Thirteen
Why had she kissed Jackson? Nina could blame it on the danger, escaping in the canoe and then getting overturned in the water, but that wasn’t the real reason she’d kissed him.
She was falling in love with him. Which was a really bad idea. Once this was over…
Nope. Not going there. Squaring her shoulders, she glanced at her computer.
Time to focus on something far more important than her ridiculous feelings for Jackson.
They had a known drug dealer by the name of Kirk Fletcher.
She typed his name into the criminal database, hoping to learn more.
“Maybe Fletcher is associated with my Uncle Mark.”
“Doubtful,” Creed said. “He’s thirty years old, too young to have been dealing drugs when your uncle was in the business.”
“Maybe the son of a man who worked with him then?” She understood why Jackson wanted them to keep an open mind, but she was convinced the danger was related to her mother’s cold case murder.
Deep down, she hoped her biological father wasn’t involved. That this was all some strange drug deal gone wrong, and it was happening because someone wanted revenge.
“As soon as our clothes are ready, we need to get out of here.” Jackson frowned. “I know the cops are outside, but it’s only a matter of time before another pair of gunmen show up.”
“Do you want to use the rental vehicle to get to a motel in the area?” Creed asked.
“I don’t know.” Jackson raked one hand through his wet hair. Nina could see the frustration radiating off him. “I feel like that’s a better option than getting a ride from the police. I don’t want to be stuck somewhere without wheels.”
“I agree.” Creed shrugged. “You altered the license plate, right? And the car has been in the garage the whole time we’ve been here. It should be safe enough for a few hours.”
Nina didn’t know enough about how they were found, to argue. Yet thinking about how they escaped out back, using the canoe to cross the lake, reminded her of the gunfire at the Sunset Motel. The way the bullets had pounded through the confined room was horrifying.
“There’s only one way in or out of a motel room.” She glanced nervously at Jackson. “I’m not sure that’s a safe alternative.”
“I know, I don’t like it either.” Jackson sighed. “But for now, we don’t have a choice. We can’t rent another property under the company you used to get this place. And I’m not sure using the boss’s name is going to be any better.”
Frowning at the laptop, she tried to come up with another way to obtain a rental property.
Her mind was coming up blank, and that concerned her.
She was the technical support person here.
Pressing her fingertips into her temples, she tried to relax.
There had to be a way to hide their location from anyone who cared to look.
“Hey, don’t stress.” Jackson rested a hand on her shoulder.
She couldn’t seem to stop herself from covering his hand with hers.
He’d saved her life. Again. And while this hero worship she felt for him was a problem, she was grateful he was there to get her through the danger.
“We can’t get a rental house in the middle of the night anyway.
We’ll find a place to lay low for a few hours, then plan our next steps. ”
“Okay.” She stared at the face of Kirk Fletcher that had come up on her screen.
He did look young, his eyes flat and hard.
She didn’t know anything about why he’d turned to a life of crime, but his choice to do so had cost him his life.
Closing the laptop, she stood, grabbing the edge of the blanket around her. “I’ll check the laundry.”
“Thanks.” Jackson smiled. “Creed, what do you think about waking our boss in the middle of the night?”
“Why not?” Creed shrugged and pulled out his phone. “He should know what’s going on.”
Nina entered the laundry room just as the machine shut down. Perfect timing. She quickly tossed their damp clothes in the dryer. Thirty minutes should be enough time.
She was hesitant to leave the rental house, even with knowing they’d been found there. Moving back into the living area, she noticed the officers still working the crime scene outside.
Seeing the dead man lying there with a black tarp covering him helped her focus. She turned back to Jackson and Creed. “Okay, we need to see if we can find any of Kirk Fletcher’s known associates. One or more of them could have been his accomplice.”
“I like that.” Jackson looked relieved to have something to dig into. “Creed, we may need to let the DA’s office in Dallas know about these attacks. Maybe their investigator can help us find a connection between Fletcher and Diego Sanchez.”
“We can do that, but maybe not at three in the morning.” Creed rubbed the back of his neck. “Truthfully, I’m not anxious to let them know I took down a bad guy.”
Nina dropped into the chair in front of the computer. With the blanket snug around her shoulders, she searched for Fletcher’s known associates. Two names popped up on the screen. “Do either of you recognize the name Manuel Esperanza? Or Zane Cartland?”
