Page 52 of Protecting Maggie
“Really?” Flash asked, frowning. “From what I’ve heard, he’s a die-hard bachelor. Always has been.”
“Can we go back to what his real fucking name is?!” Kevlar protested.
“He was married for two years. Before his wife disappeared,” Tex said, ignoring Kevlar as he dropped the next bomb on them.
Preacher sucked in a breath.
“What the fuck?” Blink said what they were all thinking.
Tex went on. “Records state they had an argument, and the next morning, Robertson woke up and she wasn’t in their apartment. There was no sign of her. Her car was in the parking lot, her purse, keys, money, it was all still in the apartment. The door was unlocked and there was no sign of any kind of altercation inside. Robertson was considered a suspect but was never charged because there was no evidence of foul play. There was no evidence he was involved in her disappearance at all.
“After that, he moved to the East Coast and went to college,” Tex continued. “I compared the prints the cops had on record when his wife went missing, and from the Navy when he joined, and lo and behold…they matched. Bartholomew Jones became Roman Robertson.”
“Hell, I’d change my name if it was Bartholomew,” Smiley said snarkily under his breath.
“What else?” Safe asked.
“You’re assuming there’s more?” Tex said.
“A man doesn’t go from a grieving husband—assuming he was even worried about his wife’s disappearance—to where he is now without a whole lot between the two,” Safe said confidently.
“You’re right. I tracked his naval career, and everywhere he was stationed, there were drug charges against men working under him. Every time, he came out smelling like a rose. I tried to look for money trails, to see if he’d paid people off, but too much time has passed to know for sure.Not to mention, he’s probably smart enough to use cash, not write a fucking check or electronically transfer money to someone for any evil shit he wants done.”
“Anything on Maggie’s situation?” Preacher asked.
“Nothing concrete, but one of the officers who pulled her over did a stint in the Navy. And guess who his commanding officer was…”
“Fuck,” Blink growled.
Preacher normally would’ve grinned at the stoic SEAL using his favorite curse word over and over, but there was nothing remotely funny about this situation.
“I’m guessing he’s been using subordinates as mules. To move his drugs from one place to another while he rakes in the profits. He fucked up with Maggie though. He got personally involved, used one of his girlfriends as a courier, and she got caught. He probably thinks she’s the only person who can bring him down. Military subordinates have as much to lose as he would, so they’ll keep their mouths shut. But Maggie has no reason to stay silent. Hell, she tried to tell everyone the drugs weren’t hers. Robertson probably assumes she’s going to keep trying to get someone to believe her…and eventually she’ll succeed. He doesn’t want that to happen under any circumstances.”
“What next?” Preacher asked. Guilt filled him. Maggie had tried to gethimto believe her—and he’d failed her. And he was at a loss as to what he, or anyone, could do to help Maggie, now that it seemed certain Robertson was indeed her ex. He couldn’t be by her side every minute of every day, and he had a sick feeling that anyonewho tried to help her would find themselves in the crosshairs of the very powerful rear admiral. And there was no way Preacher wanted to put Wolf or any of his team, along with their wives and families, on Robertson’s radar.
Any more than they might be already.
Before Tex could respond, Kevlar’s phone rang. Then Safe’s, Smiley’s, and the rest of the teams’ cells. Looking down, Preacher could see an incoming call on his own screen, as well.
“Fuck!”
That time it was Kevlar who swore.
“What’s happening?” Tex barked through the speaker.
Kevlar had answered his phone, and they all heard him as he responded in clipped tones to whoever was on the other end of the line. “Yes, Sir. I understand. Right now? Do we have time to go home and talk to our families? Right. Thirty minutes. They’re here, I’ll let them know. Aye-aye, Sir. Out.
“We’re being deployed,” he announced as soon as he hung up, not making anyone ask what the hell was going on. “Right now.”
“It’s him,” Preacher said, feeling sick.
“We don’t know that,” Kevlar argued, but the uneasiness was clear in his tone.
“The hell we don’t,” Preacher retorted, raising his voice.
“I’m on this,” Tex said. “If this is a bullshit deployment, I’ll get it rescinded. And if I can’t do that before you head out, I’ll get you home as soon as I can.”
“I need someone to have Maggie’s back,” Preacher told the older man.
