Eight #2
Their server arrived with their meals a few minutes later. Nina closed the laptop, placing it on the seat beside her. He sensed she would have preferred to work over lunch.
“Anything else?” Ashley asked. She seemed to be looking at him, so he glanced questioningly at Nina and Creed.
“Looks good, thanks.” Nina’s tone was polite, if a bit reserved.
“I’d like to say grace.” Jackson longed to take Nina’s hand in his, but didn’t. Distance, remember? “Dear Lord Jesus, we thank You for this food we are about to eat. Please continue to keep us safe in Your care and guide us on the right path to the truth. Amen.”
“Amen,” Nina and Creed echoed.
“What if there is a link between my Uncle Mark and the drug kingpin in your trial?” Nina asked after a few moments. “Does that mean my mother’s cold case isn’t a part of this?”
“I don’t know,” Jackson answered honestly. “If your mother was killed by the drug traffickers your uncle worked with, then yeah. If she was murdered by someone else, then I’m not sure how they can be connected.”
“I think the best way to answer that is to find that link. If there is one,” Creed said thoughtfully.
“It just seems odd that these guys are shooting up SUVs and motel rooms so indiscriminately. As if they’re determined to eliminate everyone involved.
Seems if only you were the target, there wouldn’t be so much overkill. ”
“Okay.” Nina seemed satisfied with that. “As soon as we’re finished here, I’ll go back to searching for my uncle’s arrest report. I hope it helps.”
“Can’t hurt.” Jackson dug into his ribs with a renewed sense of purpose. Creed was right about the blatant shooting attempts against them. Especially considering the upcoming trial.
If not for his being in Dallas for the court case, he wouldn’t have been close enough to help Nina escape her uncle’s cabin. It made sense the two incidents were connected.
Nina finished her meal first and went back to working the computer. By the time he and Creed were done, she had the police report up on the screen.
“It doesn’t say much,” she said with a frown. Her fingers danced along the keyboard. “I don’t see any accomplices listed. I sent you each a copy. You may need to follow up with the Dallas PD to learn more.”
“Sounds good.” Jackson wiped his sticky fingers on the wet wipe provided, then reached for his wallet. He pulled out enough cash to cover their meals, along with a tip, then slid out of the booth. “Let’s hit the road.”
Nina closed the laptop and scooted out of the booth. Creed stood and followed behind them as they left the restaurant. Jackson felt good that they were making progress. Slowly, maybe, but still moving forward.
“Let’s swing by the rental house,” Jackson suggested. “If the cleaning crew is still there, we can wait for them to finish.”
“Okay by me.” Creed glanced over his shoulder at Nina. “What’s the address?”
She rattled it off. “It’s on Lake Belton. I figured that staying outside of Temple was better for us. Just in case this guy somehow knows we’re tracking my mother.”
Jackson nodded thoughtfully. If this was related to their cold case, the gunmen would eventually show up in Temple. He wondered if there was a way to use that knowledge to trap them. Maybe setting up another rental property under their real names would draw them out.
Yet the way they kept coming in with guns blazing meant they’d need to be stationed far enough away from the residence to catch a license plate number or a picture of the gunmen.
Something to think about.
“We need to stock up on some food. At the very least breakfast items and coffee.”
“Okay.” Jackson nodded toward the store up ahead on their right. “I’ll grab the basics. Frozen pizza for dinner, breakfast food and coffee.”
Once they had some groceries, Creed continued toward the rental property. “Tell me what’s in the police report,” Creed said. “I can’t read and drive.”
He opened the document on his phone and quickly scanned it. “The timing is interesting. Looks like Lange was arrested five days after Anna’s murder.”
“I saw that,” Nina agreed. “But why would a drug dealer attack my mother if my uncle wasn’t arrested until five days later?”
“Not sure.” He continued reading. “Sounds like this was a sting operation. The cops set up surveillance outside a two-story home in Dallas. They raided the place and found drugs and arrested Mark. A cop, along with another guy were killed at the scene.”
“That’s interesting. No ID on the dead guy listed in the report?” Creed asked.
