Kiley arched a dark eyebrow. “Does he party during the week?”
Addy swallowed her bite of beans. “Guess that’s the thing with being an illegal gunrunner. You don’t have to keep regular work hours and can go out every night.”
Kiley set down her fork. “We’re in the wrong line of work.”
“Did we like to party?” Addy asked Mack, wanting to know more about their past.
He shook his head. “We were homebodies.”
Addy had suspected they weren’t big into socializing, as she didn’t do much of it now either. She continued eating and flipping through the photos, pausing at one of the later ones.
“Zamora might not frequent nail salons, but he’s starting to dress better.” She showed Mack a picture of Zamora wearing a pricey Nike tracksuit, and something about the picture tugged at the back of her mind. “Before this, it was worn jeans and muscle shirts.”
Mack took a long drink of his water. “You think Razo is suddenly cutting Zamora in on the profits?”
Addy dug deep in her memory bank for more information on the pair. There was something there. Just beyond her reach. But what?
Kiley picked up her bread. “Can you see anyone as brutal as Razo deciding to pay his flunkies more money?”
“Not really.” Mack sat back. “So maybe Zamora is moonlighting.”
Kiley swallowed her bite. “You think Razo would allow that?”
“No, and if Zamora is up to something, Razo wouldn’t approve of Zamora flashing his new wealth in front of him,” Addy replied, still trying to think of what she might know about him that her brain didn’t want her to call up. “So maybe he saved the money.”
“That doesn’t seem likely either.” Mack tapped his finger on the pictures. “Maybe Razo wanted Zamora to dress better and gave Zamora hand-me-downs.”
Kiley cleaned her fingers on her napkin. “Any other signs of money?”
“Let’s see.” Addy put down her fork and flipped through additional photos. She found one of Zamora wearing a big chunky gold necklace. She laid the photo in front of Mack and Kiley. “You mean like this?”
Mack let out a low whistle. “That had to cost a pretty penny.”
Addy nodded, the necklace sparking even more attention in her brain. “Razo isn’t in this set of pics, so maybe Zamoraismoonlighting and he felt free to wear the gold without Razo around.”
Mack stabbed his green beans with force. “The guy’s a fool if he’s doing anything to make Razo question him.”
“I have to agree.” She held Mack’s gaze. “From what we’re learning about Razo, he would sooner kill Zamora than let him explain.”
Mack hauled all the dishes upstairs and brought down gooey chocolate-chip-and-hazelnut cookies that he’d warmed in the oven. The local office had supplied them with groceries and given them a basket of Oregon goodies that included the cookies. He watched Addy carefully as she took one and chewed as if not even realizing she was eating. Between bites, her expression was tight as she went through the photos. She moved forward but kept going back to the pictures with the necklace, pausing and chewing over it each time until the cookie was gone. She closed her eyes, placed her hands flat on the table, and began to take deep breaths and slowly exhale. She’d said Dr. Galt had told her if a memory was pressing in, to relax and let it flow. Maybe that was what she was doing.
Mack bit into the oozing chocolate and thought about the doctor. Mack believed the guy was capable. After all, one session and she’d remembered some very important details. But time was slipping away, faster than Mack would hope. Another day was almost gone and they hadn’t gotten very far. If they were going to stop Razo from killing a large number of people, they needed more help.
Mack closed his eyes too.If there’s something she’s trying to remember, please let her recall it. Please. We are bordering on desperate here and need yourhelp.
He should’ve asked for help long before this. Why did he wait until he felt out of control? If God was the center of Mack’s life, he would’ve thought to call out before now. But the PTSD thing had put a wedge between them. A wedge Mack needed to eliminate.
I’m sorry. So sorry. Pleaseforgive me. I should trust. All the time. In everything. Help me to do that too.
“This is it!” Addy shouted, bringing Mack’s eyes open. “How could I not remember this?”
“Tell me.” He scooted closer, his heart thumping with adrenaline.
She pushed the photo where Zamora wore the cross toward Mack.
He scanned the picture. “I don’t see it. Is it the cross?”
She shook her head. “And that’s where I was going wrong. I was focusing on the cross, not the person in the background.”
