He checked his watch as he drove toward the house at the back of the ranch. El Jefe’s cargo pickup was scheduled for oneA.M.Figuring they were going to be up late, on the way home from Greenville, Linc had stopped at the grocery store and stocked up a little on food. He had bought a cook-at-home pizza.
As evening settled in, Carly made a salad and they ate the pizza for supper. Linc was hungry and pepperoni was his favorite, but Carly picked at the meal and barely finished a single slice.
The purple of evening slid into full darkness. A fingernail moon rose over the harsh Texas landscape. Nine o’clock approached and still no call from El Jefe. Agent McKinley was back in the yard and ready to make the run, but he couldn’t leave until the text came in with the pick-up location.
Time passed with agonizing slowness. After trying and failing to catch up on some reading, Linc started pacing, wishing he had something to do besides worry.
Carly had gone in to use his home gym, anything to tire herself out. She was in great physical condition, which he’d noticed even before he’d taken her to bed, her body strong and nicely toned. She liked to stay in shape, used his gym whenever she had time, which there seemed to be plenty of tonight.
At five to ten, she walked back into the living room fresh out of the shower, smelling sweetly feminine and making him want her. Linc forced his mind in another direction and willed El Jefe to call.
At exactly ten-thirty, Carly’s cell phone chimed a text. Linc read the message over her shoulder.
“Take 154 through Harleton. North on Baker. Stay right . . . 7.2 miles to red barn on N side.”
She looked up at him. “Harleton. That’s less than two hours away.”
“You call McKinley and give him the location. I’ll call Taggart, bring him up to speed.”
They hurriedly made the calls, then settled back down in the living room. The plan was, after the cargo was picked up and McKinley was on the road to whatever delivery location he was given, he would call Quinn Taggart and fill him in. Taggart would phone Linc’s cell with an update.
McKinley didn’t plan to confront El Jefe’s men, but there wasn’t the slightest doubt the agent was putting himself in grave danger. McKinley wasn’t wearing a wire. It was too dangerous. If he was searched at the loading site or later at the drop site and El Jefe’s men found the recording device, there was every chance he’d be killed.
The FBI would be monitoring his cell phone’s GPS location and the feds would be somewhere in the area, but if things got dicey, they might not get there in time to help him.
And any interference from the FBI would put Carly in even greater danger.
The hands on the clock seemed to move with excruciating slowness. Linc tried to watch a late-late comedy show but in his dark mood, nothing seemed funny. OneA.M.finally arrived. Since neither of them would be sleeping until this was over, Carly went into the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee.
TwoA.M.No call from Taggart. Three. Three-thirty and still no phone call.
Fighting a battle with exhaustion, Carly took a sip of coffee from the mug she had just refilled. “Agent Taggart said McKinley would contact him as soon as the cargo was loaded and the truck was back on the road. That should have happened by now.”
“Depends on how much cargo they had to load, how soon they actually got started—could be anything.”
“You think it’s drugs?”
“Probably.”
Carly leaned back and closed her eyes, though Linc doubted she’d be able to fall asleep. Restless, he headed down the hall to his office, sat down, and went through his e-mail, but it was tough to concentrate. Eventually he gave up and padded back into the living room, was pleased to see Carly had actually fallen asleep.
At four-thirty in the morning Linc’s cell started ringing. He grabbed the phone off the coffee table. Carly’s eyes snapped open and she jerked upright on the sofa.
“It’s Taggart.” Linc hit the speaker and set the phone back down on the table in front of them.
“El Jefe’s men never showed,” Quinn said. “McKinley waited two hours before he finally gave up, turned the truck around, and started back to the yard.”
Not good. “Any idea what happened?” Linc asked.
“Not the slightest. Maybe it was a test to see if the truck would actually show up.”
“Or maybe they know we talked to the FBI,” Carly said glumly.
“At this point, there’s no reason to make that assumption,” Taggart said. “We had to bring in the local authorities, but that’s protocol for an operation like this. We didn’t want some cop stumbling onto the scene and getting himself killed.”
“You brought Howler into this?” Linc asked, his voice rising along with his temper.
“Your names weren’t mentioned, nothing about Drake Trucking.We’ve got very little authority here, Linc. My boss was adamant we keep Howler in the loop about our presence, as well as the Harrison County sheriff, since that’s where the pickup was supposed to be made. Any reason they shouldn’t have been informed?”
