
She peered at the side of Butler’s head. “You should clean that. Put some antibiotic cream on it.” She thumbed over her shoulder. “I have some Hello Kitty bandages in my office, if you want.”
Butler snorted. “I’m good, but thanks.” He looked at his watch. “We have about five minutes before the detail is bringing your patient in, Dr. Yassan.”
“Great.”
Luca had been sent some basic details, just so he knew they were protecting the right person. Fifty-eight years old, Mexican descent. Suffering from a rare blood disorder. There hadn’t been a photo included in the dossier, however. Evidently, even his appearance was being kept under wraps.
“I’m going to head outside to meet them when they get here.” Butler headed for the door.
Luca turned to Kira. “Thanks for the tip about Destiny and Ralph, by the way. I just spent a couple of hours this evening digging back through their work histories, trying to see if we missed anything. We focused our search on the information we had about Rocky Mountain Land Development, but with the foundation and the other small companies, real-estate investments, and holdings they have across the city, there was more to look at than just what had been exposed regarding Rousseau and the land grab. A friend of mine, she’s a tech whiz and a financial genius, took a look at the foundation’s income and investments. ”
“I’m not sure I want to get into a real-life mystery. The book I’m reading is exciting enough.”
He chuckled.
“Although, I have to admit I’m always curious if wealthy people actually have money or if they’re just leveraged to the hilt and it’s all about flash.”
“In their case? They have a lot of liabilities, but also a serious nest egg. Ralph made a ton of money ten years ago when he set up his business. He hit the market hot and fast and ended up making a killing. Like freaky fast. Real rags-to-riches stuff.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t sound like it would’ve been entirely legal.”
“All of it is totally aboveboard. It’s just rare for someone to make that much money so fast.”
“Almost like someone was giving them a helping hand, or they were catching breaks everywhere they went.”
“I thought you said you weren’t interested in a real-life mystery?”
She smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to quit my job to become your sidekick anytime soon.”
“That’s a shame.”
Her smile turned to gentle laughter, lighting her eyes.
Before either of them could say anything else, the doors opened and two men in suits walked in, followed by an older man, who glanced at Kira and nodded. His eyes assessed Luca, and he followed the two men past them to the elevator.
A guy in a wheelchair was being pushed by another suited man, two more behind them. Ethan Butler, the US marshal, brought up the rear.
He nodded for them both to go in the same direction. “I already told them where to go.”
The marshals were securely bringing the man to the hospital, but if they remained outside the room on duty—standing guard—for too long, it would cause too much of a commotion. People would start asking questions if there was a permanent detail of federal agents in the hospital.
That was where Luca came in, coordinating with the marshals and other people he trusted to watch out for this man. He had contracted his own team of private security and off-duty cops but would do the bulk of the protection himself.
He and Kira waited for the elevator to empty, then rode up two floors.
As he stepped out, he saw them wheel the patient into the hospital room while two US marshals stayed by the door.
The wing of the hospital on this floor didn’t have many patients.
Yesterday, a sudden leak in the HVAC system meant that hospital security needed to clear all the patients in this wing to other rooms, effectively emptying this part of the hospital.
Luca stood at the door, watching the man shift from the wheelchair to the bed with the help of the two doctors. Kira wore conservative black slacks, a cashmere sweater, and a delicate gold chain around her neck, from which hung a small cross.
As the patient settled back onto the pillows, Luca got a look at his face. Dark eyes set back in his face, heavy gray eyebrows. His hair and mustache matched the color of his brows, thick and wavy like he’d run his hands through it.
Luca didn’t need to be told what this man’s name was.
After all, he kept tabs on the federal government’s most wanted criminals.
Francisco Abalos had been one of Mexico’s most notorious cartel leaders for nearly thirty years before his nephew tried to murder him several months back.
Now his nephew, Antonio, was in charge of the cartel, and Francisco had gone underground, disappearing completely.
A guy who had murdered countless people and damaged so many others with narcotics trafficking and human trafficking operations.
Now he was under the protection of the US Marshals who, in exchange for all the intel he had, would make sure he was treated for the rare disease he had.
Seemed like a sweet deal, if a person could net themselves something like that.
Luca didn’t think he could be a marshal. It seemed entirely too much like operating in the gray areas. Making deals. But they did catch dangerous fugitives, so he’d give them credit for that.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” Francisco flashed pearly white false teeth. “Shall we begin?”
Deputy Marshal Butler said, “We’ll get out of your hair. But don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” He motioned to Luca. “This is Mr. Saxon. He’s now in charge of your security.”
Francisco leveled a steady gaze at Luca. A guy wrinkled with age, and clearly ill, but he had such presence that Luca wanted to shift his stance. But he didn’t. He forced his body to remain still, pulling on all his training. “Nice to meet you.”
Francisco barked a laugh that made Kira jump. “I’m sure it’s not.” He glanced at Kira. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”
Kira shook her head. “Not to worry.”
The doctor stood on the other side of the bed, an older man with tanned features.
Dr. Torres wasn’t the kind of guy you’d think spent hours of the day poring over test tubes and lab results.
More like the kind of man you would find surrounded by beautiful women at a fancy resort in Monaco, under the guise of being at a medical conference.
The kind of doctor it took serious money to find—and he was from right here in Renegade.
If he had created some kind of cutting-edge treatment, Luca figured it would be worth the price to get him to do this. As long as he wasn’t here to kill the patient and make it look like an accident.
Francisco looked at him. “Saxon?”
“Luca Saxon.” He nodded, unsure if the guy wanted him to explain the years of service and deployments he’d experienced, or the two years fighting wildfires in rough terrain, or the fact he was now licensed as a private investigator in this city.
Truthfully, Luca didn’t feel the need to justify himself to this guy.
All he wanted was to do his job. “I’ll be outside. ”
He looked around before he walked out. Assessing the room that he had chosen specifically for this patient. No window. Adjoining bathroom that only had one door—the one into this room. Luca wandered over to it and looked around inside, confirming it was empty.
He went to the door and stepped into the hall, where the marshals had gathered. Definitely not inconspicuous, having all these guys with silver star badges on their belts hanging around in the hospital. As if anyone wouldn’t immediately guess they were protecting someone high-profile.
Butler broke off the conversation. “You’re good?”
“Any idea how long they’re going to be here?” The initial paperwork suggested a few days, but Luca had prepared a detail for longer than that. If this thing dragged out weeks, he would have to make some adjustments.
“I’m sure they’ll let you know what their plans are.” Butler hesitated. “And…maybe if he mentions anything about smuggling routes between Mexico and Texas, you could write it down and pass it over to us?”
“He hasn’t told you anything yet?” This was definitely some kind of deal if Francisco had given them nothing so far. He tried to think back to what Judge Mullinax had said in that meeting, but all he could remember was Kira saying no to coffee.
“He refuses to say anything until the treatment is complete.” Butler shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t really blame the guy. He gets what he wants, and as long as he holds up his end of the bargain, then so do we.”
“Do I need to worry about Kira’s safety in there with Dr. Torres and the head of a cartel?”