“Esperanza sounds familiar.” Jackson frowned. “Was he on the defense witness list?”
“I don’t remember.” Creed cocked his head. “No, wait, I do know that name. He was arrested at the same time we took down Sanchez.”
Nina arched a brow, then went back to her computer search. “You’re right, Esperanza is still in prison.” She sat back in her seat. “He is linked to Sanchez if they were arrested at the same time. Is his case going to trial soon?”
“That’s right, I remember him.” Jackson hovered near her shoulder. “He accepted a plea deal. Either way, he’s obviously not the one who fired at us.”
“So maybe Zane Cartland.” She dug into him, interested to see the guy had done two years for selling drugs five years ago. She stared at his face, trying to align it with her memory of the two men who’d stood outside her uncle’s cabin. “Jackson, what do you think? Isn’t he one of the gunmen?”
Jackson leaned in close enough that if she turned her head, her lips would brush his cheek. No kissing, she silently reminded herself.
“He could be,” Jackson finally said, straightening. “I’m not sure I could swear to it in court, but his basic weight and height fits.”
She continued searching on Zane Cartland. The guy was younger than Fletcher, at twenty-six. Too young to have been involved with her Uncle Mark.
His driver’s license photo bloomed on the screen.
She gasped when she noticed his last known address was right here in Temple, Texas.
“Jackson, check this out. Cartland lives in a house that’s only a few miles from the trailer park.
” She looked at the expiration date on the license, knowing many people didn’t bother to update their driver’s license with a new address until they had to.
“Well, at least according to this, which is four years old.”
“That’s interesting.” He once more leaned over her shoulder. His warm breath caressed her cheek. “We need to check it out.”
“Or we could ask the local law enforcement to do that,” Creed pointed out dryly.
“We could, but I’d like to see the guy for myself.” Jackson straightened. “Maybe if I see him up close I’ll recognize him as one of the guys outside Mark Lange’s cabin.”
“Sounds good to me.” She kept her gaze on the screen, ignoring Jackson’s warm presence beside her. “As soon as our clothes are dry, we can head over to check it out.” She stared at Zane Cartland’s address, wondering if they were on to something.
Was Cartland the gunman who’d been on the fishing boat, trying to finish the job? Or a guy who once ran with a rough crowd but had since turned his life around?
There was only one way to know for sure. She shivered, trying not to focus too much on the danger. She had faith in Jackson and Creed.
And prayed that God would continue to protect them.
* * *
Jackson stood behind Nina, struggling to remain objective.
He wanted nothing more than to swing by Zane Cartland’s address, but he also didn’t want Nina anywhere near the possible gunman.
Glancing at Creed, he wondered if he could convince Creed to stay back with Nina so he could approach the place alone.
Knowing Creed, he’d never agree.
“Wait a minute.” Nina went back to the computer. “Wasn’t there a Cartland in my dad’s high school yearbook?”
He frowned. “So what if there is? It’s not an uncommon name. I don’t see why that matters.”
“It might not.” Her gaze never wavered from the computer screen. “Yep, here he is. Robert Cartland. And he had a younger brother in my mom’s class, too. His name was Daniel. I remember seeing it because his photograph was right next to Ellen Carter’s name.”
“You think either Robert or Daniel Cartland is Zane’s father?” Jackson glanced at Creed, who shrugged. “I’m not sure that’s enough to assume he’s involved in this.”
“I get that, but doesn’t it make sense to rule out a possible connection?” Nina gestured to the screen. “There’s a slight family resemblance.”
Jackson wasn’t sure he agreed but had to admit that a known associate of Fletcher should be considered a possible suspect. “Yeah, okay. We were going to check him out anyway.”
“Good. Maybe I’m wrong, but I can’t help but wonder if Ellen Carter knew Daniel. Maybe they even dated.” Nina rose to her feet. “I think the dryer just shut off.”
Jackson padded down the hall behind her. A few minutes later, she thrust his warm from the dryer clothes into his arms. “Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” She held his gaze for a moment, but then quickly turned away, disappearing into her room to change.
When Jackson was dressed, he found Creed talking to a detective from the Temple Police Department in the kitchen. Nina joined them a few minutes later.