“That’s right,” the man said. “Good doing business with you.”

Kline didn’t say anything in goodbye, just walked back to his vehicle. The man got into the sedan, backed up, and drove down the ramp and around the corner. Kline waited until he couldn’t hear the sound of the engine anymore before getting into his sedan. He texted someone with a burner phone, and then he started the sedan and drove out of the parking garage.

CHAPTER EIGHT

After Jo signed for her belongings, a different uniformed officer drove Jo from the station to the Amyfinehouse Luxury Downtown Stay. The hotel wasn’t anything fancy, but it was reasonably priced and in the downtown area. She hadn’t been lying to Detective Holton. She had wanted to see Dallas, to just walk around the city and take in the sights. She’d googled places to stay when she’d arrived, and Amyfinehouse—although a little pricier than some hotels—fit the bill.

When the officer parked in front of the hotel, she thanked him and went into the lobby, then watched until his squad car pulled away from the curb and vanished. On the drive, she’d realized she was famished, so she walked a few blocks to Harwood Tavern, a local joint that was busy at that hour, the interior shadowy—a good place to be anonymous. It was midafternoon, but there were plenty of people eating and playing pool and watching sports on any of the numerous TVs throughout the place. She took a booth in a corner and ordered a Harwood burger with bacon jam and house aioli and a Coke. While she waited for her food, she mulled over the morning.

She’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time. It had happened, and there wasn’t a thing she could do about that. She kept most of her emotions at bay, but she was more than a little irritated. The hostage-takers had put a lot of people in danger. What had the robbers wanted? They hadn’t been in the bank long enough to steal from all the safety deposit boxes, and they hadn’t worried about cash in the teller drawers or anywhere else. That puzzled her.

Then her thoughts turned to Rico Ortega. She was curious about him. Why would he go against bank protocol and challenge the robbers? He had to have known that was the wrong move, that his behavior might potentially put them all in harm’s way. Right? Was he just that kind of person, impulsive, someone who didn’t think, just acted, no matter what he’d been told to do?

A waiter brought her burger, and as she took a couple of bites, she pictured Rico on the phone, right before the hostage-takers had come in. He’d frowned, like she’d told Holton, clearly not happy about something. Had he been nervous, too? He could have been expecting the men’s appearance, and that was the reason why he’d been acting the way he had.

Law enforcement would be able to find out who had contacted him, and that might explain his reactions. She didn’t have that luxury on her own.

And what about the robbery investigation? She was now involved, a player in the whole thankfully bloodless game—at least so far. That was bad. The previous fall, she’d discovered a threat at a secret biolab in Colorado, and she feared Dale—a top man from the unnamed government agency whose plans she’d thwarted—would come after her at any sign of her popping her head up. Or worse yet, come after her father and sister. Dack owned a firm that specialized in security consulting and incident response for the wealthy, and he also offered training services. Given his expertise in those areas, he had settled Will and Avery in a small town in Florida, where they were safe. For now.

Jo ate some fries. What about herself? What happened if people from that government agency heard about her name in connection with the robbery at the bank and came after her? Would that lead them to Will and Avery? She couldn’t let that happen. She took another bite of her burger, still thinking about Rico and the entire robbery, wondering what all law enforcement would discover as they investigated.

She’d lost her appetite, so she got up, threw out her trash, and walked back to the hotel. When she reached her room, she checked to make sure no one but the maid had been inside. Once she felt safe, she had a sudden urge to take a shower. She had to rinse off the stench of the bank robbery and the smell of the storage room. She peeled off her clothes, then went into the bathroom and showered, letting the hot water pound her neck and shoulders. Finally, she got out and dressed again in one of a few pairs of jeans she had, along with a clean blouse. Feeling better, she sat on a small chair at a round table and video-called Dack. He answered after a couple of rings.

“Jo, how are you?” he asked, blue eyes sparkling.

He used a text-to-voice app, and as he typed, a tinny computer voice translated the words. The apps had improved, and he almost sounded human, although she still missed the sound of his real voice. She’d met him when they’d served together overseas, and a close friendship had formed. They’d been through a lot, especially on their final mission. When intelligence she’d gathered had turned out to be wrong, a fight had ensued. Dack had been captured by enemy insurgents, and they’d tortured him and cut out his tongue. She and Dack remained friends during his convalescence and after they’d both left the military. It had taken her a long time to forgive herself for what had happened, even though he had never for a moment blamed her.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Dallas,” she said. She hadn’t talked to him in a week or so, and she’d last been in Lubbock.

He raised his eyebrows. “Just passing through?”

She hesitated. “That was the plan. I thought I’d visit the Sixth Floor Museum to learn more about the JFK assassination, and check out downtown, then find a smaller, quieter town.”

He sensed something. “But?”

She smiled ruefully. “You won’t believe what happened.”

Jo launched into a detailed explanation of the bank robbery, and when she finished, he was staring at her.

“I’m glad you were there, that maybe you could be a calming force for the group.”

“Yeah, but what if the police investigation leads back to me? What did the other employees say about me?”

“Holton researched your background, too.”

“Yes. He doesn’t know a lot about my military experience, but his checking would flag systems and possibly alert others.”

