Linc moved the video ahead. He was watching El Jefe when the Botero came up for auction, zoomed in when he noticed the man’s interest. When the bidding started, El Jefe made a slight nod of his head and the man across from him, heavyset, small mouth, and balding, raised his paddle. Every time El Jefe nodded, the man increased the bid until finally the painting belonged to him.
The moment the item had been acquired, El Jefe rose from his chair, the blonde stood up, and both of them left the ballroom. At the end of the evening, their chairs remained empty.
By the time Linc turned off the computer, Carly felt drained. Both of them stood up, and Ross Townsend came forward.
“I’ll find out who bought the Botero,” he said. “And get the names of the people at table twenty-three, figure who sat where.”
Linc nodded. “The sooner the better,” he said.
They split up at the front door. The valet brought up Linc’s Mercedes and they went back to his apartment. The plan had been to return to Iron Springs, but Linc wanted to wait till they had the information they needed.
Since they both had businesses to run, sitting around wasn’t an option. Linc retreated to his study, Carly set up her laptop, and both of them went to work.
* * *
It was hard to concentrate with so much going on in his head. Sitting behind the computer on his desk, Linc worked online, going over updates on his New Mexico road construction project, making a couple of suggestions, then returning an e-mail from Millie, reminding him of an upcoming lunch meeting with the head of a small community college that received a substantial annual donation.
Linc asked Millie to postpone the meeting till next week and hoped to hell he wouldn’t have to set it back again. But things with El Jefe were heating up and he had no idea whether or not the pot was going to boil over, or if it did, who was going to get burned.
He returned a phone call in regard to the tire rebuilding plant outside Pleasant Hill, found out the county commissioners would be voting on the project before the end of the month. He planned to be there along with his environmental team, hoped they got the approval they needed.
He was on the land line when his cell phone signaled. Grabbing it off the desk, he saw Townsend’s name on the screen, ended the call he was on, and pressed the phone against his ear. “Cain.”
“I’ve got what you need,” Ross said. “I’m on my way over.”
Anticipation poured through him as the call abruptly ended. Townsend had found El Jefe. Things could start moving now, driving toward a final resolution, whatever that turned out to be.
It was only a few minutes later that the intercom buzzed, announcing the investigator’s arrival. Linc punched in the elevator code and walked out to the living room to meet him.
“Townsend’s here,” Linc said.
Carly rose from the sofa, where her laptop sat on the coffee table in front of her. “He has the information already?”
“Apparently he does.”
The elevator doors slid open and Ross walked into the apartment. He was frowning, not a good sign.
Linc didn’t waste any time. “Who is he?”
“His name’s Raul Zapata. Owns hotels and a chain of fast-food restaurants, all fairly recent purchases. Got a place on four hundred acres in the middle of nowhere out Highway 80 near Big Sandy. Built a house there about a year ago. On Google Maps it looks like a fortress. He also rents an apartment in Dallas.”
“That it?”
“On the surface, there isn’t that much. It’s like he kind of appears out of nowhere. I’ll have more once I start digging. I figured you’d want to know. I came in person in case there were some decisions you wanted to make.”
“That’s good work, Ross. The question is what do we do with the information?”
Carly moved closer. “I think we should call Agent Taggart. The FBI might know this man. Or once they know his name, they can look into his criminal activities. They have ways of getting information we don’t have.”
“She’s right,” Ross said. “If you’re going to stop him, you need help.”
“I don’t like it. We went to them before and it didn’t turn out well for themorus.”
“Do you trust Agent Taggart?” Carly asked.
“Taggart, yes. Even after that clusterfuck with the cargo pickup, Ithink Quinn’s a straight shooter. Unfortunately I have no idea about the rest of them.”
Silence fell.
