While he made a pot of coffee, she cut up two mandarins, scooped them into a small bowl.
“What happened with Jordan? Did he talk?” she asked before popping a wedge into her mouth.
Refreshing, tart fruit squirted in her mouth.
“Not a damn word, but he did make sure Nikki knew my real name.”
“What’d she say?”
“She assumed I was undercover.”
“Yeah, she said the same thing to me,” Brit replied.
After they devoured the citrus, Rebel started making oatmeal. She pulled out eggs, got busy scrambling those.
His phone rang. He answered, put the call on speaker. “Agent Jones.”
A tech from the crime lab introduced herself. “I’m calling with our initial findings on the evidence from the Krause residence. So far, the paintings we’ve openedwiththe logo had bags of fentanyl tabs hidden behind the frames.”
“No surprise,” Rebel said.
“For comparison, we opened severalwithoutthe insignia, and they’re clean,” the lab tech said. “We did a rough estimate on the total number of tabs.”
“How many?”
“About three hundred thousand.”
Rebel thanked her and hung up.
Brit spooned eggs onto two dishes. “Do you think he’s Candyman?”
“My gut says yes, but we don’t have enough evidence to convict.” A growl shot out of him. “The more I think about it, the angrier I get.” He filled two bowls with oatmeal.
While they ate, Brit’s phone rang with a call from Detective Cardoso.
“Hi, Nikki,” Brit said. “Agent Jones is with me. What’s the word?”
“Honor showed up with an attorney,” Nikki said. “Krause is out on bail. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold him. As soon as you get me the evidence I need, I’ll haul his ass back in here.”
“We’re workin’ on it,” Rebel said.
Brit thanked her and hung up, then retrieved their laptops.
“He’s slick, but we’ll find something,” Brit said.
Rebel logged in. “I attached trackers to their cars.”
Agitation sliced through him. He needed to go over his dad’s cold case, from the beginning. Maybe there was something he missed. He needed to question everyone again. Rebel didn’t believe in coincidences. That logo on the artwork wasn’t there by accident. Krause was letting the buyers know where the drugs were hidden.
“Yes!” Brit exclaimed. “Liliana’s prints match the partials on the lipstick and earring. DNA on the lipstick was re-confirmed by forensics. And the blonde hair found at the scene is also hers.”
“Congratulations,” he said. “Your first case as an Operative.”
“Strange, but I don’t feel relieved.”
“Because it’s Liliana?”
“No, because we’ve got so much work ahead of us to get a conviction.”
