Brock, Kyle, Wolf, and Jake all looked surprised at that.
“Which brings up the possibility that they weren’t cops at all,” Tom said, glancing at Frank. “In the meantime, we’re here to keep an extra eye on the contestants, given everything that’s occurred this week. Backstage, we’ve got extra security, along with officers in plainclothes roaming the crowd.”
Kyle crossed his arms. “What about Jerold Glass?”
“What about him?” Frank asked. He seemed calm, but Sylvie recognized his unease in the way his foot jiggled.
“Is he talking?” Kyle demanded.
“I can’t speak to that at the moment. My focus is on the festival today. But I’ll let you know the minute I know anything.” Frank looked at Tom, then Sylvie. “We don’t like what’s going on, either. Glass was flying completely under our radar and we’ll be continuing our investigations into that.”
“Damn straight we will,” George added. If Sylvie didn’t know better, she would have thought her dad really didn’t have a clue before today that Glass was crooked. Was he acting for Frank and Tom’s benefit, or Watchdog’s? “Now, here’s the security plan for today.” George went over the rest of the day’s plans for the festival. Sylvie wanted to scream the entire time, but Frank kept catching her eye. His knuckle-rapping might have seemed like a nervous tic to anyone else, but it kept her in line. If she so much as breathed wrong, he’d sew doubts about her in their minds, that was a guarantee. She wanted a moment with George alone, but Frank swept her and Tom out of the station while Kyle and the rest remained.
“So, what’s the truth?” Sylvie demanded as soon as they hit the parking lot.
Frank shook his head. “Go up to Watchdog and find it.” He stormed off to his car.
“Tom?”
He shook his head and walked to the police cruiser, leaving Sylvie wondering which man she should follow in her Mustang, because like hell was she wasting time poking around Watchdog.
That question was answered for her as soon as she got behind the wheel. Her phone buzzed with a text.
Meet me across from the bridge on Apple Valley Road. I have your answers.
* * *
“Carla?”Sylvie immediately got her partner on the phone after reading the text.
“What is it, Cookie? You sound excited. And where are you?”
“I had to run up to Lyons and deal with Brian Taylor missing.”
“Shit. They got you in on that, huh?”
“Yeah, and here’s the thing. I’m about to go undercover. You cannot—cannot—tell anyone.”
“Shit, Sylvie. I hate this. What about Alex? He’s gonna wonder.”
Sylvie blew out a breath. “Yeah, I know. Look, don’t call and tell him, but if he does contact you let him know I’m fine or else he’ll be all over this. I can’t have that.”
“George?”
Sylvie rolled her eyes. “What did I just say about not telling anyone? Donottell my father. He’s already in the shit over Brian.”
“Yeah, I really hate this. You keep in touch, Cookie.”
“I will if I can.”
Sylvie drove up 36 past Lyons until she could see the arched wooden bridge to the left over a chasm along Apple Valley Road. Directly across from it along 36 was a dirt parking lot where people often stopped to take photos of the bridge and the majestic mountain landscape surrounding it.
Sylvie pulled in and parked beside Tom’s cruiser.
They got out at the same time and Sylvie started in. “All right, spill.”
“It was the cartel, which I’m sure you’re smart enough to have figured out.”
“Of course.” Sylvie breathed a sigh of relief because she was half expecting more bullshit about Watchdog from Tom. “But why?”
