“I’ll make some calls. We should be able to verify when Levy left Denver.” Griff left the weapon on the table, choosing instead to move into the other room to use his phone.
“Fine, you do that.” Levy crossed his arms over his chest again. “You’ll learn I’m telling the truth.”
Dominic exchanged a glance with Kendra. He knew they were both thinking the same thing. If Levy wasn’t the shooter, then who was?
And more importantly, how did he keep finding them?
Kendra was growing convinced that Levy was one of the good guys. Smart of Griff to make sure, but if Levy had been in Denver as he claimed, he couldn’t have been in the large GMC Sierra truck shooting at Dominic outside the Redwood Motel in Greybull.
And that meant the real shooter was still out there, somewhere.
Kendra leaned toward believing Levy’s story since Smoky hadn’t alerted on his scent. Not that she had provided her K9 with a scent source, but if her dog had caught the bad guy’s scent at some point during the past fifteen hours, especially that first night when she’d crossed the shooter’s tracks in the snow, she felt certain Smoky would have alerted on him.
She reached over to touch Dom’s arm. Their attempt to trap the shooter hadn’t quite worked out the way they’d hoped. But if Levy was innocent, then meeting with him would help fill in a few blanks.
They’d already learned that Dom’s father shouldn’t have gotten a pilot’s license in his new name. Yet she didn’t blame him for wanting to do something other than working at the power company.
“I’ll make some coffee,” Raine announced, breaking the long silence.
“I’ll do it.” Dom pulled away from Kendra and rose to his feet. His expression appeared to be carved in stone. She hoped he wasn’t feeling guilty. His father’s actions weren’t a reflection on Dominic. Yet she could tell he was upset by Levy’s comments about his father breaking the rules of witness protection, which resulted in him being murdered.
Taking her parents down with him.
“Do you have anything else to go on?” Levy asked.
“We identified a dark-colored GMC Sierra as likely belonging to the shooter,” Kendra said. “No license plate, though.”
“I don’t drive a GMC Sierra,” Levy muttered.
“Doesn’t mean you didn’t get a different car to show up here,” she shot back. “You can’t blame us for being wary.”
Levy’s scowl deepened, but he didn’t say anything more. The silence hung heavy in the room as they waited for Griff to finish his conversation.
“Okay, I’ve been able to verify your vehicle left the Denver toll road last night at seven thirty in the evening.” Griff returned to the kitchen table and picked up Levy’s weapon, then handed it back to him, butt first. “I’m sorry, but after everything Dom and Kendra have been through, we had a right to be concerned.”
“Says you,” Levy groused, holstering his weapon. “I think you allowed your paranoia to get the best of you.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you understood the steps Dom has taken to keep us off the bad guy’s radar.” Kendra didn’t care if she sounded defensive. The danger had been nonstop for what felt like days, instead of hours. “Rerouting an ISP address to hide our location isn’t easy. Being found despite that made us think someone within law enforcement is involved.”
“Rerouting an ISP address?” Levy shook his head. “Maybe our tech could do that, but I can’t. And I doubt there’re many cops out there with that ability.” He glanced at Dom. “That’s why we hire technical computer experts like him.”
Kendra had to admit, Levy made a good point. She turned to watch Dom fill a coffeepot with water. “Dom, who else knows how to do that ISP rerouting thing?”
He shrugged and started the coffee before turning to face her. “It’s a skill many computer geeks would know how to perform. It’s something I’ve done specifically to assist our clients, which include law enforcement officials. To be honest, more bad guys use it than those of us who stay on the right side of the law.”
“I’m not sure your average hired gun in Wyoming or Montana knows how to do that,” Levy said. “They’d need help.”
“That’s true. But with enough money, anything is possible.” Kendra spread her hands wide. “If someone out there did have that ability, they could be raking in big bucks to track us down.”
“What about finding and tracking a disposable cell phone?” Raine asked. “Is that also something anyone with exceptional computer skills could do?”
“Maybe, but that one is harder because we paid for those phones in cash.” Dom returned to the table, his expression less grim. “They’d have to know our location and then figure out a way to hack into the store video to identify us.”
That seemed less likely. She sighed, feeling as if they were spinning their wheels.
“I’m having trouble understanding why anyone would pay to have us killed,” Dom said. “Especially six years after my father was killed. I’m no threat to anyone.” He glanced at Levy. “I thought maybe you wanted to silence me to protect your career. But if that’s not it, then why me? And why now?”
“Dom has a point.” Raine frowned. “Although we know the hospice nurse, Helen Gingrass, was also killed. So it could still be related to Stuart Ramsey’s confession.”
