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“Amen,” Nina and Creed echoed.

“What if there is a link between my Uncle Mark and the drug kingpin in your trial?” Nina asked after a few moments. “Does that mean my mother’s cold case isn’t a part of this?”

“I don’t know,” Jackson answered honestly. “If your mother was killed by the drug traffickers your uncle worked with, then yeah. If she was murdered by someone else, then I’m not sure how they can be connected.”

“I think the best way to answer that is to find that link. If there is one,” Creed said thoughtfully. “It just seems odd that these guys are shooting up SUVs and motel rooms so indiscriminately. As if they’re determined to eliminate everyone involved. Seems if only you were the target, there wouldn’t be so much overkill.”

“Okay.” Nina seemed satisfied with that. “As soon as we’re finished here, I’ll go back to searching for my uncle’s arrest report. I hope it helps.”

“Can’t hurt.” Jackson dug into his ribs with a renewed sense of purpose. Creed was right about the blatant shooting attempts against them. Especially considering the upcoming trial.

If not for his being in Dallas for the court case, he wouldn’t have been close enough to help Nina escape her uncle’s cabin. It made sense the two incidents were connected.

Nina finished her meal first and went back to working the computer. By the time he and Creed were done, she had the police report up on the screen.

“It doesn’t say much,” she said with a frown. Her fingers danced along the keyboard. “I don’t see any accomplices listed. I sent you each a copy. You may need to follow up with the Dallas PD to learn more.”

“Sounds good.” Jackson wiped his sticky fingers on the wet wipe provided, then reached for his wallet. He pulled out enough cash to cover their meals, along with a tip, then slid out of the booth. “Let’s hit the road.”

Nina closed the laptop and scooted out of the booth. Creed stood and followed behind them as they left the restaurant. Jackson felt good that they were making progress. Slowly, maybe, but still moving forward.

“Let’s swing by the rental house,” Jackson suggested. “If the cleaning crew is still there, we can wait for them to finish.”

“Okay by me.” Creed glanced over his shoulder at Nina. “What’s the address?”

She rattled it off. “It’s on Lake Belton. I figured that staying outside of Temple was better for us. Just in case this guy somehow knows we’re tracking my mother.”

Jackson nodded thoughtfully. If this was related to their cold case, the gunmen would eventually show up in Temple. He wondered if there was a way to use that knowledge to trap them. Maybe setting up another rental property under their real names would draw them out.

Yet the way they kept coming in with guns blazing meant they’d need to be stationed far enough away from the residence to catch a license plate number or a picture of the gunmen.

Something to think about.

“We need to stock up on some food. At the very least breakfast items and coffee.”

“Okay.” Jackson nodded toward the store up ahead on their right. “I’ll grab the basics. Frozen pizza for dinner, breakfast food and coffee.”

Once they had some groceries, Creed continued toward the rental property. “Tell me what’s in the police report,” Creed said. “I can’t read and drive.”

He opened the document on his phone and quickly scanned it. “The timing is interesting. Looks like Lange was arrested five days after Anna’s murder.”

“I saw that,” Nina agreed. “But why would a drug dealer attack my mother if my uncle wasn’t arrested until five days later?”

“Not sure.” He continued reading. “Sounds like this was a sting operation. The cops set up surveillance outside a two-story home in Dallas. They raided the place and found drugs and arrested Mark. A cop, along with another guy were killed at the scene.”

“That’s interesting. No ID on the dead guy listed in the report?” Creed asked.

“No. But I’m sure Nina can find another report referencing the same date, time and place of this one.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m on it.” She sounded distracted. No doubt she’d gone back to looking at the yearbook photos.

Fifteen minutes later, Creed pulled up to their rental property. There was a car in the driveway, and two women were carrying mops, buckets and other cleaning supplies from the house to the vehicle.

“Perfect timing,” Jackson said. “Looks like we’ll be able to get in a few minutes early.”

“I found the other police report,” Nina said. “I’ve sent it to both of you. The dead man’s name is Joe Foster and he shot at the officers who returned fire, taking him out.”

“He was young, barely twenty-two,” Jackson mused as he scanned the report.