Page 18 of Seal of Honor
“License plate?” Gabe asked.
“Partial. I’m already running it. And the phone call…” Harvard rewound the footage to check the timestamp. “…came in at 0620. With a little finessing, I can get into his records, see who he spoke to.”
“Do it. Also see if?—”
“It was me,” Audrey said and Gabe turned narrowed eyes on her.
“What?”
“It was me,” she repeated. “I called him. I have—was supposed to have an art show this weekend in San Jose and wanted to make sure he remembered. He didn’t.”
Gabe straightened away from the computer. “What else did he say?”
She shrugged. “Typical Bryson stuff. He had to work. He was off to another meeting.”
“Where?”
“He didn’t say. I started lecturing him on how he works too much, how he’s missing out on his sons’ lives, and how his doctor said he needed to take it easy.” She noticed a faint scowl pass over Gabe’s hard features at that, but he hid it in a blink.
“The medical records I have for your brother don’t mention any serious conditions,” Jesse Warrick said, concern in his voice.
“Uh, no, he doesn’t have any,” she answered. “I mean, nothing that he needs medicine for or anything. He just had some chest pains last summer. They ran tests and are keeping an eye on him, but so far, it seems to be an isolated incident. The doctors think it was caused by a panic attack.”
Jesse looked at Gabe. “The records I have don’t mention anything about chest pain.”
Gabe appeared frustrated and said something back, but she didn’t hear him because Quinn asked from across the room, “Did you hear anything else when you were on the phone with Bryson?”
She glanced over at him. Such solemn intensity. He made her uncomfortable, so she returned her gaze to Gabe. “I heard a man’s voice say in Spanish that Bryson needed to relax, that nobody was going to hurt him because he—” She had to stop and clear away the lump forming in her throat. “Because he was worth too much money. After that, the line went dead.”
“So naturally, you jumped on the first flight to Colombia and put yourself at risk.” Gabe held up a hand when her mouth opened to fire back a defense. “Forget it. What else did Bryson say? Can you remember anything else about that conversation?”
Oh, what a condescending, overbearing…
No, she told herself and clenched her teeth to reign in her temper, don’t let him get to you. There would be plenty of time to rip into him later. Now, she had to focus.
For Bryson.
She shut her eyes, replayed the conversation for the hundredth, maybe thousandth, time in the last twenty-four hours. “He didn’t say anything else to me. When the limo arrived, he had a short conversation with the driver. I couldn’t hear all of it, but I think the driver introduced himself as Jacinto.”
Gabe snapped his fingers and turned to Harvard. “Any clear shots of the driver’s face?”
“Not clear, boss. One profile. Pretty grainy, but I might be able to clean it up. If I can get a clear enough picture, I’ll find you a name, birthday, and the name of his last one-night-stand.”
“Do it. How’s the EPC research coming?”
“Getting there. I have some possible EPC hangouts that need checking.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He clapped Harvard on the back before turning to the rest of the group. Watching him take command was like seeing a tank roll over everything in its path, and Audrey stood back in awed silence as he addressed his team.
“We’re going to split up, check out those addresses. Jesse, you said your Spanish is passable, so you and Marcus will be alpha team. Quinn, Jean-Luc, and Ian, bravo team. Each will recon half of the addresses Harvard dug up. Stay in constant radio contact in case one of you needs reinforcements. Harvard will stay here on the computers.”
Quinn frowned. “What about you?”
“I’m going to talk to the real limo driver, the one that reported Bryson missing, Armando Castillo.”
“How do you plan to do that?” Quinn asked. “Your Spanish sucks. You should take Jean-Luc with you.”
“Sí,” Jean-Luc agreed. “You shouldn’t go alone.”