He knew what she’d been thinking. “Someone from that biolab is likely monitoring to see if your name pops up.”

“Right. I may have blown my anonymity.” She thought for a second, then spoke another thing that had been on her mind. “I need to check things myself. I have to know that no one is coming after me.”

Dack ran a hand over his closely cropped brown hair. “You need to be very careful.”

“I know.”

“I’ll start with Rico. I’ll make sure he wasn’t the inside man. If I’m wrong, then I move on.” Some of the emotions she’d been holding in check were bubbling to the surface. “I don’t want anyone to discover where Dad and Avery are.”

“They’re fine. You don’t need to worry about them, I promise.”

“I want to talk to them.”

He shook his head, his angular jaw harder than usual. “Not now. Wait until you know more, and then I’ll set up something.”

She grimaced, but she knew he was right. If someone was monitoring her, they might be able to make the connection between her and Will and Avery, even though Dack took extreme precautions to make sure no one could trace their phone calls.

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll keep in touch.”

“Let me know if you need anything.”

She put a hand to the screen, and he did as well. Then she smiled and ended the call. She sat for a moment, then used her phone to get on the internet. She googled Rico Ortega and found an Instagram account for a Ricardo Ortega. He had posted some photos of himself—definitely the employee from the bank. With a few more minutes of searching, she found an address for him in Lancaster, south of Dallas. She pocketed her phone and took the elevator down to the hotel parking garage, where she had an older-model Ford Escape that Dack had provided her when she’d left Colorado. It was four o’clock when she left the garage.

CHAPTER NINE

Rico Ortega lived in an apartment complex off Pleasant Run Road. The neighborhood had wide roads, and a shopping complex was only a couple of blocks away. Jo parked across the street and watched the apartments for a moment.

Based on the unit number, Rico lived on the top floor of a three-story building with a large grassy area in front. A window next to his front door had open blinds. She didn’t see any movement inside the apartment, nor any unusual activity around the complex. After five minutes, she got out of her car, walked up the stairs to his floor, and knocked on the door. No one answered, even after she tried again, so she walked back to the Escape. She had no idea what he would’ve done all day, but like her, he’d probably spent a long time with the police. He would have to come home at some point, or if he was married or in a relationship, Jo might see his partner as well. She drummed the steering wheel with her fingers. She could wait to talk to Rico or whoever else showed up. One thing she had was time. She had to make sure she would be safe, and most importantly, that her father and sister would be too.

She started the Escape and drove farther down the block, then squeezed between a truck and a van, where she could see Rico’s apartment but keep her car where it wasn’t easy to spot. Several people came and went, cars going in and out of the complex parking lot. A couple walked out of the unit next to Rico’s, and a woman emerged from a first-floor apartment with two small children. They walked across the street to a park and began playing on the swings. The sun sank lower on the horizon, and finally a black Subaru drove into the lot and parked. Rico Ortega got out. Even at this distance, Jo could tell he was tired, his shoulders caved forward, his gait slow. He climbed the steps to the third floor, went down the walkway, and disappeared into his apartment.

Then she noticed a nondescript white sedan pass by. It went to the end of the block, flipped a U-turn, and parked, but the driver didn’t get out. Surveillance? If the police suspected Rico of being a part of the bank robbery, it made sense that they would be watching him. Unfortunately, that meant they might see her, too. There wasn’t anything she could do about that, and if she was confronted, she’d deal with it then.

She waited a moment, then got out and headed toward Rico’s building, keeping her head down. She didn’t want to give him time to settle in. Better to take him by surprise, to get him at his most vulnerable.

That didn’t happen. Right as she neared the building, he emerged from his apartment. He’d changed clothes, swapping his dress shirt and tie for a white polo shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. She whirled around and hurried back to the SUV, ready to follow him.

Rico walked down the steps and across the parking lot, but he didn’t get into the Subaru, instead passing it to cross the street. When he reached the sidewalk, he headed in the opposite direction. Jo waited a moment, then got out of the Escape, casually crossed the street as well, and followed his path.

Rico went to the end of the block and turned the corner. Jo hurried after, cutting through an alley. She ran behind another apartment building, and when she reached the end, she peeked around the corner. At the other end of the block, Rico soon crossed the street. Jo walked along the side of the building until she could look down that block as well. He was continuing to head north. Jo backtracked and jogged down the next alley, reaching a parking area behind some shopping center buildings.

Rico soon appeared. He walked into the parking lot and headed for a standalone building with a wood roof. Smitty’s Bar, apparently. Jo stayed put as he went inside. Soon after, the sedan she’d seen near his apartment drove down the street and into the parking lot. The driver positioned the vehicle away from the bar, but at an angle where he could see the bar entrance. Jo kept to the back of a store building, then went around the side. As she headed toward the bar, she kept cars between her and the sedan. She had to cross an open throughway, and she kept her head down and turned away as she hurried to the bar and stepped inside.

Smitty’s was dark and cool, loud with rock music pumping from hidden speakers. To the left was a long bar, and a bartender was hustling back and forth. The center of the room held several mostly-full tables, and booths lined the opposite wall. She looked around and saw Rico tucked into a booth. A hostess walked up.

“Table for one?”

Jo shook her head and pointed to Rico. “My friend’s there.”