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.”
The hostess stepped aside as Jo sidled between tables to the booth. She looked down at Rico and smiled.
“Hello,” she said.
He had a Lone Star beer in his hand, and he looked up, puzzled. “Do I know you?” Then recognition filled his eyes. “What’re you doing here?”
Jo slid into the seat across from him without asking permission. His mouth dropped open in protest, and he glanced for any waitstaff to rescue him, but no one was close by.
“I want to talk to you about what happened at the bank,” she said.
“Are you kidding me?” he said, not hiding the anger in the tone. “I want to put the whole incident behind me.”
A waiter stopped by the table and asked if Jo wanted anything. She looked at Rico. He stared at her but kept silent, didn’t make a scene. She wasn’t a big drinker, and she needed to keep her wits about her, so she asked for water. Rico looked relieved. Just water meant she wasn’t staying long. Although in her mind, that depended on how the conversation went.
The waiter backed away, and Jo laced her fingers together and rested them on the table. The din of the bar was loud, but she kept her voice low.
“What happened after those men took you?” she asked.
He gulped some beer and leaned forward. “I don’t have to talk to you.”