“No. But I’m sure Nina can find another report referencing the same date, time and place of this one.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m on it.” She sounded distracted. No doubt she’d gone back to looking at the yearbook photos.
Fifteen minutes later, Creed pulled up to their rental property. There was a car in the driveway, and two women were carrying mops, buckets and other cleaning supplies from the house to the vehicle.
“Perfect timing,” Jackson said. “Looks like we’ll be able to get in a few minutes early.”
“I found the other police report,” Nina said. “I’ve sent it to both of you. The dead man’s name is Joe Foster and he shot at the officers who returned fire, taking him out.”
“He was young, barely twenty-two,” Jackson mused as he scanned the report.
“My uncle was twenty-one when he was arrested.” Nina sighed. “Only three years older than my mother.”
“This is a good place for us to start.” Now that they were parked down the road, Creed was scanning the information on his phone. “On the surface it doesn’t appear that your uncle or this Foster guy were involved in Diego Sanchez’s Mexican drug cartel, but we may find something useful.”
Jackson knew this was how investigations went. Tracking one piece of intel and another until you ended up with a more complete picture.
Still, he chafed at the painstaking process. He’d rather have something actionable.
The cleaners drove away. He nudged Creed. “Let’s go.”
His buddy nodded and put the car in gear to pull into the driveway. Nina closed the laptop and hopped out. Jackson joined her, while Creed waited behind the wheel. She entered the four-digit code on the lock box and opened it to remove the house key.
“I’ll open the garage so we can park inside.” She disappeared inside and a few minutes later, the garage door slowly rolled up.
The place was nicer than he’d anticipated. Owens wouldn’t love the added expense, but that was too bad. Staying under the radar was more important than their budget.
“Okay, this works,” Creed announced, looking around. “Nina, you take the master suite.”
“Thanks.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and Jackson knew she was still thinking about her mother. Rather than checking out the bedrooms, she carried the laptop to the kitchen table. “I need to look into Diego Sanchez’s background, too.”
“Creed and I were both involved in the drug bust. It was coordinated with Border Patrol.” He dropped into the seat beside her. “Although offhand, I can’t remember the names of everyone else involved.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of his parents.” She glanced at him. “Maybe his father or uncle or someone else in his family was a drug kingpin, too.”
“That’s possible.” He leaned forward to watch as she entered Diego Sanchez into the criminal database. “The last name Sanchez is as common as Smith and Jones. Not sure it will be easy to pinpoint a family connection.”
She nodded absently. “There’s a program I can use that lists known associates. Even if they’re not related by blood, that should help narrow down a few people to dig into.”
When she turned her head, her soft, springy hair brushed against his arm. As if burned, Jackson jumped up to put distance between them. Across the room, Creed sent him an arched look, clearly aware of his attraction for their colleague.
Bad idea to mix his career with his personal life. By the expression on Creed’s face, his fellow ranger felt the same way.
Nina was not for him. End of story.
Restless, he paced the length of the room. They should have gotten that second laptop, he thought with a sigh. For long minutes nobody spoke. He was about to suggest Creed head out to grab a second computer, when Nina said, “I think I found something.”
“What?” He crossed the room to peer over her shoulder.
“A man by the name of Ernesto Sanchez is listed as a known associate of Diego. He’s twenty years older than your guy, so he could be his father or uncle, as I said.” She turned in her seat to look up at him. “He’s been serving a life sentence for drug trafficking and murder.”
“Do you mind if I take a look?” He sat beside her, turning the computer so he could scan the information.
“Ernesto was arrested a month after your uncle.” He drummed his fingers on the table, his thoughts whirling.
“Hard to know if that’s a coincidence, or if your uncle gave him up as part of his own plea deal. ”
Nina sighed. “I wish I knew what happened. If only I’d been able to meet with my uncle…”
“Hey, we’ll figure it out.” He went back to the information on Ernesto Sanchez. Then he froze. “He was in the same prison as Mark.”
“They house a lot of convicts, that doesn’t mean they knew each other,” Nina protested.
“Maybe not.” Still, he couldn’t tear his gaze from the screen. They’d been searching for a connection between their current trial and Mark Lange’s murder.
And now they had one.